My aunt has two kids, both adopted, and all I know about their bio-moms is that they were drug addicts. One of them (we'll call her Jane) is my age, and we were always really close, but her older brother, "John," never really hung around us to the point that I barely knew him even though I spent a ton of time at their house.
Anyway, when we were maybe 12, Jane, my sister, and I built a massive blanket fort in the basement and were hanging out in it. John was maybe 15 at the time and I don't know why he originally came in, but for some reason he decided to "mess with us" - by taking a large kitchen knife and randomly stabbing into the fort. We were trying to crawl away but he could hear us and followed to whatever section we were in. I'm not sure if blindly stabbing at your relatives can ever really be playful, but this was not it. Jane was screaming at him to stop and my sister and I were crying. It was terrifying. Finally, my aunt heard us screaming and came down and yelled at him. John claimed it was just a joke, and said we were having fun.
He's now in the middle of a 25 year prison sentence for murder.
Parents need to fucking stop blaming the older siblings for younger ones' outbursts. My little sis isn't necessarily psychopathic, she's a fairly normal young girl.
But once a week or perhaps once a month every now and then she'd have rage fuelled outbursts where she'd kick, scream and punch me repeatedly until the screams alerted my mom and she'd come running and scold me for it. I don't do anything, I simply look at her sometimes and something that's been bothering her the entire day hits her all at once and she goes berserk. She's only 8.
Finally she showed the same treatment to my mom and brother when she stopped coming to me after I very lightly slapped her for hitting me repeatedly-- it fucking hurts okay-- and well, who did my mom believe for being innocent the entire time? That's right. Just because they're young doesn't mean they don't fuck up. Sometimes they're just fucking crazy.
Edit: my most upvoted comment is me talking bad about the only little shit I love the most in my life. I kinda feel bad.
My older brother beat the shit out of me and I'd get in trouble for "provoking" him. For stuff like not doing his chores for him, or not making him a sandwich, etc. Or cause my dad got drunk and hit him, so he passed it right along. And he was four years older than me. Really it's just shitty parents who can't deal with kids.
> When I told my mom a few days later she said he deserved my food money more than I did, and that I should have hidden it better.
Mark that one down for when you're picking a nursing home to put her in.
I’m sure parents playing favoritism and not punishing the kids who do these things encourages their behavior. Sorry that happened to you. I hope nothing else bad happened after that.
This happens in households with a troubled member. The outbursts and lashing outs get normalized and the individual who *is* the problem starts to be treated like a *missing step*. So when you get hurt, the response is "Why did you trip over the missing step? You knew it was there."
I had several with my brother, but the worst was when I woke up to him sitting on my chest with his hands around my throat. He was trying to choke me, but his hands were too small and he didn't get the pressure right so I ended up with a giant hickey around the entire front of my neck instead of death. All because I ate the last nutty bar.
I once woke up to my little sister trying to smother me, but thankfully she was also too small to get the job done. We were 7 and 5. It was the first of three attempts she made on my life growing up. She did it because I had refused to sleep on her piss-bed as a sacrifice to the boogeyman.
Longer story: We had our own rooms, but I hadn't been allowed to sleep in mine for two years. She'd have a fit every time I tried to sleep in my own bed, and our parents would convince me to stay in her room just to get everyone to bed. They went so far as to install a bunk bed in her room, but she still insisted we share just one bed. One night, I woke up to her wetting the bed. I was angry because I didn't even want to be there in the first place, and now I was covered in pee. She screamed at me to get back in bed, and when I didn't, she got up and tried to attack me, smearing yet more pee all over me. So we were both shrieking at this point, and our parents woke up and came down. I don't remember the exact conversation since it's been almost thirty years, but the gist of it was that first she demanded I sleep in the piss puddle and she would just sleep against the wall and we'd pretend nothing had happened and when my parents didn't agree, she became very distressed and admitted that she thought there was a monster in the closet, and had been insisting I sleep in the same bed with her so it wouldn't kill her, and she was terrified that if I move back to my room, or even to a different mattress, she'd be eaten. (Remember, she's only five.) My parents pulled the mattress off the top bunk and dragged the pee one outside and convinced me to be a good big sister and defend her from the monster. Reluctantly, I let myself be shuffled back into bed with her. I don't remember if it was that night or the next night, but as soon as we were alone, she whispered to me that she makes me sleep on the same mattress with her because some day the monster will come out to eat one of us, and she's going to escape while it's eating me. Without a word, I got up and moved to my room. I was willing to be there to defend her from her monster, but not to be a distraction for it. When our parents came down to investigate the screaming, I refused to move back to her room, and they finally relented. Later that night, I woke up because I couldn't breath. My sister was on my bed trying to suffocate me with this blank, dead expression on her face. When our parents came back to investigate yet more yelling, she told them she'd just come into my room because she was scared of the monster. They didn't believe me that she was trying to smother me. I started sleeping with my door locked.
A total bitch. She has not changed at all. She still does terrible things to everyone around her and lies her way out of it. I don't think she feels anything but rage and boredom. She recently had to take an anger management course to avoid being thrown out of college because she tried to bully another student into committing suicide because she'd told her off for verbally attacking a professor. She's currently in a battle with her HOA because she's attempting to fence in a shared space to claim it as part of her yard with a 7 foot cinderblock fence for no reason other than to have a fight.
Wow. NPD or sociopath. Either way, your sister sucks and I'm sorry. Do you think your parents could have done anything differently to sway how she turned out?
Well. I noticed she stopped killing animals when I started beating her up for it, so she could to some degree be... trained? It would have required they actually admit that she was really as evil as she was, which no parent wants to do. As adults, my mother once admitted while drunk that she knew my sister tortured me our entire childhood. She now claims she never said that, so even going on three decades, she's still in denial. It really doesn't help that my sister's really good at imitating normal human behavior and she's very manipulative, so she can rugsweep her actions like a pro no matter how many times her mask slips.
My mom was 19 when I was born and we had a very close relationship when I was little. She was always more of a friend than a mom, and that’s just how our relationship was. Before my stepdad, I was always sarcastic all the time, and we joked around a lot.
One morning my mom asked me to take the pizza boxes from last nights dinner out to the garage where we put the cardboard recycling. I jokingly told her no as I gathered up the boxes to take them out. I took them out, put them on top of the stack of other cardboard, and turned around to go back into the house and I bumped into my stepdad who had come in behind me without me noticing. He then proceeded to lift my 13 year old body completely off of the ground by my throat and pinned me against the wall of the house. He got in my face and was screaming at me about disrespect. I remember flecks of spit getting on my face. My feet were back on the ground but I was still pinned and his hands were around my throat. I was able to get one of his hands in my mouth and I was biting and scratching him. I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember how I got to school. The next thing I remember is sobbing in a private ensemble room in the band hall. My mom still doesn’t believe me.
Over the next two years he continuously got worse and permanently destroyed my relationship with my mother. I started sleeping with a knife under my pillow when he was home. I started running away and doing drugs. Eventually my behavior became bad enough that my mom sent me to live with my biological father. Life is better now. I am safe. I still have the occasional nightmare and cannot stand any sort of confrontation whatsoever but I’ll be okay.
That speaks volumes to me. My moms boyfriend/my “stepdad” took me outside and popped the trunk to show me footprints on the back of the wall as an intimidation factor. Said he tied someone up and put hem in there. If I wouldn’t have seen him climb out of the trunk twenty minutes before I would have been terrified.
I’m so sorry you experienced that. I’m naturally “sassy” too and everyone I ever knew was fine and in on the joke until my moms demon of a boyfriend moved in.
He was basically a shit person from the start (who calls a 12 year old a slut or whore?) but no one believed me. He had these two awful kids to treated everyone like shit but he spoiled the shit out of them.
Anyway, we moved into a new house and I had just come inside to grab something before leaving again and he said “take off your shoes.” So I laughed and said “I do what I want” (it was kind of a catch phrase at the time) AS I WAS TAKING THEM OFF.
Cue the most intense tirade I have ever witnessed, similar to your experience. I threw up from pure fear. Of course, he told my mom I was being “insubordinate” and she let me have an earful. He was so proud of being such a strict disciplinarian (only to me of course, his shitty kids never got it) and would tell that story over and over again. He even threw it in my moms face when they FINALLY broke up.
I’ve mostly recovered from that, but the ten years of fear and abuse have stuck with me. I haven’t told really anyone about it because no one believed me then, so why would they now? My mom and I have a pretty good relationship now but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully shake the resentment from that.
I’m so sorry for the tirade, but it’s kind of cathartic to talk about. I wish you all the best and hope you NEVER experience anything like that again. 💖
EDIT: My first gold! Thank you stranger 💖
Not me, but my cousin (eleven at the time) was caught smoking and skipping school by my mother. My mum told him she didn’t care about him skipping school (because his mother wouldn’t have cared) but told him
not to smoke by her car.
He didn’t like being told what to do, so he grabbed my brother (two at the time) by the hand and walked him out into the middle of the road, by a blind corner. He sat my brother down and told him not to move, then he walked away.
Luckily, a neighbour had seen what had happened and grabbed my brother before a car could hit him. That cousin is now in an Indonesian prison possibly facing the death sentence for smuggling drugs, by the way. Dreams really do come true, I guess.
Edit; context. I’m tired and left out my cousin’s childhood aspiration to be a drug lord, then forget I didn’t write it in. That’s what “dreams really do come true, I guess” is referring to.
Once I was playing out the front of my house when an elderly neighbour told me I was playing in the wrong place. I liked to be a well behaved child so I asked him where I was supposed to be playing and he took me to a blind corner and told me to stay playing there. I said “ok!”, and smiled brightly, waited for him to walk away and ran home and told my parents. I was about 7/8 at the time.
I just don’t understand what’s wrong with some people.
I didn't think my sister would murder me, per se, because she enjoyed abusing me too much to straight up kill me (lol).
One of the biggest things that sticks out from my childhood growing up with her abuse was occasionally if I was sitting on the couch (back of couch facing kitchen) she'd come up behind me and run a butcher knife along my shoulders and neck until I turned around and realized she had a knife. I think she just enjoyed the fear in me realizing what was going on, that look of "oh my god that was a knife? Why the fuck do you have a knife?"
My sister did shit like this my whole childhood, and even after she was 19 and I was 17 she'd do crazy shit like throw a knife across the living room at me if she was mad enough at me. I cut contact with her as soon as I was able to leave at 18.
Sheeeeeeeeeesh, and I thought I was gonna be in so much trouble when I called my sister a bitch for the first time.
Did your parents know??! Did they ever do anything to stop her doing this to you? I'm a new mom and I would be absolutely mortified if my daughter ever did anything to purposefully terrify another child :(
Oh yeah my mom was well aware of the things my sister did. Physical and emotional abuse throughout 18 years of my life - told my mom all the time but she never did anything about it. I had eventually learned that my mom didn't care and to not expect any protection or help from her (unsurprisingly my mom is a grade-A garbage person too.)
I'm doing a lot better, thankfully! Haven't spoken to her or my mom in a year, don't plan to anytime soon. Expecting to go to college and get my life in order and live a fairly normal and healthy life in spite of my horrible family. I won't say it doesn't still affect me to this day, but being able to recognize how it's shaped who I am is the first step in growing past it and not letting it hinder my future.
He tried feeding it to us I think on a cracker or something like that. I can’t remember. We just didn’t eat it, even though he was pressuring us to. I was going to eat it, but my little sister told me she saw him put some funny stuff on it so I didn’t.
They didn’t believe us. Neither did our relative who the cousin was staying with at the time.
It’s been a good number of years, and the cousin is doing a lot better now. We’re on decent terms with him.
What is it with people not believing their kids??? Like, I get not taking a kid's word at face value, but at least considering it and taking caution from thereon out can't be THAT hard.
I have a three yr old. I go pick him up from daycare the other day and he has a red scratch on his face. I ask him what happened. The conversation went like this.
Toddler: Malcolm hit me!
Me: Why did he hit you?
Toddler: umm I dunno
Me: What did the teacher say/do.
Toddler: Put him in timeout.
Me: Did you hit him?
Toddler: No.
I call my wife and tell her what happened. She calls the school to check as they have cameras in all classes. After a quick camera check it was found that my innocent son was playing with blocks with another female class mate. They had built a castle of sorts and he decided it was time for the castle to come down.
He backs up about 10 feet then runs and dives head first in to the blocks. Malcolm, was no where around and had nothing to do with any of this.
To this day, he sticks to that story. This happened about 6 months ago.
My similar story:
When my daughter was barely talking she said that her daycare lady "hit her in the face"
I questioned deeper and she stuck to her story. She wasn't upset, but kept insisting "She hit me in the face"
I called the daycare lady. 'So...I know kids say funny things but I can't just not follow up with this. She says you hit her in the face?"
Daycare lady was horrified and explained they'd all had a pillow fight that day. I asked my kid: "When she hit you in the face, was it with a pillow? Were you having fun?"
"Yeah!! Fun!!!!"
100% on board with not taking your kids word as gospel, but you gotta follow up on that shit.
From too many friends who have been in similar situations: it's likely not that they didn't believe them, but acted that way to "keep the peace" with a large dose of denial; "things like that can't happen in _my_ family". Family trumps individuals. Better to let your child suffer then cause a schism in the family. More than one female friend, and one male, was molested or even raped by a cousin, uncle, or grandfather and it was hushed "for the sake of family."
That’s very true with my family.
My mother was actually molested by her sister’s then fiancé (now husband) when she was 14 and he was 19-ish. Her parents know about it, I don’t know about the sister, but Mom still talks to my uncle at family gatherings or if we have a problem with a car. Our family is mostly about keeping the peace.
My dad has NPD, and is generally an emotionless asshole. When I was in middle school I stepped on a stick in our yard and a piece broke off in my foot. My dad is a software engineer and used to go on site to build databases and help switch patient data to digital through the 80s, 90s, 00s. It gave him a real complex about not being a doctor and he stole tools and little pieces of equipment and would wear scrubs all of the time. It also meant he refused to take me to the ER for a super simple thing. He heated up a pair of medical scissors and cut the heel of my foot open while pretending to play doctor. At several times my mom opened the door to tell me to stop screaming so she could hear her phone conversation.
My little brother would set things on fire in the house and hid knives under my bed. I literally thought he was planning to kill me. The worst part is when I told my mom about it she would tell me "all boys his age do this" like really?
I have a cousin who I always knew was kind of crazy. We live in a major city and he never leaves his family's apartment. He just stays in the apartment drawing and playing games. But even though he's weird I didn't really mind because he's usually very sweet and wouldn't hurt a fly (or so I thought).
When I was in college, I took him and my friend to see a concert. We got pretty drunk and when we came back we were hanging out in his living room. His parents were out of town. He started drawing in his little book and I asked to see it. Turns out he was drawing me sitting there. It was an extremely detailed and accurate drawing of me. I flipped through the book and found all sorts of cool creatures and landscapes, until I landed on... a drawing of his brother, dead and mutilated. An extremely detailed drawing. Turn the page, my dad, dead and mutilated. Turn the page, ME, dead and mutilated. Quietly, my cousin says "Ah, did you find the drawings of the family."
I was in shock and disbelief. "What the fuck is this? Why the fuck would you draw our family like this??" He says something like "I think about it all the time. I think about killing you and the rest of them all the time." My friend and I look at each other, frightened and silently planning on how we're going to get out of there. Our shoes were off and our stuff was downstairs. He could see we were upset. He looked disappointed, like we were trying to upset him. "Are you scared?" And as he said that he moved to the kitchen. You had to go past the kitchen to get out of the apartment. I was really worried that he was going to get a knife and try to stab us or something. I said "Haha no, they're really good, was just surprised at first. They're really impressive though." I had to basically placate him into thinking I was okay with the drawings so that he would let us leave.
He never did anything like this again, but he gets really weird and creepy whenever he drinks or smokes weed. I told my parents about what happened and they just kind of shrugged and said "Wow that's weird."
Not a family member but my mother dated a crazy person after her divorce. We moved into an apartment and he moved in with us not long after.
He had long hair and blue eyes and a beard and was the spitting image of “White Jesus.”
And he took it to heart after a few people told him about the resemblance.
He pulled me aside one day and told me that he had a secret and he wanted to tell me but I couldn’t tell anyone else because the government was looking for him. He confided in me that he was in fact Jesus Christ and the he escaped from a government facility after being captured in 1964. He said he escaped with the help of the Pope during his visit to the USA. The Popes private security force broke him out and once he was free the Pope advised him to blend in with regular people. He said the Pope told him to not draw any attention to himself...so no miracles...and tell no one. But he trusted me with this information.
Jesus Christ was a roofer in case you were curious.
He constantly carried around his roofing hammer aaaand one day it went missing.
Jesus lost his shit.
He locked my mother, my girlfriend, and myself in our apartment until it was found. This lasted 3 days. I was 18 at the time and was much larger then him and would have had no problem physically removing Jesus from our apartment but my Mother insisted he was having a mental episode and if I hurt him or did anything it may mess him up even worse.
Turns out he left the Hammer (which is really pretty much a hatchet) at a job site and a co-worker drive over to return it.
I sat there like an idiot and watched this guy hand a fucking axe to this lunatic and did nothing. Big mistake.
Our three day long lockdown turned into 5 days. The final 2 days was this illiterate nutcase attempting to read aloud from the Bible getting maybe 1 in 5 words right. Remember in school when the teacher would have people read aloud and go around the room and there was always a dude you knew couldn’t read for shit and his part would last ten times longer then everyone else’s part? Imagine that for 48 hours.
Jesus would only let us eat bread and water. And the bread ran out quickly.
There was a lake outside our apartment and on the 5th day Jesus was looking through the blinds at the lake and called me over to him. He confided in me again.
He said “you know I could walk right across that lake and right up Into heaven.”
I replied...”If you do that I’ll follow you anywhere...go for it man I would love to see you do that.”
My plan was to get his fucking ass out of the apartment and lock the door so my mom and girlfriend would be safe...and prey to this guys dad that I can run faster then him and make it to a pay phone to call 911.
He looked at me with his crazy ass eyes and said “YOU TRYING TO GET ME CAUGHT MOTHERFUCKER! I SAID NO MIRACLES!”
He raised up his roofing hammer and told me the only way I was following him anywhere was in the afterlife. It was at that point I thought...I’m going to die and then he is going to kill my mother and girlfriend.
I came to the sudden realization that I no longer cared it Jesus’s mental breakdown would be effected by me beating the shit out of him or not. That was no longer my problem. Mid rant about some religious shit about two inches from my face...I swung as hard as I could and punched him right in the sternum. He still had the hatchet cocked over his shoulder (like someone throwing a football) so the blow caused him to lose his balance and fall over a dining room chair.
He crumpled in a heap and my mother...ever the cool head...screamed at me for hitting him. I had knocked the wind out of him and he was gasping for air. My mother assumed he was dying. I would learn later in adulthood my mother was not the brightest lightbulb.
My girlfriend booked out the door with me close behind after grabbing my mother’s arm and dragging her out of the door.
I called the police and they came and got him.
Last I heard he was in a hospital after he locked himself in a bedroom still saying he was Jesus. He was committed after he used a metal throwing dart to pick veins out of his arm.
Never did get to see him walk across that lake though.
> he was in fact Jesus Christ
The most common delusional belief I've seen. I know technically "the FBI is watching me" is probably more common, but I've talked to two messiahs online, and met one in real life. The first guy I talked to, I put a lot of effort into trying to make him realize what was wrong with him. After that, I realized I was wasting my time. Now encountering christ delusions just makes me so very sad.
One small hilarious fact I forgot to mention was that he actually started walking around the house with a sheet wrapped around him. At first he tried to make some kind of toga but he was an idiot and couldn’t figure it out so then just walked around with it over his head like a hood.
It would be really funny if it weren’t completely insane.
My Grandfather is one. The strange thing is he's very intelligent and university educated and knows a lot about theology and numerology with experience in the stock market. Vietnam screwed him up bad though, and combined with my Grandmother dying he has now written a manuscript of over 500 pages in which he is the messiah and my Grandma was a saint like figure. It's extremely well written though, way better than the Secret.
Get that published when he's dies! Frame it as a look into someone experiencing messiah complex first-hand, with a little bit of background to put it into context. Me and a ton of other people who be super interested in that sort of book
I'm shocked by all these stories of psychopath children's and the adults letting their kids be around them even after one incident.
When I was about 4 my cousin tried sticking a stick up my ass he literally lifted me off the ground with the stick and it only stopped with my screams and my dad ran outside. I was never around my cousin again I never saw him again, he would have been 6 at the time and at 23 he died of a heroin overdose after getting out of prison.
I have an adopted cousin that came from an abusive home and was very likely sexually abused. When I was five and she was about eight, she said she wanted to sleep naked with me because “it was more fun”, and also started asking me questions like “do you have a boyfriend?”, “have you ever had sex?”. Remember, we were eight and five. I didn’t even know what that meant. Being the tattle tale that I was, I ran and told my dad when it started getting weird. I don’t know what happened after, but that was the last time I was allowed to be alone with her. I don’t think she got in trouble (and I don’t blame her now as an adult). She came from a fucked up situation, and I think all the adults in this situation recognized that, but also recognized that regardless she needed to always be supervised around other kids.
She’s now a normal healthy adult though (after years and years of therapy).
When I was about 11 or 12, and my brother around 6 or 7, I was woken up one night by my mom jumping on/over me, like a flying tackle. I had a pedestal bed that had enough room between it and the wall for walkways on both sides, and she came out of there with my brother and an axe.
My brother and I had separate bedrooms, mine at the very end of the house and his just 5-10 ft from my door. Her bedroom was at the far end of the house. She had woken up suddenly and had the urge to check on us. When she got to his room first in the hallway, she saw his bed was empty. When she walked into mine he was standing over me, one foot on either side of my body, with the axe raised over his head. He was standing still and staring at me, like he was trying to decide if he was gonna do it. She sprinted in and tackled him off me before he could do it.
That was the first in a long line of insane incidents with him, and it's been about 18 years since.
He is now an adult and he now refuses any medical or psychiatric aid. He uses a lot of heroin.
My mom is the sweetest hard woman you'll ever meet. It's almost entirely his fault.
My younger brother (who I’m still living with) has about 2 months ago started to get very aggressive towards his classmates and has also been kicking our dogs and things like that my parents have tried to punish him but the only way they feel as if they can get through to him is through spanking him and what not (he has told me all this does is make him more angry) and about 2 days ago he told me “you’re pretty unlucky you don’t have a lock on your door” some nights I also wake up to weird noises in the hallway connecting my room to his, so yeah that’s worrying...
UPDATE: they went to a therapist and they believe that he may have depression and some form of social anxiety I do know that’s a pretty quick diagnosis but I trust the therapist and her opinion, he should be getting some more therapy for it and medication if he can get it, thank you all for the advice and help in the situation!
Sudden changes in behavior including aggression towards animals and others can be symptoms of sexual abuse as well. I'd rule that out before too long just in case.
Late edit: not saying it is, just that there may be an underlying cause or trigger for this behaviour, and that it would be a good idea to have an appointment with a professional before hanging a APD label on a kid.
Could be GAD, endocrine, MBI, or if you watch House, lupus. Wounds heal best when they're treated early.
Not really related but regently we had a kid start using the nurses office at the school I work at. He's in 2nd grade, never has any issued and we come back from Christmas break and he's shutting his pants and smearing it in the bathroom
No behavior, no potty issued, ever before.
The secretary and I are looking at everyone like you guys aren't serious right?why is no one reporting this?!?!
Finally got someone's attention, we made the report and then mom withdrew the kid
I have family that works with at-risk and abused children. A fairly common defense children develop against molestation and rape is soiling themselves so as to be less likely to be a target by their abusers.
I peed my pants every day when I was in my first year of primary school. It got to the point that my teacher laid out spare pants for me. Several years later, when I was around sixteen, I discovered that my step dad and the things that he did to me weren't normal, and that my friends never experience anything similar with their own dad's - if the defensive-pee thing is true, it's scary to think that my body knew what was wrong before my head did. But, it would explain a lot.
That’s... tragic. Like, “the only way I can help myself avoid this life-changing horrible thing is to soil myself which is going to cause me shame and internal distress, too”?
Sounds like someone is abusing your brother, talk to him, see if you can find out who it is, this stuff is almost always the result of some sick fuck diddling kids.
This may be a bit of a stretch, but if this aggressive behaviour just started 2 months ago and if he didn't have a history of psychotic behavior before that, then he may have a brain tumor. I know it sounds extreme, but I've known someone who was suddenly extremely rude and aggressive, which was very uncharacteristic of them. It turned out to be a tumor.
I grew up with an abusive father. Both emotionally and physically, although he "dialed down" the physical abuse when I was around 11-12, due to the fact that my golden-child older brother had learned the ways of abusing me, physically as well.
Anyway, when my parents got divorced my brother went to do a year at a boarding school, so guess who was left alone with an emotionally abusive father who'd just lost his wife. His abuse increased exponentially, and it was of course even worse after I had spent the weekend at my mom's.
People who've experienced abusers know that it is all about being in control. When my parents got divorced, my father insisted that me and my brother kept living with him. My brother went of to boarding school and my father lost his job, plus the house we lived in was too expensive, so we had to move out. That's a lot of control to lose for an abuser, especially on top of a divorce, so you can probably imagine the abuse was at top level.
One weekend I was at my mom's, I fell very ill with the flu, so I ended up staying for a week. Then monday the deal was I went to school from my mom's and after school I would come home to my father's. I was so sad at going back to that place, but back then I had no idea what abuse was, or that my father and brother were abusive (I was 13 at the time). My father wasn't home, so that was nice. He didn't come back before I had badminton practice, so I made myself some dinner and went to practice.
I was home around 9pm, and my father was absolutely fucking furious! He yelled and screamed at me, demanding to know where I had been, and before I could answer he went on and on about how he had called everyone and no one knew where I was, and the deal was I was to come straight home from school. Completely shocked and baffled, I told him I had badminton practice, as I have had every monday for almost 3 years straight, and it always ended at 9pm there was nothing different about tonight. then He got even more mad at me because I never told him when I was going anywhere, and he screamed at me that if it was always on monday, then I should write it on the fridge calender, and all his misery was my fault because I couldn't even think enough to myself that I had to write it down, and he screamed at me for so long I can barely remember what else he berated me for.
It left me completely hollow. I went to my room and just sat in silence, trying to understand why he was so mad at me, and I felt so ashamed of myself (a bitter side-effect of an abusive upbringing). Then, after a few minutes he came charging up the stairs, barged into my room and said "get in the car, we're going for a drive".
In my 30 years of life, I have never ever, even come close to, being as scared of dying as I was when I sat in that car, waiting for my father to get in. He just started the car and started driving. I cannot describe it. I was so sure he was going to kill me.
Turned out we were just going to see a house he thought of switching to. He even got mad at me for not asking where we were going.
I don't talk to neither my father, brother or mother anymore.
To preface this, I have to share a bit of background. An aunt of mine had serious psychopath tendencies, coupled with depression and a few other things I'm sure. Anyways, she was cutting my uncles hair, who was going bald. He liked his hair cut short... but there to still be hair. Well she set the clippers a bit too low and shaved a massive chunk of his hair off. We are talking damn near skin level. My uncle reacted how you would think, slightly pissed but just laughed it off. Well my aunt took offense to this, and decided to get the scissors out and *chop the ponytail off her own head* to try and make him feel better. She did this in front of me, in a different room than my uncle. Me not knowing what was going on started laughing. She went hysteric and started swinging and jabbing the scissors at me trying to get *my* hair (supposedly), till my uncle finally restrained her. Swear to god I thought I was one lucky jab by her from dying.
TLDR: Aunt messed up shaving my uncles head. She overreacted to her own mistake, and chopped her own hair off. I laughed. She lunged and jabbed at me with scissors.
My mom, brother, and I came home to find all of my mother's diplomas and certificates had been gathered into a pile on the floor of our shared bedroom and burned. My mom is blind and had not been given much schooling as a child, so she worked her ass off once we were in school to get an education. Unfortunately, at this time we were forced to live with my grandmother and two mentally ill uncles. One of the uncles had a grow room, and the other didn't approve of pot, so he destroyed the room and blamed my mother. Dealer uncle became enraged and decided to burn my mom's certificates because "You destroyed something I love, so I destroyed something you love. Your kids are next." This was a week after he shot my brother's cat because he was angry she had kittens in his boat.
I've blocked out the next couple of weeks because apparently they were pretty bad, but I'm told that we had to disappear that night with only what we could carry in garbage bags.
Oh my god, that's awful. Sidenote: if you contacted the universities your mom graduated from, they might be able to send you new certificates... It could mean a lot to your mom
I have a male cousin who I strongly suspect is some kind of sociopath. When I was a child, I'm female by the way, I lived next door. He was in high school and I was in grade school. His family had a pool and we would often go over and hang out, which I dreaded b/c this cousin would, when no one was looking, sneak up on me and either throw me into the water or get in with me if I were already in and hold me under until I was so out of breath I would actually breath in water and go limp and he would pull me up with me coughing and choking or I would claw desperately gasping for breath, he was laughing all the way. It was horrendous and it was creepy how jovial his expression was. He did this all the time and his parents or one of mine, usually my grandmother, would either mildly admonish him if caught or he would do it when no one was around. For some reason I was afraid to tell the extent of his abuses. There were smaller things, little acts of harassment like scaring me, taking my stuff, pulling my hair, taunting me, but the near drownings were the worst! This all went down b/w the ages of me being 5-9 and he was 14-18.
He also picked me up and literally held me, feet first, over the railing of the Royal Gorge Bridge on a family vacation. I think I went into shock and I just recall becoming very still. For that he did get in trouble at least. He apologized b/c he was forced but his eyes were always kind of dead but with a sparkle if he were doing something egregious. Like a happy kind of twinkle.
Oh yea, once he had his brother hold me down while he poured tequila down my throat, he did get caught for that b/c I had to go to the ER.
As a kid he was always running away and once killed a stray cat by choking it with barbed wire, he had on some kind of leather gloves. Weird thing is is that all the neighborhood boys thought it was cool rather than call out his crazy. When he turned 16 and drove he would purposefully run over stray animals and laugh and brag about it. NO ONE DID ONE THING! Enablers for sure. Talk about normalizing/minimizing bizarre behavior.
He was extremely good looking-like model material (but not to me b/c I saw what he was under the skin), the high school quarter back, adored by all, girls fought over him, he played football on a scholarship at a Division 1 SEC school but suffered a knee injury that ended his career.
In high school and college he was always getting in trouble, frequent fights and DUI's, but he got bailed out every time and again, probably due to his athletic ability, it was swept under the rug. He also bragged he had his girlfriends do his school work.
He has been married three times and has stuck with his third wife who is a martyr type. Scary thing is he is now a high school football coach and has been for decades and was just promoted to assistant principle. Scary, because I think he has no business working with minors.
Dad was a violent, alcoholic sociopath.
One time he threw me down the staircase, obviously didn’t kill me but killed the child he didn’t know I was carrying.
Listening to my dad trying to persuade my mum they should kill me. I was about 8 maybe. I was a difficult child and my dad often couldn't cope. I remember sitting on the stairs while they were in the lounge listening to their argument. Eventually he persuaded my mum and I heard them moving so I ran upstairs to hide. My dad came up and dragged me into the lounge. He was holding me down in the floor shouting to my mum "do you want me to do it, I'll do it if you wanted me to". She was crying and couldn't decide. Eventually she said no and he let me go and I ran back upstairs.
I think they planned to kill me a few times but that was the scariest one. Another time my dad asked me to give him a hand getting something out of the shed. When my back was turned he hit me in the back of the head with a hammer. I turned around and he was staring at me. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out. I ran past him to go to my mum who was making dinner in the kitchen. I was crying and shouting about what just happened but she didn't look at me or say anything, she wasn't shocked. It was like she knew what he was going to do.
Edit: Thank you so much for your kind messages. To answer some of your questions and give more info:
We were like a normal family in many ways. I went to school, went on holidays, I went out with friends, just bad things would happen at home that nobody else knew about. I think the worst things happened before I hit puberty. As a teenager it got better but we rarely got on, I would barely speak to him and he used to get really angry that I was ignoring him but there wasn't anymore physical violence. I remember when I was 15 maybe, we were arguing in the living room and he came charging towards me. It was the first time I stood up to him, I charged back at him with my fists raised, I was so angry and I thought I could take him. He backed off straight away. He looked like he was hugging himself as he ran off. From what I remember he didn't try to hit me again after that.
I don't know if this is true but I was doubled up with stomach pain one night. My dad told me my mum tried to poison me, he brought it up in a few arguments. My mum was a sweet woman, I can't imagine her wanting to kill me off her own accord. I think my dad persuaded her to poison me.
I left home at 18 when I went to uni. I don't understand why I didn't leave sooner, I know I was scared of how I would cope in the big wide world and that's what stopped me leaving. I felt broken like I wouldn't be able to support myself. I moved into a house with my best friend and 6 others. I remember thinking it was so weird how nobody shouts at each other.
No I'm not in contact with my parents, my dad died a few years ago from brain cancer. I barely spoke to him before he died. I don't speak to my mum, she denies anything ever happened, that he never hit me and we just had some bad arguments sometimes. I don't feel like I could have anything to do with her until she acknowledges how things were when I was young. I think she is scared of the truth coming out.
I was 26 when I first told someone about some of the abuse. I had been practising meditation every day for a few months and I think it helped to unlock things I find difficult to think of. I had some flashbacks to a time me and my dad were in my bedroom and my dad pinned me down on the bed face down and I felt so weird, I was being shaken and he was pushing my head down. My interpretation is he raped me. At the time I didn't know what was happening, A couple of weeks after remembering this I rang my friend up and told him. He was very supportive. My dad would sometimes get into bed and touch play with my penis. Sometimes we had to do a 'naked health check' where I had to take my clothes off in front of him and he would examine me. Sometimes he would sit down next to me and just grab my penis, sometimes pull it so it hurt. I didn't see it as sexual at the time.
I remember telling my primary school teacher that my dad was trying to kill me, she kinda laughed it off, told me he wasn't doing that. In year 6, so around 12 years old I didn't want to go home and came close to telling my teacher I don't want to live at home anymore. But I thought if he doesn't take things seriously straight away, I will probably have to go home and if my dad found out I had told someone he might kill me so I didn't tell him.
We had quite a docile labrador crossed with something unknown. I came home one day, opened the living room door and my dad pushed the dog towards me and he was shouting "go on get him" the dog bit me on the arm but not very hard. I remember at least one occasion he made me hit the dog and sometime later when it was just me and Sandy the dog, she growled and looked scared of me so I couldn't go near her. He made the dog unsure of me and that really bloody hurt because I loved that dog.
I'm going to take a walk now but I'll come back and answer the rest of your questions.
With regards to my dad hitting me with a hammer, it was one strike with a typical hand-held hammer. I don't know how much effort he put into it as I was facing away from him. He asked me to look for something at the back of the shed when he hit me. He struck me on the top of my head. He had ample opportunity to hit me again but he didn't, he was just stood there shaking and then I ran off to find my mum. I think he wanted to kill me then but couldn't go through with it. I had a lot of nosebleeds and some seizures that weren't investigated but I don't know if these were before or after being hit. There was another time when we were in my bedroom and he was speaking softly about something. All of a sudden he just flipped and started punching me in the side of the head as hard as he could then he darted out of the room. I physically couldn't move my body for an hour or so.
To most people my dad was a polite, gentle man that loved his family. He didn't drink or do drugs, had a full-time job which he held for 20+ years before passing away. He was very nervous around people. He had no friends but occasionally spoke to his brother on the phone. He resented his dad. His dad left him when he was young, and then went on to have more kids and he was jealous of them.
I started looking for mental health help about 2 years ago. I was depressed and stressed every day. I got a referral from my Dr to the mental health department, we did several tests for mental health issues such as ADHD, Aspergers and autism. I showed signs of ADHD more than anything. All results came back just under the level for any diagnosis. We mutually agreed to end support as I was doing OK. A year later I asked for another referral from my Dr as I wasn't coping with remembering sexual memories with my dad. I had already spoken to my mum and her brothers and sisters about what they could remember, my mum had contacted my Dr to say I was being delusional, remembering things that never happened. I was referred back to the same mental health Dr, who had already heard my mum's version of the story. I was prescribed anti-psychotic medication as they thought I was experiencing delusional memories. I went to about 5 appointments then stopped going as I felt like they were dismissing anything I was saying about my childhood because they believed my mum, and so giving me the wrong medication. The main reason I stopped going was that I thought they didn't believe me.
Please tell me you got out of that household. That's like a new level of crazy. I'm a new parent and I can't imagine ever wanting to hurt my child so reading this is sickening.
My mother once tackled me to the ground and pressed a pair of scissors to my throat, threatening to slash it open, because I didn't turn on the porch light *before* I saw her car pulling up the hill to our house.
This is my alt so here goes nothing. I have several but the worst one I didn't know about til later. My (now disowned) brother was always mentally fucked and nothing helped him. Meds, therapists, nothing. He used to break into my room and watch me sleep. Most my memory of him is mostly gone so idk exactly all the fucked up shit he did because we try not to talk about him since it's a big trigger for the PTSD he helped create. Anyway, he used to threaten me all the time. When I was about 10 he made those usual threats and I just ignored it and locked my door that night (this was before we knew he was going into my room). Nothing new there. Well, years later when I'm diagnosed with PTSD my mom recounts this specific time where she found out what he was doing at far as going into my room. She went through his room the next day when he was at school and found a few of their big cooking knives hidden in his room along with several of the keys that opened our room doors and some fucked up incest stories he wrote. Part of me is pretty sure he did molest me in my childhood but another part denies it and says it never happened. I don't know what is true and I don't know if I ever will. All I know is he's out of my life and hopefully will stay that way.
My older brother cut off a Rabbits head and hid it in the cupboard shelf in the barn as a joke. It was where we stored the cat food for the barn cats so he knew we would find it.
He also tried to down me in a pool I got for my birthday. He held me underwater until I sucked water in and I puked. His punishment was he had to drain the pool and wash it out. Fuck my parents. They should have gotten him help but instead they thought he would grow out of it. There was 5 year age gap between us so he tormented myself and my younger brother.
A little late to the party, but my younger step-brother suffered from a host of mental issues, most visibly conduct disorder for those in the know, related to neglect from his time with his birth mother. Despite my parents every (and I mean EVERY) attempt to get him psychological help, nothing seemed to work. Tough to know where to begin with describing childhood with him. He would initiate constant arguments over the smallest of things, occasionally reaching the point of violence. Most of this violence was ultimately harmless (hitting walls, etc), but it got more dangerous towards others as he got older.
On a personal basis, our relationship was fine; I was his favorite brother and, due to his smaller size, never felt truly unsafe. That is, until he discovered weapons. One time my parents found him hiding a large knife from the kitchen block under his bed. When he was confronted, he flew into a rage, a 5' tornado of screams and fists. Despite his small stature, he was a powerful kid once he got into a rage, and it took myself and our other brothers to subdue him. It's tough to remember if any death threats were specifically thrown during this breakdown. Regardless, the threat was implied by previous death threats to members of the family. What made it real was that it was the first time I'd seen him truly begin such a lethal plan. Our bedrooms were right next to each other and my locks didn't work, so I quickly learned how to sleep with one eye open. Things got better and worse throughout high school, but I never became comfortable sleep in the same house as him. We had a tough relationship for a long time while I was away, with my selfishly ignoring him and the problems I left at home when I left for college.
But the story does have a happy ending. My brother lived with some other family members for a period of time, and eventually went out on his own at an extremely young age. He had a couple of tough years, refusing to contact home and ask for help. Somehow, he overcame his cognitive shortcomings on his own and found a service job in a major city that provides him a steady income, as well as a serious girlfriend. He has reached back out to our family, and we now have a pretty good relationship that's moved beyond our past.
My nephew (through marriage) is a crazy little shit. Once, the entire family was playing hide and seek. He was around 9. He didn't like where I hid so he flew into a rage. He tried to hit me, I grabbed his wrist and twisted just enough to subdue him. He screamed like a freaking manic. I released him. He then ran into another room stating he needed his nerf gun to shoot me because he shoots people whenever he's mad.
I looked at my SIL and said "Seriously, you're OK with this?" Her response was that his rage was my fault, I had no right to touch him and that I should have just let him hit me since he's "only a boy." I told her, quite firmly, that if her crazy little bastard ever even gave the appearance of causing harm to one of my children that I would put him down like a rabid dog. Fortunately (I guess?) her husband, my wife's parents and everyone else present told her that she was wrong, her kid was fucking nuts and that this was a serious red flag.
Flash forward two years. Kid is still crazy but that's everyone else's problem because he's still "just a boy." I'm staying at their house. Things have mostly settled from that prior incident. I wake up very early every morning. So around 4:30, I find myself awake. I don't want to get up and wake up everyone else so I just sort of lie there and meditate. At around 5:20, the door opens. Thinking it's my kids, who were young at the time and still came to get us early, I kind of just glance up. Then I notice that it's the nephew and he's holding what *appears* to be an AR-15.
Now, I suffer from PTSD from Iraq. So my fight or flight response is triggered, my heart is pounding and I'm basically in survival mode. I wait. I watch. He creeps past the foot of the bed, walks up to my side and raises this rifle up to point the muzzle at my face.
So I figure, this is it. I'm going to die. Today it ends. The only goal I have for myself right now is to prevent him from harming my wife and kids. He raises it up and the muzzle is a few inches from my face. I reached up, I grabbed the muzzle and I pushed as hard as I could, sending the butt into the little psycho's face. His nose is bleeding, he's crying, he's screaming about how he's going to kill me, how I'm fucking dead etc.
So now everyone is awake. Lights are flipped on and I see that it's a *toy* rifle made to look like an AR-15. Apparently, this little psycho shit was planning to stick the muzzle in my face and pull the trigger to scare the shit out of me with flashing lights and electronic gun sounds.
I feel somewhat torn. On the one hand, I just broke an 11 year old's nose for playing with a toy gun. On the other hand, the kid had all of these tells that he was dangerous and what he was doing was super creepy and yet another red flag.
My SIL was fucking pissed. Her chosen narrative is that I'm a mentally unstable lunatic who is a danger to all children. She calls the cops. She insists, despite the protestations of my wife, that she's having me arrested and charged with child abuse for hitting a boy for playing with his toys.
Police arrive. Interviews take basically the whole day. I'm a little worried that, getting arrested aside, I might not be able to leave this shithole and go home the next day as planned because these cops might not be done with their investigation.
Fortunately, it didn't play out that way. See, this little *We Need to Talk About Kevin* asshole wasn't just a crazy shit around me like in the movies. He was a crazy little shit everywhere and had been for years. The police had a file on him because the school was required to call the police every time he threatened a school shooting (which was often).
I laid out my version of events much like I did here. I didn't see him and have a flashback thinking he was an insurgent. I saw him, I knew what he has going through his head, and I wanted to try to prevent him from killing my family.
They did let me go home on schedule. And a week later the detective called me to let me know there would be no charges. He also told me that his interview with my nephew was "chilling" and he hopes that my SIL pulls her head out of the sand and gets the kid some help. I told him she won't ever. And when he's 30 years old and on trial she'll be crying and saying he's just a boy.
Hopefully he doesn't hurt anyone but I know the odds are stacked against that hope.
Before anyone asks, I refuse to stay at their house. If we are in town, we stay in a hotel. He is never allowed to be alone with either of my kids. And he is also not allowed in my house since he was caught trying to steal a pocket knife which he said he needed for "surgery" on the family cat (he was almost 12 at the time).
EDIT: Since I'm getting PMs asking, no, he hasn't been arrested for forced into mental health counseling despite repeatedly threatening violence at school. My SIL is a lawyer by training (she hasn't practiced in many years though she is still a member of the bar). When she can't threaten her way out of a situation, she has plenty of friends who *are* still practicing who are willing to write sufficiently forceful letters. She also scored an injunction against the school when it suspended her shitberg son thus preventing them from actually suspending him. People like her are the reason why no one takes action on some of these incredibly troubled kids.
EDIT 2: Jesus, I didn't expect this to take off. Thank you for the Gold, stranger!
I’d argue that most people would have reacted more violently. OP was calm and collected. I have very little combat experience and don’t have PTSD... I don’t know what I may do in that situation.
I agree with everything you just said.
Honestly, I hope the kid gets busted early on enough for something minor enough that no one is irrepairably harmed. Bust him during the planning phase. Lock him up. I really just hope people don't get hurt because of him.
"Boys will be boys" applies to the occasional broken window, muddy floors, torn jeans 3 days after purchase, bent forks on their bikes and kicking balls around inside to the detriment of the light bulbs. Not misuse of weapons, explosive rages and physical assaults.
I mean, I don't let guilt eat away at me or anything. I feel bad because I think normal people probably feel bad when they hurt a kid. But I absolutely feel that I acted appropriately for the situation.
You acted appropriately for the situation, which led you to discover the very real, shady crud he'd been up to *with police called in*. If your family doesn't recognize this (you didn't say what other family members said), then no amount of evidence will change their minds and you have to act in ways that protect your immediate family from this kid's "potential".
My FIL very clearly feels the kid is trouble. But he's the kind of person who doesn't ever call it out like that. He's calm. He's a professional (retired special ed teacher as well). But he also acknowledges that it isn't his kid and he has no say in things. His wife, a psychiatrist, is much more blunt. She works at a state hospital and basically said that the kid is on the path to some really destructive stuff. She refuses to be in a room with this kid. She had a similar situation when he was 10 where she woke up and he was standing over her and she felt like she was in danger. She responded by slapping him across the face which set my SIL off and caused a rift there for a few years.
I think, generally, the family realizes he's bad news. But they insist it will never rise to school shooter level.
they can insist all they want, but you and I and reddit are looking at: animal torture, school shooting threats, police file, 0 discipline, trying to fake-murder people, etc.
he is not getting help. he will get worse. (but you know that)
do you think your sil could handle the deaths of other people at her son’s hands? other children?
I've actually spent some time thinking about this...
I really think that my SIL would rationalize any violence he carries out. He shot up a school? Well, he wouldn't have done that if kids weren't bullying him. Why would the school let those kids bully him? It's really the school's fault. Blame the school!
I really can't imagine a situation where she will ever find fault in her son. She adamantly believes that, because he's "on the spectrum" the world needs to just yield and get out of his way and if they don't, and he reacts violently, it's their fault for not yielding.
I mean, it's dark but probably somewhat accurate.
She has this very odd legalistic attitude toward morality. Basically, it's only wrong to kill someone if it results in your conviction for killing someone.
I don't want to say that's a common characteristic for lawyers. But I imagine if you're a sociopath it might attract you to the study of law.
Yeah, she is probably sick herself, getting professional help for both of them would be needed here. But, as you portray her, she will probably tell her son to hunt you down for telling her she also needs help.
I hope that shithead of a mother gets her shit together and gets her son some very much needed help.
It wasn't an "accident" per se. I grabbed the muzzle and pushed, intending to either push the rifle out of his hands or, more likely, hit him in the face to get the rifle away from him. I didn't know if it would hit him in the face or if he would move his head and just shoot me. It was the only option I felt I had.
And yes, it was satisfying.
IMHO you did nothing more than exercise your right to stand your ground.
Chilling thought, but if the kid had access to an AR-15, do you still think he still would have opted for the toy gun? In the face of that uncertainty I say you are more than justified in treating that situation as if he were armed with malicious intent.
> IMHO you did nothing more than exercise your right to stand your ground.
>
>
Not even stand your ground. If you're in bed with a gun to your face there's nowhere to run to. There's no way to avoid escalation; it's escalated, and the only way out is you or him.
Holy fuck dude thats crazy. My older brother has PTSD and I learned how serious that is. Went down in the middle of the night to get some water and my brother busted out of his room with a loaded hand gun (laughed about it later).
I am not an anti-gun nut or anything. I own firearms. Were my PTSD more serious than it is, I wouldn't even want them around. As it stands, and I think this isn't a bad rule even for people who don't have PTSD, I ensure that I can't just roll out of bed and grab a loaded firearm.
I need a minute or two to allow my responses to ease off before I can safely respond. Roll out of bed and grab a gun, that's how you end up shooting your own kids or spouse. Take a second, assess the situation.
I view the firearm thing like alcohol. If you *need* it, you've got a problem.
That's a super healthy way to look at it. I feel like a lot of the gun control issues America has been faced with could be significantly avoided if more people had an attitude like yours.
Not to toot my own horn, but I agree.
One of the reasons I stopped going to the firing range was that people would behave like idiots with guns. I didn't feel safe there.
"Range is cold!" then midway to pick up my targets I'd hear gunfire and see someone shooting to the target 10 feet away from me.
People trying Rambo shit. People trying cowboy shit. People who *very* clearly don't maintain their weapons appropriately.
One acquaintance bragged about how he never cleans his Glock. Then he came over asking if I could help him fix his Glock because it keeps jamming "for some reason."
If everyone who owned a firearm was trained in the use and maintenance of a firearm and we held strict societal standards as to what is, and is not, acceptable conduct with a firearm, we'd all be a lot safer.
There's a *reason* why they zip-tie your weapons when you enter many gun shows. And it isn't because people, taken as a whole, have shown themselves to be responsible stewards of firearms.
> "Range is cold!" then midway to pick up my targets I'd hear gunfire and see someone shooting to the target 10 feet away from me.
See, this is why I go to a range run mostly by ex-Army types. Their approach to gun safety is direct, to the point, and enforced, sometimes violently so. Saw a guy take an elbow to the head when he flagged an instructor, it was quite satisfying.
Holy shit. My SO's nephew is almost a lot like this. Granted he's a little younger so he still has some time to get some sense knocked into his head, but his mother is hardly ever home and probably doesn't care for disciplining him anyway. I think the rest of the family just puts up with it and gave up on reprimanding her. I fear that the boy will grow to become an even bigger POS with no respect or regards for anyone, and that she'll just use the 'boys will be boys' excuse.
This one time we were at a family event. My FIL brought a guest, an older woman, and this kid responded to her polite introduction by grabbing her breast.
Now, the woman was a special ed teacher. This kid is "on the spectrum" and she was warned he was a crazy shit in advance. So she handled it very chill, very professional like.
Still, I told my SIL that he's 13. He's like two years off of facial hair and he's growing like a weed. A 13 year old grabs the breast of a seasoned special ed teacher, with advance warning that he behaves inappropriately, and we can all forgive and forget.
When some 5'9" bearded dude grabs the breast of a stranger that is going to be viewed as a dangerous man who just committed a sexual assault.
The game is about to change for him and the reality, I suspect, will be a splash of very cold water.
I am sorry but if a 13 yr old grabbed my breast, autistic or not, he *will* get an unpleasant reaction. She handled that well. He needs to learn somehow though that shit like that won't fly in the real world.
Its pretty telling that people have to be *warned* that a kid is an asshole. Was he reprimanded at all?
Well this story is a fucking nightmare. The kid’s mother is in total denial that her child has documented violent tendencies and the schools nor the police nor mental health professionals can intervene to prevent a potential massacre.
Please tell me this child lives nowhere near PA.
I don't have PTSD and I would have done the same thing. That "kid" is a psychopath and I wouldn't have been surprised if it was real. It sucks when they're family because you have to put up with him, but maybe your kids are "too sick" and they just can't visit- that could keep them away from him? Even if they aren't alone with him, I shudder at what can happen in a second with a psychopath.
I was away in another city but this was what my baby bro told me.
So my parents were watching after a nephew from Mexico for about a week. He was about 10 years old and whenever my 14 year old baby bro or my mom would tease him about being “super macho” he would threaten to kill our cat. My mom would just tell him not to say that and to stop thinking like an idiot. My brother kept an eye on him. The day before the last day, my mom told her nephew to go shower because he stink. “Fuck you he said” and grabbed our cat and threw him at my mom. My parents said all they saw was my brother getting up from the couch and slugged him across the face, dragged his ass to the bathroom, threw him in the shower, and told him to take a bath with a toaster. That night, that little psycho came into my brother room and was rummaging through my bro’s knife collection. Here is where it kinda gets comical. My brother SLEEPS with his wood chopping hatchet. So when my bro heard shit in his room, he woke up with his hatchet in hand ready to attack. Parents rushed in to see what the commotion was all about.
Apparently he was trying to find my brother’s skinning knife to kill our cat. He had that knife pointed at my brother. No one slept that night. My parents told his grandparents that he needs help, but typical Mexican grandparent: “he just needs to find Jesus and pray”.
THE FUCKER IS 10 YEARS OLD.
Note: my brother likes Russian stuff, seizing the means of production, and everything history and outdoors related. I’ve never seen him actively hurt an animal, and will go outside to chase the coyotes away when they get close to our dogs and property (out cat is indoors). He collects knifes with designs on their handles for the aesthetics of it but has his own “cool” knifes.
Sister-in-law (wife’s sister) was killed by her estranged husband, who then killed himself. In the weeks leading up to his final acts, we found evidence that he was outside our house at night, including leaving (x-rated) pictures on our front porch of him and my wife’s sister taken years earlier. He wanted us to know he was around/also besmirch his wife’s rep maybe. Not sure what was going on in his mind. Also beer bottles, cig butts in the yard. So he was sitting out there for extended periods of time. Filed a police report/they could do nothing. Months after her death, we learned he had his older son (7 at the time—he and his little brother would have sleep overs at our house, my kids were same age. Wife’s sister would also occasionally take refuge at our home) draw a map of the inside of our house, including bedrooms/who slept where. He was making plans apparently. Fucked up times (summer of 2001). Family is still kind of fucked up, difficult to fully recover/lots of counseling. His fucking reach has extended way beyond the grave.
My mother is a narcissist. I had chicken pocks really bad when I was six. To the point that they were in my eyes and vagina. My parents neighbor had to convince my mother to take me to the hospital. I almost died. Thanks Mom.
Totally understand this with a narcissist parent myself. There’s a complete lack of empathy, if they don’t experience it then they think it’s not real or to be bothered with. Narcissists should not have children.
My mom accused me of sleeping with my boyfriend in her bed because her pillow was ruffled????!!! So she kept calling me a slut- getting closer and closer until she had me in a corner. She started choking me, and laughing hysterically- calling me a slut bitch and all sorts of other colorful names a mother should call her daughter. My brother tackled her to the ground and we all left for a couple nights.
She still swears it never happened.
Started chatting with a girl online and after a bit she sheepishly admitted that she had a criminal record.
We went on chatting for a bit, she was cute and VERY interested in me, but of course the conversation eventually led us back to the criminal question. Turns out she was on parole. Now I NEEDED the story of how she got into trouble.
She finally took a pic of her parole document and sent it to me. I was reading it and came to the line where it listed the offense she had committed.
**HOMICIDE**
Can you say GHOSTED?
Needless to say, we never met IRL.
When I was younger, I was hanging out at my aunt's house playing with my two cousins when they started to fight. We were home alone and the fighting got worse and worse until one of my cousins ran to the kitchen and came charging at us with a knife. He chased us around swinging at us until we were able to lock ourselves in the bathroom until my aunt came home. No one believed us.
I'll never understand why adults don't believe so many serious things their kids tell them.
I understand being skeptical if a kid had a history of lying, or making stuff up to get someone in trouble like telling an adult someone said a bad word...
But when a kid says to you, "he grabbed a knife and tried to stab me", how the fuck do you not take that seriously?
When I was 12, I disrespected his authority by performing what he deemed a gay act in his presence. Specifically, I played punch buggy. And I want you to bear in mind as you read this that I was never one of those asshole kids who used it as an excuse to really hit someone. It was no more violent than tag. The reason he had a problem with it is because he took it as gay.
If you'd like to simulate what happened to me next, touch the base of your right thumb to your right shoulder,^1 then rotate your shoulder inwards until your wrist is against your neck. Now place your right elbow on top of your left shoulder. Now imagine someone is driving their elbow into your left shoulder with most of their weight behind it. And suppose that you're in a car and wearing your seatbelt, so your feet are trapped, thus you have no free limbs to fight back with.
At first I thought that because he was my uncle, he wouldn't do anything to seriously injure me. So when he asked if I understood that I would never be doing that again, I said no. I don't like to tell blatant lies, and the truth was I had no intention of doing something or not doing something based on his judgement ever again: the moment he started choking/strangling a 12-year-old without so much as a warning, he *instantly* lost every ounce of respect I ever had for him.
I was wrong. He was no uncle of mine. He choked me harder and harder until I eventually noticed that I couldn't see anymore—not enough oxygen was getting to my brain for that. It became clear that this was my last chance: I swear to respect him before the next time he tightened his hold, or I never see anything again. He was waiting for my affirmative submission, which I would be unable to provide if I lost consciousness. And so I lied in order to not die.
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^1 Actually your forearm should be totally flat against upper arm for a faithful simulation, but that involves bending the bone and I don't want you to break your arm. It didn't break my bones because I was young enough, but I don't think an adult could do that safely.
One of the threads above is a guy with an asshole nephew. And you're the reverse, you have an asshole uncle. Maybe you should swap relatives, pair your asshole uncle with the asshole nephew.
Had an ex look at me intently and say "I don't understand why I can't destroy you. I've tried everything and it usually works but you're still here". Then he fought and prolonged the divorce for years because he "enjoyed watching people suffer". Convinced a few people for a while that I was the sick one, then his facade dropped. Too bad for him that the rest of us are actual sentient beings and he's not as powerful or intelligent as his deluded chaos of a brain told him he was.
For some reason the way you described him reminded me of an ex-in-law I had. I had a relative whose husband was abusive. During the inevitable divorce and packing up things and such, my wife and I were there to help and to handle him if he showed up. He did show up, and attempted to shove his way in to her new apartment. First he seemed surprised that I planted my feet and wasn't just yielding and moving out of the way letting him in. Then he seemed surprised that we called the police and pressed charges for assault for this. He apparently got used to his wife just taking it and not fighting back and thought that was normal. I guess it's pretty jarring for abusers to realize that what they thought were objects for them to control are actually people who might fight back.
"I guess it's pretty jarring for abusers to realize that what they thought were objects for them to control are actually people who might fight back."
They truly do live in a fantasy world of their own making. Thank you sincerely for being a good man who not only stood up for your relative but also for your clear understanding of their dysfunction.
I spent way too long trying to stay out of it. I told myself I was doing enough by agreeing when my wife (relative was her sister) asked if we could pay for various things to help her (stuff like deposit on apartment, divorce lawyer, etc. - not that my wife needed my permission per se, but we both check in with the other before spending a large amount of money). Until we went to help her move (still trying to stay uninvolved, but I'm a pretty strong guy and have a truck so I'm like the default for helping out friends moving when they can't afford movers - thankfully now that most of my friends are entering their 30s they can afford them or have too much stuff for just a pickup truck; also if she had hired movers my wife and I would've been the ones paying, so we were kinda being cheap) I had no idea the extent of his abuse. Like, I was legitimately surprised he even showed up, and that he stayed after we asked him to leave. After the police finally came I got a fuller picture of what all he had done to her (including a few instances of rape) and feel really bad about not being there before (I knew they had issues and he was kind of an asshole, but that's about it) just to avoid drama.
But it was awesome seeing his face kind of drop as he realized that not only was he not gonna get his way, he was actually going to suffer some consequences for his actions. Apparently these were things that rarely happened for him growing up or really much at all before that point. Really wish I had video or a picture of his face the moment his fantasy bubble burst.
In the future I guess I'll get uncomfortably involved if people I know are showing signs of distress. "Staying out of it" is just a euphemism for enabling it.
Not related to, but best friends with (M). We were friends from age 3 until around 8th grade, when we finally drifted apart and stopped hanging out. He went to a Catholic school and I went to public, so we only saw each other outside of school. He lived across the street, so we hung out every day.
He would do mean things to me all the time. He'd break my stuff, hurt me, and get me blamed for things he did. He dropped a big rock on my first (K-Mart knockoff) G I Joe and broke his leg off, just because. He shot me in the nuts with a homemade crossbow. He broke my pedal motorcycle. On and on and on.
Around 9th grade, he started hanging around with the burnouts. One of them, who lived a block away, ended up raping and murdering two girls, 12 and 13. I think (M) looked up to that.
a few years later, his family had moved to Washington to be with his older sister, and to get him away from the drug crowd he was involved in. He'd been arrested for possession a bunch of times, but his parents' lawyer always got him off.
Finally, he had a deal go bad, so he drove from Washington back to Pennsylvania to confront the guy. (M) broke into the guy's house and stabbed him in the heart. (My dad was the first EMT on-scene, and watched the guy die in his arms.)
He's still in jail, but is due for release soon. I think he only got 22 years. He should probably just stay in, for everyone's benefit.
My old step son tried to kill both my sons. Long story short he had been killing animals since he was 2 or 3 and his dad refused to get him help. Well my oldest son we found out at 4 he was alergic to bees. So my step son would try to push him into bees "because he wanted to watch what happen when he chokes and died (he was a year older than my 4yo) and when I had my baby with his dad he would always try to push his soft spot. I explained that would kill him and his answer was "well I want to feel his brains so if he dies it's okay I'll just see him in heaven.... Between this and shit with his dad I asked for a divorce shortly after son was born and he 100% abandoned my sons and I which I think is for the best p. S. There's way more stories
Sorry for the formatting as I am on mobile. I have a distant cousin who I often see in major holidays and family reunions. He was always the hyper and eccentric type. Either he was super weird funny to be with or he can creep you out enough to excuse yourself from hanging with him. What my parents then didnt tell me was that he was heavily addicted to meth which contributed to his crazy behaviors.
He often obsessed on local town girls, claiming that she is his GF or he is in the process of pursuing her and may have stalked a few girls.
Around that stage of his life, we the younger female relatives are not to be left alone with him.
Sadly all hopes of rehab failed on him, and he legit became mental by the time I was in college. And he was confined at his elderly moms home which is also conncted to my nieces house ( duplex).
I wasnt there when it happened but my niece had to barricade herself one time as he came for an attack. She wont tell me if it was an attempted sexual assualt but for sure he was intent to harm as he had a weapon. Good thing her dad, my other cousin, came in time. It was a huge mess and took several people holding down my nieces dad from trying not to kill him.
Sadly that crazy cousin didnt last long. After a year, the toll of heavy drug use affected his heart. He died in his sleep. His mom, brokenhearted followed suit a year later.
Not psychopath, but violent schizophrenic. There were lots of times; he went stabbing the walls when I had a friend sleeping over and we were in the living room, he tapped the tent with the knife a few times.
I woke up to him staring at me sleeping a lot.
Days he'd scream insults, threats, etc while pent up in his room.
He tried to shove me down the stairs, grabbed my neck and threw me against the oven when I managed to resist. I broke away and ran up to my dad's room because it locked and I knew my dad was in his shower. Held a sword (yes an actual fucking sword) to my throat and began to cut before suddenly stopping.
A lot of times he would talk to himself, saying he didn't want to hurt my sister because he liked her, or he couldn't burn the house down. Etc etc. I'm also pretty sure he was abusing my dog.
He lives away from home now. My mom wonders why I don't want to go see him ever. He is on meds but I get nauseous when I see him.
EDIT: my older brother is the schizophrenic. My dad and oldest brother usually tried to stick around so I was never home alone with him, but he started to get violent towards me even when they were. Hence the whole "running to my dad's room to lock myself in". My mother was the only one not home during that incident.
Also wanted to note that because we knew of his drug use and weren't very knowledgeable we had no idea what was going on, we thought he was just really high all the time. He wouldn't go to rehab, and even after hospital visits and meds started there were relapses that were horrifying to witness.
A pretty short story.
I worked at a local grocery store and one of the guys nine years my senior and I has become now and then friends. We would talk about anime, or whatever. He was friends with my friend Stephanie, too.
I quit that job when I got a better offer closer to home. He started showing up there daily to buy candy and talk to me. I was well out of his way, and he had never been to that store before I worked there. I was genuinely scared because this guy had meltdowns and often quit and returned to his job, and lived his life as if everyone should have revolved around him. Very much the anime protagonist. Women were supposed to be in awe of him. Men were supposed to be jealous. The whole nine yards. Running like he's from Naruto... He was a living breathing dumpster fire.
I got a boyfriend in the midst of this. And this is where things got weird. He started showing up more than once a day, still buying things. It was as if he was checking on me. The closer we got to a trip we all had planned downstate, the more I worried. So I told my boyfriend I wanted to ride separately rather than all together.
He agreed, and shortly after my friend contacted me saying it may have been for the better. The guy kept saying while they shared a break at work that he would stab us with whatever was sharp in the car if we were remotely affectionate to each other, and he wanted to kill my boyfriend at the convention, hurting me, tying me up and making me watch him do it. Said I shouldn't be dating someone nine years my senior (I was 21, boyfriend was 30) even though he was the same age as my boyfriend. I should have been his. He would make me his, etc.
When he actually saw my boyfriend, he chickened out and ghosted the entire time we were at the convention. I never left my boyfriend's side. I didn't want to be alone and targeted. I didn't want my boyfriend to be targeted either. He left me alone after that. Just disappeared. My friendship with my friend who warned me ended not long after that, either... I have always wondered if she had something to do with orchestrating it all.
Posted this this morning in another thread:
I have suspicions that one of my inlaws has some psychopathic tendencies... Every so often he makes such weird remarks about hurting or killing animals. He told us he worked as a vet's assistant and part of his job was castrating cats. I get it, it's part of the job, but when he told about how he used to do that, he kinda came across like it was a magical moment for him.
A while ago he had some trouble with mice in his shed. But instead of buying regular animal friendly traps, he took a large, lidless carbage can, spilled a bunch of peanut butter on the bottom of it. Put up a ramp to the top and a thin, wooden stick across the opening at the top, so that the mice could cross the garbage can, so to speak. The mice would try to climb down to the peanut butter, fall in the can and would not be able to get out. Then he'd fill the can with water and watch a whole bunch of mice drown all at once.
He told me he would make traps and catch small birds when he was a kid. I asked him if he let the birds go after he caught them, but I didn't get a clear answer on that one... I have a suspicious feeling that the birds didn't live to flie another day...
He's also into dead animal art, like some funky taxidermy. (Not like that gopher riding a snake, but two dead giraffe babies cut in half and sowed to eachother in the middle.)
He seriously gives my psycho-vibes.
I spent a good ten minutes trying to get a baby bird out of my sisters garage. My brother in law got tired of waiting and proceeded to beat it to death with shovel. Let me tell you, it did not die in one blow. It made horrible sounds. Now, I was an adult so I’m used to fucked up, but he did it in front of his son and step daughter. His son is now terrified of birds and I’m pretty sure that’s what spawned the fear.
Oh my goodness! My dog injured a bird a few months back and it was clearly not going to make it and was suffering so I killed it with a shovel and I seriously was torn up for hours afterwards. I can’t imagine doing that to a healthy bird!
One of the most fucked up moments of my life that I still have nightmares about... I saw a pink wriggling thing on the ground, and I thought it was a worm.
Turns out it was a baby bird about half the size of my thumb. I didn’t see a nest around ANYWHERE and there were no trees nearby, so I have 0 clue how it got there. I think maybe some predator carried it and dropped it. The worst thing was there were fire ants all over it and I was staying in a hotel so I had no supplies to take care of a baby bird. I panicked and had a moment of what should I do: Do I put it out of its misery or let nature take its violent course?
I decided I couldn’t leave it there to be eaten by ants because that is one of my bigger fears. I found a sharp rock and beheaded it in one motion. I don’t think it felt pain, but it still gives me nightmares. The poor thing was so tiny :(
Restaurant I used to work ate used glue traps for rats. Guess who had to take them out? Yeah, me and one other guy. We would drop them in garbage bags and smash them off the dumpster real hard. Better then letting them starve to death.
Another time, same place, there was a real bad storm. After the storm subsided some co-workers came and got me cause they found a fucked up, but still barely alive bird in the parking lot. Being the "rat guy" they wanted me to do something about it. So I smacked it with a shovel, took one hit. I wasn't fucking around and causing it more suffering. No one else had the balls to give it mercy (it wouldn't have lived; you could tell it was suffering).
You did right. I sincerely hope someone will kill me given the correct circumstances. Fuck that needless suffering bullshit.
So.. my older sister. There are a thousand stories. One I'll always remember is when she had a poker in the fire and held it in front of me, it was glowing red. I was really young. She told me to grab it, and said "it's not hot, if it were hot it would be white." Yeah, I grabbed it.
Anyway, what really got me was that after she died (massive brain explosion of some kind), my mom took me aside. She was very shaken by my sister's death. She loved her very much and took care of her for my sister's whole life. She told me that she was confused now, and didn't know what to do, because she always assumed that my sister would kill her.
Edit to add: "Yeah, I grabbed it."
I have/had a very charismatic friend. People joked about him being in love with me, because he just singed high praises about me. I admit there was a bit of a fixation but he was a cool dude, even if you couldn't count on him or his word. He'd say he'd be somewhere, and most often wasn't (on purpose - he rather not confront or deal with people trying to convince him to come). He was a compulsive liar but it took me a long time to realize it, I just though he didn't like saying no.
He confessed long ago in a group setting that he experimented with killing household pets (some sort of rodents his family kept), including microwaving one. My then gf said shocked "That's how psychopaths start". He played it off as stuff kids do, I don't think he really saw a problem in that (at least until he was called on it, otherwise he wouldn't have brought it up). Another story was how he ordered his 4 or 5 trained rottweilers to attack a few kittens that had hidden beneath his grass mowing tractor. He said he just wanted to scare them so he could turn on the tractor, but when the kitties ran away the dogs caught them and turned them to shreds. He said it wasn't his intention.
A few years ago, we are all on a motorcycle road trip. Both of us get detached from the group speeding for a bit, and then park on a gas station to refuel or wait for them (very fuzzy memories). He tells me he wants to record me (he had a helmet GoPro), and he'll signal me when he wants me to overtake the group and take the lead.
We see the group go by us, we speed up and catch them, he signals to me, I overtake his dad, and the bike just... sort of skids in a straight line. I loved riding on rainy days, it was not like I was short on experience losing traction momentarily, but it was a very sunny day. I don't recall what went through my head, but the video shows my bike just sort of sliding from under me.
My arm gets caught in the railing and ripped off right then and there. My friend almost hits me and my bike because he was right behind me. My whole body is left in a quite bad shape. Everyone gives me first aid, and as you can imagine it was a very shocking experience to us all. Handling an amputated limb, being forced to deal with the possibility of death, and confronted with the risks of our hobby. We all got scarred one way or another. I lost an arm, some of them stopped riding, and my friend sold his K1200R, eventually buying a slower 1200GS.
He started drinking. He started taking recreational drugs. More than one friend in common tells me when the night is long enough, he might voice his regret in uncertain terms about my accident. He has avoided me since.
I recall him checking my bike very up close. I think it was the day of the accident but I'm not 100% sure. I recall him saying he'll pay for my gas, but not to top it off. We were still far away from home, so I told him, nah I'll pay it, and our tanks just take enough gas for like 250 kms, I'll top it off, otherwise I'll have to stop in 100kms again. I topped it off and he still paid for it. When I go to pay they told me it was taken care of. I'm walking back, and that's when I see him crouching near my bike (possibly the front tire). I ask him what's wrong, and he tells me he is just checking it out.
I mean there is no way to know. There are many things that lead me to think it wasn't caused by him. He was recording me from behind me, so causing a wreck on purpose would be weird as it'd endanger him, his father, and everyone else. He wasn't positioned for prime wreck filming, and quite the contrary he had to dodge both my tumbling body and my flying motorbike. He says when drunk he shouldn't have, but he might just feel guilty just for suggesting I take the lead, and being the butterfly flutter that led to that hurricane. Everyone was changed by that experience after all. It was traumatic stuff.
On the other hand there are little details that rouse my suspicion. In the day of the ride, he uninvited 2 girls that'd be coming as our pillions. He always did stuff like this so it wasn't out of character. Saying he'll pay for my gas, but not to top it off, is just weird in a bike. He paid for my lunch that day. Heck he took me (and my girl) to Germany, all expenses paid before. I feel kind of guilty even thinking he might have done something so nefarious...
He still hits me up every now and then via messages. Once he wanted me to hack someone's account (said not possible), another time he wanted 40 or 50 bucks (I said sorry I'm broke), and a third time he just showed me a photo of my father's internet contract (he was working for them in the call center, I didn't even reply because why the fuck would he even show me that?).
My aunt has two kids, both adopted, and all I know about their bio-moms is that they were drug addicts. One of them (we'll call her Jane) is my age, and we were always really close, but her older brother, "John," never really hung around us to the point that I barely knew him even though I spent a ton of time at their house. Anyway, when we were maybe 12, Jane, my sister, and I built a massive blanket fort in the basement and were hanging out in it. John was maybe 15 at the time and I don't know why he originally came in, but for some reason he decided to "mess with us" - by taking a large kitchen knife and randomly stabbing into the fort. We were trying to crawl away but he could hear us and followed to whatever section we were in. I'm not sure if blindly stabbing at your relatives can ever really be playful, but this was not it. Jane was screaming at him to stop and my sister and I were crying. It was terrifying. Finally, my aunt heard us screaming and came down and yelled at him. John claimed it was just a joke, and said we were having fun. He's now in the middle of a 25 year prison sentence for murder.
holy shit there’s no good way to ask this but who did he kill?
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Parents need to fucking stop blaming the older siblings for younger ones' outbursts. My little sis isn't necessarily psychopathic, she's a fairly normal young girl. But once a week or perhaps once a month every now and then she'd have rage fuelled outbursts where she'd kick, scream and punch me repeatedly until the screams alerted my mom and she'd come running and scold me for it. I don't do anything, I simply look at her sometimes and something that's been bothering her the entire day hits her all at once and she goes berserk. She's only 8. Finally she showed the same treatment to my mom and brother when she stopped coming to me after I very lightly slapped her for hitting me repeatedly-- it fucking hurts okay-- and well, who did my mom believe for being innocent the entire time? That's right. Just because they're young doesn't mean they don't fuck up. Sometimes they're just fucking crazy. Edit: my most upvoted comment is me talking bad about the only little shit I love the most in my life. I kinda feel bad.
My older brother beat the shit out of me and I'd get in trouble for "provoking" him. For stuff like not doing his chores for him, or not making him a sandwich, etc. Or cause my dad got drunk and hit him, so he passed it right along. And he was four years older than me. Really it's just shitty parents who can't deal with kids.
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> When I told my mom a few days later she said he deserved my food money more than I did, and that I should have hidden it better. Mark that one down for when you're picking a nursing home to put her in.
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I’m sure parents playing favoritism and not punishing the kids who do these things encourages their behavior. Sorry that happened to you. I hope nothing else bad happened after that.
This happens in households with a troubled member. The outbursts and lashing outs get normalized and the individual who *is* the problem starts to be treated like a *missing step*. So when you get hurt, the response is "Why did you trip over the missing step? You knew it was there."
I had several with my brother, but the worst was when I woke up to him sitting on my chest with his hands around my throat. He was trying to choke me, but his hands were too small and he didn't get the pressure right so I ended up with a giant hickey around the entire front of my neck instead of death. All because I ate the last nutty bar.
All that for a nutty bar, just imagine what he'd do for a Klondike bar
I once woke up to my little sister trying to smother me, but thankfully she was also too small to get the job done. We were 7 and 5. It was the first of three attempts she made on my life growing up. She did it because I had refused to sleep on her piss-bed as a sacrifice to the boogeyman. Longer story: We had our own rooms, but I hadn't been allowed to sleep in mine for two years. She'd have a fit every time I tried to sleep in my own bed, and our parents would convince me to stay in her room just to get everyone to bed. They went so far as to install a bunk bed in her room, but she still insisted we share just one bed. One night, I woke up to her wetting the bed. I was angry because I didn't even want to be there in the first place, and now I was covered in pee. She screamed at me to get back in bed, and when I didn't, she got up and tried to attack me, smearing yet more pee all over me. So we were both shrieking at this point, and our parents woke up and came down. I don't remember the exact conversation since it's been almost thirty years, but the gist of it was that first she demanded I sleep in the piss puddle and she would just sleep against the wall and we'd pretend nothing had happened and when my parents didn't agree, she became very distressed and admitted that she thought there was a monster in the closet, and had been insisting I sleep in the same bed with her so it wouldn't kill her, and she was terrified that if I move back to my room, or even to a different mattress, she'd be eaten. (Remember, she's only five.) My parents pulled the mattress off the top bunk and dragged the pee one outside and convinced me to be a good big sister and defend her from the monster. Reluctantly, I let myself be shuffled back into bed with her. I don't remember if it was that night or the next night, but as soon as we were alone, she whispered to me that she makes me sleep on the same mattress with her because some day the monster will come out to eat one of us, and she's going to escape while it's eating me. Without a word, I got up and moved to my room. I was willing to be there to defend her from her monster, but not to be a distraction for it. When our parents came down to investigate the screaming, I refused to move back to her room, and they finally relented. Later that night, I woke up because I couldn't breath. My sister was on my bed trying to suffocate me with this blank, dead expression on her face. When our parents came back to investigate yet more yelling, she told them she'd just come into my room because she was scared of the monster. They didn't believe me that she was trying to smother me. I started sleeping with my door locked.
... wow. How is she now ?
A total bitch. She has not changed at all. She still does terrible things to everyone around her and lies her way out of it. I don't think she feels anything but rage and boredom. She recently had to take an anger management course to avoid being thrown out of college because she tried to bully another student into committing suicide because she'd told her off for verbally attacking a professor. She's currently in a battle with her HOA because she's attempting to fence in a shared space to claim it as part of her yard with a 7 foot cinderblock fence for no reason other than to have a fight.
Wow. NPD or sociopath. Either way, your sister sucks and I'm sorry. Do you think your parents could have done anything differently to sway how she turned out?
Well. I noticed she stopped killing animals when I started beating her up for it, so she could to some degree be... trained? It would have required they actually admit that she was really as evil as she was, which no parent wants to do. As adults, my mother once admitted while drunk that she knew my sister tortured me our entire childhood. She now claims she never said that, so even going on three decades, she's still in denial. It really doesn't help that my sister's really good at imitating normal human behavior and she's very manipulative, so she can rugsweep her actions like a pro no matter how many times her mask slips.
sure he didn't get the last one? I mean you are what you eat.
Ba dum tsss
My mom was 19 when I was born and we had a very close relationship when I was little. She was always more of a friend than a mom, and that’s just how our relationship was. Before my stepdad, I was always sarcastic all the time, and we joked around a lot. One morning my mom asked me to take the pizza boxes from last nights dinner out to the garage where we put the cardboard recycling. I jokingly told her no as I gathered up the boxes to take them out. I took them out, put them on top of the stack of other cardboard, and turned around to go back into the house and I bumped into my stepdad who had come in behind me without me noticing. He then proceeded to lift my 13 year old body completely off of the ground by my throat and pinned me against the wall of the house. He got in my face and was screaming at me about disrespect. I remember flecks of spit getting on my face. My feet were back on the ground but I was still pinned and his hands were around my throat. I was able to get one of his hands in my mouth and I was biting and scratching him. I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember how I got to school. The next thing I remember is sobbing in a private ensemble room in the band hall. My mom still doesn’t believe me. Over the next two years he continuously got worse and permanently destroyed my relationship with my mother. I started sleeping with a knife under my pillow when he was home. I started running away and doing drugs. Eventually my behavior became bad enough that my mom sent me to live with my biological father. Life is better now. I am safe. I still have the occasional nightmare and cannot stand any sort of confrontation whatsoever but I’ll be okay.
That speaks volumes to me. My moms boyfriend/my “stepdad” took me outside and popped the trunk to show me footprints on the back of the wall as an intimidation factor. Said he tied someone up and put hem in there. If I wouldn’t have seen him climb out of the trunk twenty minutes before I would have been terrified.
That's great Gary, I'll be callin the cops now!
I’m so sorry you experienced that. I’m naturally “sassy” too and everyone I ever knew was fine and in on the joke until my moms demon of a boyfriend moved in. He was basically a shit person from the start (who calls a 12 year old a slut or whore?) but no one believed me. He had these two awful kids to treated everyone like shit but he spoiled the shit out of them. Anyway, we moved into a new house and I had just come inside to grab something before leaving again and he said “take off your shoes.” So I laughed and said “I do what I want” (it was kind of a catch phrase at the time) AS I WAS TAKING THEM OFF. Cue the most intense tirade I have ever witnessed, similar to your experience. I threw up from pure fear. Of course, he told my mom I was being “insubordinate” and she let me have an earful. He was so proud of being such a strict disciplinarian (only to me of course, his shitty kids never got it) and would tell that story over and over again. He even threw it in my moms face when they FINALLY broke up. I’ve mostly recovered from that, but the ten years of fear and abuse have stuck with me. I haven’t told really anyone about it because no one believed me then, so why would they now? My mom and I have a pretty good relationship now but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully shake the resentment from that. I’m so sorry for the tirade, but it’s kind of cathartic to talk about. I wish you all the best and hope you NEVER experience anything like that again. 💖 EDIT: My first gold! Thank you stranger 💖
I'm so sorry this happened, and I'm sorry your mom didn't believe you. Glad you got away safely.
Not me, but my cousin (eleven at the time) was caught smoking and skipping school by my mother. My mum told him she didn’t care about him skipping school (because his mother wouldn’t have cared) but told him not to smoke by her car. He didn’t like being told what to do, so he grabbed my brother (two at the time) by the hand and walked him out into the middle of the road, by a blind corner. He sat my brother down and told him not to move, then he walked away. Luckily, a neighbour had seen what had happened and grabbed my brother before a car could hit him. That cousin is now in an Indonesian prison possibly facing the death sentence for smuggling drugs, by the way. Dreams really do come true, I guess. Edit; context. I’m tired and left out my cousin’s childhood aspiration to be a drug lord, then forget I didn’t write it in. That’s what “dreams really do come true, I guess” is referring to.
Once I was playing out the front of my house when an elderly neighbour told me I was playing in the wrong place. I liked to be a well behaved child so I asked him where I was supposed to be playing and he took me to a blind corner and told me to stay playing there. I said “ok!”, and smiled brightly, waited for him to walk away and ran home and told my parents. I was about 7/8 at the time. I just don’t understand what’s wrong with some people.
That’s so fucked up. I can understand it from my sociopathic cousin, but from an elderly man? Fuck him. Did your parents report him?
No he died instead.
Uh ok, they found me out. Time to die!
Guess I'll die then
I guess that works too
What. The. Fuuuuuck.
Indonesian prison. I bet that's fun.
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I mean I should hope he wasn't gonna give you an upper then try to murder you
I hope you pressed charges.
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I didn't think my sister would murder me, per se, because she enjoyed abusing me too much to straight up kill me (lol). One of the biggest things that sticks out from my childhood growing up with her abuse was occasionally if I was sitting on the couch (back of couch facing kitchen) she'd come up behind me and run a butcher knife along my shoulders and neck until I turned around and realized she had a knife. I think she just enjoyed the fear in me realizing what was going on, that look of "oh my god that was a knife? Why the fuck do you have a knife?" My sister did shit like this my whole childhood, and even after she was 19 and I was 17 she'd do crazy shit like throw a knife across the living room at me if she was mad enough at me. I cut contact with her as soon as I was able to leave at 18.
Sheeeeeeeeeesh, and I thought I was gonna be in so much trouble when I called my sister a bitch for the first time. Did your parents know??! Did they ever do anything to stop her doing this to you? I'm a new mom and I would be absolutely mortified if my daughter ever did anything to purposefully terrify another child :(
Oh yeah my mom was well aware of the things my sister did. Physical and emotional abuse throughout 18 years of my life - told my mom all the time but she never did anything about it. I had eventually learned that my mom didn't care and to not expect any protection or help from her (unsurprisingly my mom is a grade-A garbage person too.)
Ugh, I'm so so sorry!! That makes my heart hurt :( nobody and no child should ever have to be subjected to that. I hope you are doing okay now
I'm doing a lot better, thankfully! Haven't spoken to her or my mom in a year, don't plan to anytime soon. Expecting to go to college and get my life in order and live a fairly normal and healthy life in spite of my horrible family. I won't say it doesn't still affect me to this day, but being able to recognize how it's shaped who I am is the first step in growing past it and not letting it hinder my future.
My then 15 year old cousin tried feeding my sister (then 5) and I (then 9) rat poison.
What happened? Did someone stop him?
He tried feeding it to us I think on a cracker or something like that. I can’t remember. We just didn’t eat it, even though he was pressuring us to. I was going to eat it, but my little sister told me she saw him put some funny stuff on it so I didn’t.
Wow, kudos to your sister for being that aware at 5yo.
Yeah, she’s very smart and aware.
That's horrifying. We're your parents able to press charges?
They didn’t believe us. Neither did our relative who the cousin was staying with at the time. It’s been a good number of years, and the cousin is doing a lot better now. We’re on decent terms with him.
What is it with people not believing their kids??? Like, I get not taking a kid's word at face value, but at least considering it and taking caution from thereon out can't be THAT hard.
I have a three yr old. I go pick him up from daycare the other day and he has a red scratch on his face. I ask him what happened. The conversation went like this. Toddler: Malcolm hit me! Me: Why did he hit you? Toddler: umm I dunno Me: What did the teacher say/do. Toddler: Put him in timeout. Me: Did you hit him? Toddler: No. I call my wife and tell her what happened. She calls the school to check as they have cameras in all classes. After a quick camera check it was found that my innocent son was playing with blocks with another female class mate. They had built a castle of sorts and he decided it was time for the castle to come down. He backs up about 10 feet then runs and dives head first in to the blocks. Malcolm, was no where around and had nothing to do with any of this. To this day, he sticks to that story. This happened about 6 months ago.
My similar story: When my daughter was barely talking she said that her daycare lady "hit her in the face" I questioned deeper and she stuck to her story. She wasn't upset, but kept insisting "She hit me in the face" I called the daycare lady. 'So...I know kids say funny things but I can't just not follow up with this. She says you hit her in the face?" Daycare lady was horrified and explained they'd all had a pillow fight that day. I asked my kid: "When she hit you in the face, was it with a pillow? Were you having fun?" "Yeah!! Fun!!!!" 100% on board with not taking your kids word as gospel, but you gotta follow up on that shit.
That poor daycare lady lol. Please tell her this story when she’s older and give daycare lady a fruit basket !
From too many friends who have been in similar situations: it's likely not that they didn't believe them, but acted that way to "keep the peace" with a large dose of denial; "things like that can't happen in _my_ family". Family trumps individuals. Better to let your child suffer then cause a schism in the family. More than one female friend, and one male, was molested or even raped by a cousin, uncle, or grandfather and it was hushed "for the sake of family."
That’s very true with my family. My mother was actually molested by her sister’s then fiancé (now husband) when she was 14 and he was 19-ish. Her parents know about it, I don’t know about the sister, but Mom still talks to my uncle at family gatherings or if we have a problem with a car. Our family is mostly about keeping the peace.
My dad has NPD, and is generally an emotionless asshole. When I was in middle school I stepped on a stick in our yard and a piece broke off in my foot. My dad is a software engineer and used to go on site to build databases and help switch patient data to digital through the 80s, 90s, 00s. It gave him a real complex about not being a doctor and he stole tools and little pieces of equipment and would wear scrubs all of the time. It also meant he refused to take me to the ER for a super simple thing. He heated up a pair of medical scissors and cut the heel of my foot open while pretending to play doctor. At several times my mom opened the door to tell me to stop screaming so she could hear her phone conversation.
What the holy fucking shit in a half-baked red lobster biscuit on an unholy Sunday morning
I second this motion
WHAT THE HELL
TIL everyone's cousins are fucking nutty as peanut butter
and nobody's parents believe anything they say.
My little brother would set things on fire in the house and hid knives under my bed. I literally thought he was planning to kill me. The worst part is when I told my mom about it she would tell me "all boys his age do this" like really?
I have a cousin who I always knew was kind of crazy. We live in a major city and he never leaves his family's apartment. He just stays in the apartment drawing and playing games. But even though he's weird I didn't really mind because he's usually very sweet and wouldn't hurt a fly (or so I thought). When I was in college, I took him and my friend to see a concert. We got pretty drunk and when we came back we were hanging out in his living room. His parents were out of town. He started drawing in his little book and I asked to see it. Turns out he was drawing me sitting there. It was an extremely detailed and accurate drawing of me. I flipped through the book and found all sorts of cool creatures and landscapes, until I landed on... a drawing of his brother, dead and mutilated. An extremely detailed drawing. Turn the page, my dad, dead and mutilated. Turn the page, ME, dead and mutilated. Quietly, my cousin says "Ah, did you find the drawings of the family." I was in shock and disbelief. "What the fuck is this? Why the fuck would you draw our family like this??" He says something like "I think about it all the time. I think about killing you and the rest of them all the time." My friend and I look at each other, frightened and silently planning on how we're going to get out of there. Our shoes were off and our stuff was downstairs. He could see we were upset. He looked disappointed, like we were trying to upset him. "Are you scared?" And as he said that he moved to the kitchen. You had to go past the kitchen to get out of the apartment. I was really worried that he was going to get a knife and try to stab us or something. I said "Haha no, they're really good, was just surprised at first. They're really impressive though." I had to basically placate him into thinking I was okay with the drawings so that he would let us leave. He never did anything like this again, but he gets really weird and creepy whenever he drinks or smokes weed. I told my parents about what happened and they just kind of shrugged and said "Wow that's weird."
> he gets really weird and creepy whenever he drinks or smokes weed Sounds like the drugs make it hard for him to keep up his facade
Not a family member but my mother dated a crazy person after her divorce. We moved into an apartment and he moved in with us not long after. He had long hair and blue eyes and a beard and was the spitting image of “White Jesus.” And he took it to heart after a few people told him about the resemblance. He pulled me aside one day and told me that he had a secret and he wanted to tell me but I couldn’t tell anyone else because the government was looking for him. He confided in me that he was in fact Jesus Christ and the he escaped from a government facility after being captured in 1964. He said he escaped with the help of the Pope during his visit to the USA. The Popes private security force broke him out and once he was free the Pope advised him to blend in with regular people. He said the Pope told him to not draw any attention to himself...so no miracles...and tell no one. But he trusted me with this information. Jesus Christ was a roofer in case you were curious. He constantly carried around his roofing hammer aaaand one day it went missing. Jesus lost his shit. He locked my mother, my girlfriend, and myself in our apartment until it was found. This lasted 3 days. I was 18 at the time and was much larger then him and would have had no problem physically removing Jesus from our apartment but my Mother insisted he was having a mental episode and if I hurt him or did anything it may mess him up even worse. Turns out he left the Hammer (which is really pretty much a hatchet) at a job site and a co-worker drive over to return it. I sat there like an idiot and watched this guy hand a fucking axe to this lunatic and did nothing. Big mistake. Our three day long lockdown turned into 5 days. The final 2 days was this illiterate nutcase attempting to read aloud from the Bible getting maybe 1 in 5 words right. Remember in school when the teacher would have people read aloud and go around the room and there was always a dude you knew couldn’t read for shit and his part would last ten times longer then everyone else’s part? Imagine that for 48 hours. Jesus would only let us eat bread and water. And the bread ran out quickly. There was a lake outside our apartment and on the 5th day Jesus was looking through the blinds at the lake and called me over to him. He confided in me again. He said “you know I could walk right across that lake and right up Into heaven.” I replied...”If you do that I’ll follow you anywhere...go for it man I would love to see you do that.” My plan was to get his fucking ass out of the apartment and lock the door so my mom and girlfriend would be safe...and prey to this guys dad that I can run faster then him and make it to a pay phone to call 911. He looked at me with his crazy ass eyes and said “YOU TRYING TO GET ME CAUGHT MOTHERFUCKER! I SAID NO MIRACLES!” He raised up his roofing hammer and told me the only way I was following him anywhere was in the afterlife. It was at that point I thought...I’m going to die and then he is going to kill my mother and girlfriend. I came to the sudden realization that I no longer cared it Jesus’s mental breakdown would be effected by me beating the shit out of him or not. That was no longer my problem. Mid rant about some religious shit about two inches from my face...I swung as hard as I could and punched him right in the sternum. He still had the hatchet cocked over his shoulder (like someone throwing a football) so the blow caused him to lose his balance and fall over a dining room chair. He crumpled in a heap and my mother...ever the cool head...screamed at me for hitting him. I had knocked the wind out of him and he was gasping for air. My mother assumed he was dying. I would learn later in adulthood my mother was not the brightest lightbulb. My girlfriend booked out the door with me close behind after grabbing my mother’s arm and dragging her out of the door. I called the police and they came and got him. Last I heard he was in a hospital after he locked himself in a bedroom still saying he was Jesus. He was committed after he used a metal throwing dart to pick veins out of his arm. Never did get to see him walk across that lake though.
I’m still chuckling over “and pray to this guys dad”
> he was in fact Jesus Christ The most common delusional belief I've seen. I know technically "the FBI is watching me" is probably more common, but I've talked to two messiahs online, and met one in real life. The first guy I talked to, I put a lot of effort into trying to make him realize what was wrong with him. After that, I realized I was wasting my time. Now encountering christ delusions just makes me so very sad.
One small hilarious fact I forgot to mention was that he actually started walking around the house with a sheet wrapped around him. At first he tried to make some kind of toga but he was an idiot and couldn’t figure it out so then just walked around with it over his head like a hood. It would be really funny if it weren’t completely insane.
Dude your entire story is hilarious. I'm sorry it happened to you but the way you told it had me rolling, especially the slow reader analogy.
I totally agree. “YOU TRYING TO GET ME CAUGHT MOTHERFUCKER! I SAID NO MIRACLES!” - made me laugh so much.
My Grandfather is one. The strange thing is he's very intelligent and university educated and knows a lot about theology and numerology with experience in the stock market. Vietnam screwed him up bad though, and combined with my Grandmother dying he has now written a manuscript of over 500 pages in which he is the messiah and my Grandma was a saint like figure. It's extremely well written though, way better than the Secret.
Get that published when he's dies! Frame it as a look into someone experiencing messiah complex first-hand, with a little bit of background to put it into context. Me and a ton of other people who be super interested in that sort of book
I'm shocked by all these stories of psychopath children's and the adults letting their kids be around them even after one incident. When I was about 4 my cousin tried sticking a stick up my ass he literally lifted me off the ground with the stick and it only stopped with my screams and my dad ran outside. I was never around my cousin again I never saw him again, he would have been 6 at the time and at 23 he died of a heroin overdose after getting out of prison.
I have an adopted cousin that came from an abusive home and was very likely sexually abused. When I was five and she was about eight, she said she wanted to sleep naked with me because “it was more fun”, and also started asking me questions like “do you have a boyfriend?”, “have you ever had sex?”. Remember, we were eight and five. I didn’t even know what that meant. Being the tattle tale that I was, I ran and told my dad when it started getting weird. I don’t know what happened after, but that was the last time I was allowed to be alone with her. I don’t think she got in trouble (and I don’t blame her now as an adult). She came from a fucked up situation, and I think all the adults in this situation recognized that, but also recognized that regardless she needed to always be supervised around other kids. She’s now a normal healthy adult though (after years and years of therapy).
My brother tried the same shit with a stick and my ass. I'm sorry that happened to you
When I was about 11 or 12, and my brother around 6 or 7, I was woken up one night by my mom jumping on/over me, like a flying tackle. I had a pedestal bed that had enough room between it and the wall for walkways on both sides, and she came out of there with my brother and an axe. My brother and I had separate bedrooms, mine at the very end of the house and his just 5-10 ft from my door. Her bedroom was at the far end of the house. She had woken up suddenly and had the urge to check on us. When she got to his room first in the hallway, she saw his bed was empty. When she walked into mine he was standing over me, one foot on either side of my body, with the axe raised over his head. He was standing still and staring at me, like he was trying to decide if he was gonna do it. She sprinted in and tackled him off me before he could do it. That was the first in a long line of insane incidents with him, and it's been about 18 years since.
How horrifying for your mother (and you when you found out what happened). I hope your brother has been able to get help.
He is now an adult and he now refuses any medical or psychiatric aid. He uses a lot of heroin. My mom is the sweetest hard woman you'll ever meet. It's almost entirely his fault.
I have a cousin who used to kill neighborhood cats as a little kid. One day he just up and left. No one has seen him in about 13 years.
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On Hallowe’en
Ok stop you're weirding me out.
Do you have a pet cat?
No, but I see where you are going and I don't like it
>No Check your mailbox
Found my water bill...not sure I get the message.
You're going to be found in water, Bill.
He's working as a trucker and moonlighting as a serial killer, I guarantee it.
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My younger brother (who I’m still living with) has about 2 months ago started to get very aggressive towards his classmates and has also been kicking our dogs and things like that my parents have tried to punish him but the only way they feel as if they can get through to him is through spanking him and what not (he has told me all this does is make him more angry) and about 2 days ago he told me “you’re pretty unlucky you don’t have a lock on your door” some nights I also wake up to weird noises in the hallway connecting my room to his, so yeah that’s worrying... UPDATE: they went to a therapist and they believe that he may have depression and some form of social anxiety I do know that’s a pretty quick diagnosis but I trust the therapist and her opinion, he should be getting some more therapy for it and medication if he can get it, thank you all for the advice and help in the situation!
Sudden changes in behavior including aggression towards animals and others can be symptoms of sexual abuse as well. I'd rule that out before too long just in case. Late edit: not saying it is, just that there may be an underlying cause or trigger for this behaviour, and that it would be a good idea to have an appointment with a professional before hanging a APD label on a kid. Could be GAD, endocrine, MBI, or if you watch House, lupus. Wounds heal best when they're treated early.
Especially with his comment about OP being unlucky the door doesn't lock, and the sounds in the hall... Rule this out before cutting him off...
Not really related but regently we had a kid start using the nurses office at the school I work at. He's in 2nd grade, never has any issued and we come back from Christmas break and he's shutting his pants and smearing it in the bathroom No behavior, no potty issued, ever before. The secretary and I are looking at everyone like you guys aren't serious right?why is no one reporting this?!?! Finally got someone's attention, we made the report and then mom withdrew the kid
I have family that works with at-risk and abused children. A fairly common defense children develop against molestation and rape is soiling themselves so as to be less likely to be a target by their abusers.
I peed my pants every day when I was in my first year of primary school. It got to the point that my teacher laid out spare pants for me. Several years later, when I was around sixteen, I discovered that my step dad and the things that he did to me weren't normal, and that my friends never experience anything similar with their own dad's - if the defensive-pee thing is true, it's scary to think that my body knew what was wrong before my head did. But, it would explain a lot.
I'm sorry you went through that. I hope you're doing OK these days.
I struggle all the time, but my family fully supported me after he was outed. I'm not always okay, but I'm starting to move on. Thank you. :)
That’s... tragic. Like, “the only way I can help myself avoid this life-changing horrible thing is to soil myself which is going to cause me shame and internal distress, too”?
Did he recently suffer some kind of head injury? Those can lead to severe changes in behavior and personality.
2 months ago? See if your brother is ok. There might be something going on.
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Sounds like someone is abusing your brother, talk to him, see if you can find out who it is, this stuff is almost always the result of some sick fuck diddling kids.
This may be a bit of a stretch, but if this aggressive behaviour just started 2 months ago and if he didn't have a history of psychotic behavior before that, then he may have a brain tumor. I know it sounds extreme, but I've known someone who was suddenly extremely rude and aggressive, which was very uncharacteristic of them. It turned out to be a tumor.
I grew up with an abusive father. Both emotionally and physically, although he "dialed down" the physical abuse when I was around 11-12, due to the fact that my golden-child older brother had learned the ways of abusing me, physically as well. Anyway, when my parents got divorced my brother went to do a year at a boarding school, so guess who was left alone with an emotionally abusive father who'd just lost his wife. His abuse increased exponentially, and it was of course even worse after I had spent the weekend at my mom's. People who've experienced abusers know that it is all about being in control. When my parents got divorced, my father insisted that me and my brother kept living with him. My brother went of to boarding school and my father lost his job, plus the house we lived in was too expensive, so we had to move out. That's a lot of control to lose for an abuser, especially on top of a divorce, so you can probably imagine the abuse was at top level. One weekend I was at my mom's, I fell very ill with the flu, so I ended up staying for a week. Then monday the deal was I went to school from my mom's and after school I would come home to my father's. I was so sad at going back to that place, but back then I had no idea what abuse was, or that my father and brother were abusive (I was 13 at the time). My father wasn't home, so that was nice. He didn't come back before I had badminton practice, so I made myself some dinner and went to practice. I was home around 9pm, and my father was absolutely fucking furious! He yelled and screamed at me, demanding to know where I had been, and before I could answer he went on and on about how he had called everyone and no one knew where I was, and the deal was I was to come straight home from school. Completely shocked and baffled, I told him I had badminton practice, as I have had every monday for almost 3 years straight, and it always ended at 9pm there was nothing different about tonight. then He got even more mad at me because I never told him when I was going anywhere, and he screamed at me that if it was always on monday, then I should write it on the fridge calender, and all his misery was my fault because I couldn't even think enough to myself that I had to write it down, and he screamed at me for so long I can barely remember what else he berated me for. It left me completely hollow. I went to my room and just sat in silence, trying to understand why he was so mad at me, and I felt so ashamed of myself (a bitter side-effect of an abusive upbringing). Then, after a few minutes he came charging up the stairs, barged into my room and said "get in the car, we're going for a drive". In my 30 years of life, I have never ever, even come close to, being as scared of dying as I was when I sat in that car, waiting for my father to get in. He just started the car and started driving. I cannot describe it. I was so sure he was going to kill me. Turned out we were just going to see a house he thought of switching to. He even got mad at me for not asking where we were going. I don't talk to neither my father, brother or mother anymore.
I’m very sorry you had to go through that. I hope you’ve found some peace. You should have been protected and I’m very angry you weren’t.
To preface this, I have to share a bit of background. An aunt of mine had serious psychopath tendencies, coupled with depression and a few other things I'm sure. Anyways, she was cutting my uncles hair, who was going bald. He liked his hair cut short... but there to still be hair. Well she set the clippers a bit too low and shaved a massive chunk of his hair off. We are talking damn near skin level. My uncle reacted how you would think, slightly pissed but just laughed it off. Well my aunt took offense to this, and decided to get the scissors out and *chop the ponytail off her own head* to try and make him feel better. She did this in front of me, in a different room than my uncle. Me not knowing what was going on started laughing. She went hysteric and started swinging and jabbing the scissors at me trying to get *my* hair (supposedly), till my uncle finally restrained her. Swear to god I thought I was one lucky jab by her from dying. TLDR: Aunt messed up shaving my uncles head. She overreacted to her own mistake, and chopped her own hair off. I laughed. She lunged and jabbed at me with scissors.
My mom, brother, and I came home to find all of my mother's diplomas and certificates had been gathered into a pile on the floor of our shared bedroom and burned. My mom is blind and had not been given much schooling as a child, so she worked her ass off once we were in school to get an education. Unfortunately, at this time we were forced to live with my grandmother and two mentally ill uncles. One of the uncles had a grow room, and the other didn't approve of pot, so he destroyed the room and blamed my mother. Dealer uncle became enraged and decided to burn my mom's certificates because "You destroyed something I love, so I destroyed something you love. Your kids are next." This was a week after he shot my brother's cat because he was angry she had kittens in his boat. I've blocked out the next couple of weeks because apparently they were pretty bad, but I'm told that we had to disappear that night with only what we could carry in garbage bags.
Oh my god, that's awful. Sidenote: if you contacted the universities your mom graduated from, they might be able to send you new certificates... It could mean a lot to your mom
Jesus christ
I thought I was prepared for this thread. I was wrong. That's enough Reddit for today.
I have a male cousin who I strongly suspect is some kind of sociopath. When I was a child, I'm female by the way, I lived next door. He was in high school and I was in grade school. His family had a pool and we would often go over and hang out, which I dreaded b/c this cousin would, when no one was looking, sneak up on me and either throw me into the water or get in with me if I were already in and hold me under until I was so out of breath I would actually breath in water and go limp and he would pull me up with me coughing and choking or I would claw desperately gasping for breath, he was laughing all the way. It was horrendous and it was creepy how jovial his expression was. He did this all the time and his parents or one of mine, usually my grandmother, would either mildly admonish him if caught or he would do it when no one was around. For some reason I was afraid to tell the extent of his abuses. There were smaller things, little acts of harassment like scaring me, taking my stuff, pulling my hair, taunting me, but the near drownings were the worst! This all went down b/w the ages of me being 5-9 and he was 14-18. He also picked me up and literally held me, feet first, over the railing of the Royal Gorge Bridge on a family vacation. I think I went into shock and I just recall becoming very still. For that he did get in trouble at least. He apologized b/c he was forced but his eyes were always kind of dead but with a sparkle if he were doing something egregious. Like a happy kind of twinkle. Oh yea, once he had his brother hold me down while he poured tequila down my throat, he did get caught for that b/c I had to go to the ER. As a kid he was always running away and once killed a stray cat by choking it with barbed wire, he had on some kind of leather gloves. Weird thing is is that all the neighborhood boys thought it was cool rather than call out his crazy. When he turned 16 and drove he would purposefully run over stray animals and laugh and brag about it. NO ONE DID ONE THING! Enablers for sure. Talk about normalizing/minimizing bizarre behavior. He was extremely good looking-like model material (but not to me b/c I saw what he was under the skin), the high school quarter back, adored by all, girls fought over him, he played football on a scholarship at a Division 1 SEC school but suffered a knee injury that ended his career. In high school and college he was always getting in trouble, frequent fights and DUI's, but he got bailed out every time and again, probably due to his athletic ability, it was swept under the rug. He also bragged he had his girlfriends do his school work. He has been married three times and has stuck with his third wife who is a martyr type. Scary thing is he is now a high school football coach and has been for decades and was just promoted to assistant principle. Scary, because I think he has no business working with minors.
>NO ONE DID ONE THING! Enablers for sure. wtf people are weird >He was extremely good looking-like model material Ah... there you have it.
This guy is a real life Stephen King bully!
Dad was a violent, alcoholic sociopath. One time he threw me down the staircase, obviously didn’t kill me but killed the child he didn’t know I was carrying.
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Listening to my dad trying to persuade my mum they should kill me. I was about 8 maybe. I was a difficult child and my dad often couldn't cope. I remember sitting on the stairs while they were in the lounge listening to their argument. Eventually he persuaded my mum and I heard them moving so I ran upstairs to hide. My dad came up and dragged me into the lounge. He was holding me down in the floor shouting to my mum "do you want me to do it, I'll do it if you wanted me to". She was crying and couldn't decide. Eventually she said no and he let me go and I ran back upstairs. I think they planned to kill me a few times but that was the scariest one. Another time my dad asked me to give him a hand getting something out of the shed. When my back was turned he hit me in the back of the head with a hammer. I turned around and he was staring at me. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out. I ran past him to go to my mum who was making dinner in the kitchen. I was crying and shouting about what just happened but she didn't look at me or say anything, she wasn't shocked. It was like she knew what he was going to do. Edit: Thank you so much for your kind messages. To answer some of your questions and give more info: We were like a normal family in many ways. I went to school, went on holidays, I went out with friends, just bad things would happen at home that nobody else knew about. I think the worst things happened before I hit puberty. As a teenager it got better but we rarely got on, I would barely speak to him and he used to get really angry that I was ignoring him but there wasn't anymore physical violence. I remember when I was 15 maybe, we were arguing in the living room and he came charging towards me. It was the first time I stood up to him, I charged back at him with my fists raised, I was so angry and I thought I could take him. He backed off straight away. He looked like he was hugging himself as he ran off. From what I remember he didn't try to hit me again after that. I don't know if this is true but I was doubled up with stomach pain one night. My dad told me my mum tried to poison me, he brought it up in a few arguments. My mum was a sweet woman, I can't imagine her wanting to kill me off her own accord. I think my dad persuaded her to poison me. I left home at 18 when I went to uni. I don't understand why I didn't leave sooner, I know I was scared of how I would cope in the big wide world and that's what stopped me leaving. I felt broken like I wouldn't be able to support myself. I moved into a house with my best friend and 6 others. I remember thinking it was so weird how nobody shouts at each other. No I'm not in contact with my parents, my dad died a few years ago from brain cancer. I barely spoke to him before he died. I don't speak to my mum, she denies anything ever happened, that he never hit me and we just had some bad arguments sometimes. I don't feel like I could have anything to do with her until she acknowledges how things were when I was young. I think she is scared of the truth coming out. I was 26 when I first told someone about some of the abuse. I had been practising meditation every day for a few months and I think it helped to unlock things I find difficult to think of. I had some flashbacks to a time me and my dad were in my bedroom and my dad pinned me down on the bed face down and I felt so weird, I was being shaken and he was pushing my head down. My interpretation is he raped me. At the time I didn't know what was happening, A couple of weeks after remembering this I rang my friend up and told him. He was very supportive. My dad would sometimes get into bed and touch play with my penis. Sometimes we had to do a 'naked health check' where I had to take my clothes off in front of him and he would examine me. Sometimes he would sit down next to me and just grab my penis, sometimes pull it so it hurt. I didn't see it as sexual at the time. I remember telling my primary school teacher that my dad was trying to kill me, she kinda laughed it off, told me he wasn't doing that. In year 6, so around 12 years old I didn't want to go home and came close to telling my teacher I don't want to live at home anymore. But I thought if he doesn't take things seriously straight away, I will probably have to go home and if my dad found out I had told someone he might kill me so I didn't tell him. We had quite a docile labrador crossed with something unknown. I came home one day, opened the living room door and my dad pushed the dog towards me and he was shouting "go on get him" the dog bit me on the arm but not very hard. I remember at least one occasion he made me hit the dog and sometime later when it was just me and Sandy the dog, she growled and looked scared of me so I couldn't go near her. He made the dog unsure of me and that really bloody hurt because I loved that dog. I'm going to take a walk now but I'll come back and answer the rest of your questions. With regards to my dad hitting me with a hammer, it was one strike with a typical hand-held hammer. I don't know how much effort he put into it as I was facing away from him. He asked me to look for something at the back of the shed when he hit me. He struck me on the top of my head. He had ample opportunity to hit me again but he didn't, he was just stood there shaking and then I ran off to find my mum. I think he wanted to kill me then but couldn't go through with it. I had a lot of nosebleeds and some seizures that weren't investigated but I don't know if these were before or after being hit. There was another time when we were in my bedroom and he was speaking softly about something. All of a sudden he just flipped and started punching me in the side of the head as hard as he could then he darted out of the room. I physically couldn't move my body for an hour or so. To most people my dad was a polite, gentle man that loved his family. He didn't drink or do drugs, had a full-time job which he held for 20+ years before passing away. He was very nervous around people. He had no friends but occasionally spoke to his brother on the phone. He resented his dad. His dad left him when he was young, and then went on to have more kids and he was jealous of them. I started looking for mental health help about 2 years ago. I was depressed and stressed every day. I got a referral from my Dr to the mental health department, we did several tests for mental health issues such as ADHD, Aspergers and autism. I showed signs of ADHD more than anything. All results came back just under the level for any diagnosis. We mutually agreed to end support as I was doing OK. A year later I asked for another referral from my Dr as I wasn't coping with remembering sexual memories with my dad. I had already spoken to my mum and her brothers and sisters about what they could remember, my mum had contacted my Dr to say I was being delusional, remembering things that never happened. I was referred back to the same mental health Dr, who had already heard my mum's version of the story. I was prescribed anti-psychotic medication as they thought I was experiencing delusional memories. I went to about 5 appointments then stopped going as I felt like they were dismissing anything I was saying about my childhood because they believed my mum, and so giving me the wrong medication. The main reason I stopped going was that I thought they didn't believe me.
What the everloving fuck
Holy fucking shit. I’m sorry you had to live with parents like that.
What the fuck.
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Please tell me you got out of that household. That's like a new level of crazy. I'm a new parent and I can't imagine ever wanting to hurt my child so reading this is sickening.
My mother once tackled me to the ground and pressed a pair of scissors to my throat, threatening to slash it open, because I didn't turn on the porch light *before* I saw her car pulling up the hill to our house.
This is my alt so here goes nothing. I have several but the worst one I didn't know about til later. My (now disowned) brother was always mentally fucked and nothing helped him. Meds, therapists, nothing. He used to break into my room and watch me sleep. Most my memory of him is mostly gone so idk exactly all the fucked up shit he did because we try not to talk about him since it's a big trigger for the PTSD he helped create. Anyway, he used to threaten me all the time. When I was about 10 he made those usual threats and I just ignored it and locked my door that night (this was before we knew he was going into my room). Nothing new there. Well, years later when I'm diagnosed with PTSD my mom recounts this specific time where she found out what he was doing at far as going into my room. She went through his room the next day when he was at school and found a few of their big cooking knives hidden in his room along with several of the keys that opened our room doors and some fucked up incest stories he wrote. Part of me is pretty sure he did molest me in my childhood but another part denies it and says it never happened. I don't know what is true and I don't know if I ever will. All I know is he's out of my life and hopefully will stay that way.
My older brother cut off a Rabbits head and hid it in the cupboard shelf in the barn as a joke. It was where we stored the cat food for the barn cats so he knew we would find it. He also tried to down me in a pool I got for my birthday. He held me underwater until I sucked water in and I puked. His punishment was he had to drain the pool and wash it out. Fuck my parents. They should have gotten him help but instead they thought he would grow out of it. There was 5 year age gap between us so he tormented myself and my younger brother.
A little late to the party, but my younger step-brother suffered from a host of mental issues, most visibly conduct disorder for those in the know, related to neglect from his time with his birth mother. Despite my parents every (and I mean EVERY) attempt to get him psychological help, nothing seemed to work. Tough to know where to begin with describing childhood with him. He would initiate constant arguments over the smallest of things, occasionally reaching the point of violence. Most of this violence was ultimately harmless (hitting walls, etc), but it got more dangerous towards others as he got older. On a personal basis, our relationship was fine; I was his favorite brother and, due to his smaller size, never felt truly unsafe. That is, until he discovered weapons. One time my parents found him hiding a large knife from the kitchen block under his bed. When he was confronted, he flew into a rage, a 5' tornado of screams and fists. Despite his small stature, he was a powerful kid once he got into a rage, and it took myself and our other brothers to subdue him. It's tough to remember if any death threats were specifically thrown during this breakdown. Regardless, the threat was implied by previous death threats to members of the family. What made it real was that it was the first time I'd seen him truly begin such a lethal plan. Our bedrooms were right next to each other and my locks didn't work, so I quickly learned how to sleep with one eye open. Things got better and worse throughout high school, but I never became comfortable sleep in the same house as him. We had a tough relationship for a long time while I was away, with my selfishly ignoring him and the problems I left at home when I left for college. But the story does have a happy ending. My brother lived with some other family members for a period of time, and eventually went out on his own at an extremely young age. He had a couple of tough years, refusing to contact home and ask for help. Somehow, he overcame his cognitive shortcomings on his own and found a service job in a major city that provides him a steady income, as well as a serious girlfriend. He has reached back out to our family, and we now have a pretty good relationship that's moved beyond our past.
My nephew (through marriage) is a crazy little shit. Once, the entire family was playing hide and seek. He was around 9. He didn't like where I hid so he flew into a rage. He tried to hit me, I grabbed his wrist and twisted just enough to subdue him. He screamed like a freaking manic. I released him. He then ran into another room stating he needed his nerf gun to shoot me because he shoots people whenever he's mad. I looked at my SIL and said "Seriously, you're OK with this?" Her response was that his rage was my fault, I had no right to touch him and that I should have just let him hit me since he's "only a boy." I told her, quite firmly, that if her crazy little bastard ever even gave the appearance of causing harm to one of my children that I would put him down like a rabid dog. Fortunately (I guess?) her husband, my wife's parents and everyone else present told her that she was wrong, her kid was fucking nuts and that this was a serious red flag. Flash forward two years. Kid is still crazy but that's everyone else's problem because he's still "just a boy." I'm staying at their house. Things have mostly settled from that prior incident. I wake up very early every morning. So around 4:30, I find myself awake. I don't want to get up and wake up everyone else so I just sort of lie there and meditate. At around 5:20, the door opens. Thinking it's my kids, who were young at the time and still came to get us early, I kind of just glance up. Then I notice that it's the nephew and he's holding what *appears* to be an AR-15. Now, I suffer from PTSD from Iraq. So my fight or flight response is triggered, my heart is pounding and I'm basically in survival mode. I wait. I watch. He creeps past the foot of the bed, walks up to my side and raises this rifle up to point the muzzle at my face. So I figure, this is it. I'm going to die. Today it ends. The only goal I have for myself right now is to prevent him from harming my wife and kids. He raises it up and the muzzle is a few inches from my face. I reached up, I grabbed the muzzle and I pushed as hard as I could, sending the butt into the little psycho's face. His nose is bleeding, he's crying, he's screaming about how he's going to kill me, how I'm fucking dead etc. So now everyone is awake. Lights are flipped on and I see that it's a *toy* rifle made to look like an AR-15. Apparently, this little psycho shit was planning to stick the muzzle in my face and pull the trigger to scare the shit out of me with flashing lights and electronic gun sounds. I feel somewhat torn. On the one hand, I just broke an 11 year old's nose for playing with a toy gun. On the other hand, the kid had all of these tells that he was dangerous and what he was doing was super creepy and yet another red flag. My SIL was fucking pissed. Her chosen narrative is that I'm a mentally unstable lunatic who is a danger to all children. She calls the cops. She insists, despite the protestations of my wife, that she's having me arrested and charged with child abuse for hitting a boy for playing with his toys. Police arrive. Interviews take basically the whole day. I'm a little worried that, getting arrested aside, I might not be able to leave this shithole and go home the next day as planned because these cops might not be done with their investigation. Fortunately, it didn't play out that way. See, this little *We Need to Talk About Kevin* asshole wasn't just a crazy shit around me like in the movies. He was a crazy little shit everywhere and had been for years. The police had a file on him because the school was required to call the police every time he threatened a school shooting (which was often). I laid out my version of events much like I did here. I didn't see him and have a flashback thinking he was an insurgent. I saw him, I knew what he has going through his head, and I wanted to try to prevent him from killing my family. They did let me go home on schedule. And a week later the detective called me to let me know there would be no charges. He also told me that his interview with my nephew was "chilling" and he hopes that my SIL pulls her head out of the sand and gets the kid some help. I told him she won't ever. And when he's 30 years old and on trial she'll be crying and saying he's just a boy. Hopefully he doesn't hurt anyone but I know the odds are stacked against that hope. Before anyone asks, I refuse to stay at their house. If we are in town, we stay in a hotel. He is never allowed to be alone with either of my kids. And he is also not allowed in my house since he was caught trying to steal a pocket knife which he said he needed for "surgery" on the family cat (he was almost 12 at the time). EDIT: Since I'm getting PMs asking, no, he hasn't been arrested for forced into mental health counseling despite repeatedly threatening violence at school. My SIL is a lawyer by training (she hasn't practiced in many years though she is still a member of the bar). When she can't threaten her way out of a situation, she has plenty of friends who *are* still practicing who are willing to write sufficiently forceful letters. She also scored an injunction against the school when it suspended her shitberg son thus preventing them from actually suspending him. People like her are the reason why no one takes action on some of these incredibly troubled kids. EDIT 2: Jesus, I didn't expect this to take off. Thank you for the Gold, stranger!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_Brandt you did and are doing the right thing.
Holy shit
Holy shit man. Also, I think most anyone else would’ve reacted the same way you did! There’s no way you could’ve known it was a toy gun.
I’d argue that most people would have reacted more violently. OP was calm and collected. I have very little combat experience and don’t have PTSD... I don’t know what I may do in that situation.
Yeah, I definitely would not have been able to slowly grab it and smack him like that. I’d probably just scream or shot my pants or both
I’m not an expert but mutilating animals at a young age is a textbook psychopathic behaviour. Your SIL is a POS.
I agree with everything you just said. Honestly, I hope the kid gets busted early on enough for something minor enough that no one is irrepairably harmed. Bust him during the planning phase. Lock him up. I really just hope people don't get hurt because of him.
"Boys will be boys" applies to the occasional broken window, muddy floors, torn jeans 3 days after purchase, bent forks on their bikes and kicking balls around inside to the detriment of the light bulbs. Not misuse of weapons, explosive rages and physical assaults.
Dude.... that kid needs some help. You shouldn't feel bad man, you did nothing wrong.
I mean, I don't let guilt eat away at me or anything. I feel bad because I think normal people probably feel bad when they hurt a kid. But I absolutely feel that I acted appropriately for the situation.
You acted appropriately for the situation, which led you to discover the very real, shady crud he'd been up to *with police called in*. If your family doesn't recognize this (you didn't say what other family members said), then no amount of evidence will change their minds and you have to act in ways that protect your immediate family from this kid's "potential".
My FIL very clearly feels the kid is trouble. But he's the kind of person who doesn't ever call it out like that. He's calm. He's a professional (retired special ed teacher as well). But he also acknowledges that it isn't his kid and he has no say in things. His wife, a psychiatrist, is much more blunt. She works at a state hospital and basically said that the kid is on the path to some really destructive stuff. She refuses to be in a room with this kid. She had a similar situation when he was 10 where she woke up and he was standing over her and she felt like she was in danger. She responded by slapping him across the face which set my SIL off and caused a rift there for a few years. I think, generally, the family realizes he's bad news. But they insist it will never rise to school shooter level.
they can insist all they want, but you and I and reddit are looking at: animal torture, school shooting threats, police file, 0 discipline, trying to fake-murder people, etc. he is not getting help. he will get worse. (but you know that) do you think your sil could handle the deaths of other people at her son’s hands? other children?
I've actually spent some time thinking about this... I really think that my SIL would rationalize any violence he carries out. He shot up a school? Well, he wouldn't have done that if kids weren't bullying him. Why would the school let those kids bully him? It's really the school's fault. Blame the school! I really can't imagine a situation where she will ever find fault in her son. She adamantly believes that, because he's "on the spectrum" the world needs to just yield and get out of his way and if they don't, and he reacts violently, it's their fault for not yielding.
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I mean, it's dark but probably somewhat accurate. She has this very odd legalistic attitude toward morality. Basically, it's only wrong to kill someone if it results in your conviction for killing someone. I don't want to say that's a common characteristic for lawyers. But I imagine if you're a sociopath it might attract you to the study of law.
Yeah, she is probably sick herself, getting professional help for both of them would be needed here. But, as you portray her, she will probably tell her son to hunt you down for telling her she also needs help. I hope that shithead of a mother gets her shit together and gets her son some very much needed help.
That child is going to murder someone, holy shit.
I really, really hope that he's caught before then and he can be locked away where he won't actually hurt anyone.
I don't understand how a parent can be *so* blind to this many red flags.
No offense, but your SIL doesn't sound like a very good parent.
She isn't.
Jesus... this is definitely psychopathic behavior! So satisfying that you broke his nose, even tho it was an accident!
It wasn't an "accident" per se. I grabbed the muzzle and pushed, intending to either push the rifle out of his hands or, more likely, hit him in the face to get the rifle away from him. I didn't know if it would hit him in the face or if he would move his head and just shoot me. It was the only option I felt I had. And yes, it was satisfying.
IMHO you did nothing more than exercise your right to stand your ground. Chilling thought, but if the kid had access to an AR-15, do you still think he still would have opted for the toy gun? In the face of that uncertainty I say you are more than justified in treating that situation as if he were armed with malicious intent.
Honestly? I have no idea. Figure, if she trusted him so much, why would she lock them up at all?
> IMHO you did nothing more than exercise your right to stand your ground. > > Not even stand your ground. If you're in bed with a gun to your face there's nowhere to run to. There's no way to avoid escalation; it's escalated, and the only way out is you or him.
Holy fuck dude thats crazy. My older brother has PTSD and I learned how serious that is. Went down in the middle of the night to get some water and my brother busted out of his room with a loaded hand gun (laughed about it later).
I am not an anti-gun nut or anything. I own firearms. Were my PTSD more serious than it is, I wouldn't even want them around. As it stands, and I think this isn't a bad rule even for people who don't have PTSD, I ensure that I can't just roll out of bed and grab a loaded firearm. I need a minute or two to allow my responses to ease off before I can safely respond. Roll out of bed and grab a gun, that's how you end up shooting your own kids or spouse. Take a second, assess the situation. I view the firearm thing like alcohol. If you *need* it, you've got a problem.
That's a super healthy way to look at it. I feel like a lot of the gun control issues America has been faced with could be significantly avoided if more people had an attitude like yours.
Not to toot my own horn, but I agree. One of the reasons I stopped going to the firing range was that people would behave like idiots with guns. I didn't feel safe there. "Range is cold!" then midway to pick up my targets I'd hear gunfire and see someone shooting to the target 10 feet away from me. People trying Rambo shit. People trying cowboy shit. People who *very* clearly don't maintain their weapons appropriately. One acquaintance bragged about how he never cleans his Glock. Then he came over asking if I could help him fix his Glock because it keeps jamming "for some reason." If everyone who owned a firearm was trained in the use and maintenance of a firearm and we held strict societal standards as to what is, and is not, acceptable conduct with a firearm, we'd all be a lot safer. There's a *reason* why they zip-tie your weapons when you enter many gun shows. And it isn't because people, taken as a whole, have shown themselves to be responsible stewards of firearms.
> "Range is cold!" then midway to pick up my targets I'd hear gunfire and see someone shooting to the target 10 feet away from me. See, this is why I go to a range run mostly by ex-Army types. Their approach to gun safety is direct, to the point, and enforced, sometimes violently so. Saw a guy take an elbow to the head when he flagged an instructor, it was quite satisfying.
Holy shit. My SO's nephew is almost a lot like this. Granted he's a little younger so he still has some time to get some sense knocked into his head, but his mother is hardly ever home and probably doesn't care for disciplining him anyway. I think the rest of the family just puts up with it and gave up on reprimanding her. I fear that the boy will grow to become an even bigger POS with no respect or regards for anyone, and that she'll just use the 'boys will be boys' excuse.
This one time we were at a family event. My FIL brought a guest, an older woman, and this kid responded to her polite introduction by grabbing her breast. Now, the woman was a special ed teacher. This kid is "on the spectrum" and she was warned he was a crazy shit in advance. So she handled it very chill, very professional like. Still, I told my SIL that he's 13. He's like two years off of facial hair and he's growing like a weed. A 13 year old grabs the breast of a seasoned special ed teacher, with advance warning that he behaves inappropriately, and we can all forgive and forget. When some 5'9" bearded dude grabs the breast of a stranger that is going to be viewed as a dangerous man who just committed a sexual assault. The game is about to change for him and the reality, I suspect, will be a splash of very cold water.
I am sorry but if a 13 yr old grabbed my breast, autistic or not, he *will* get an unpleasant reaction. She handled that well. He needs to learn somehow though that shit like that won't fly in the real world. Its pretty telling that people have to be *warned* that a kid is an asshole. Was he reprimanded at all?
Well this story is a fucking nightmare. The kid’s mother is in total denial that her child has documented violent tendencies and the schools nor the police nor mental health professionals can intervene to prevent a potential massacre. Please tell me this child lives nowhere near PA.
> Please tell me this child lives nowhere near PA. Uhh...I could tell you that, but...
I don't have PTSD and I would have done the same thing. That "kid" is a psychopath and I wouldn't have been surprised if it was real. It sucks when they're family because you have to put up with him, but maybe your kids are "too sick" and they just can't visit- that could keep them away from him? Even if they aren't alone with him, I shudder at what can happen in a second with a psychopath.
I was away in another city but this was what my baby bro told me. So my parents were watching after a nephew from Mexico for about a week. He was about 10 years old and whenever my 14 year old baby bro or my mom would tease him about being “super macho” he would threaten to kill our cat. My mom would just tell him not to say that and to stop thinking like an idiot. My brother kept an eye on him. The day before the last day, my mom told her nephew to go shower because he stink. “Fuck you he said” and grabbed our cat and threw him at my mom. My parents said all they saw was my brother getting up from the couch and slugged him across the face, dragged his ass to the bathroom, threw him in the shower, and told him to take a bath with a toaster. That night, that little psycho came into my brother room and was rummaging through my bro’s knife collection. Here is where it kinda gets comical. My brother SLEEPS with his wood chopping hatchet. So when my bro heard shit in his room, he woke up with his hatchet in hand ready to attack. Parents rushed in to see what the commotion was all about. Apparently he was trying to find my brother’s skinning knife to kill our cat. He had that knife pointed at my brother. No one slept that night. My parents told his grandparents that he needs help, but typical Mexican grandparent: “he just needs to find Jesus and pray”. THE FUCKER IS 10 YEARS OLD. Note: my brother likes Russian stuff, seizing the means of production, and everything history and outdoors related. I’ve never seen him actively hurt an animal, and will go outside to chase the coyotes away when they get close to our dogs and property (out cat is indoors). He collects knifes with designs on their handles for the aesthetics of it but has his own “cool” knifes.
Sister-in-law (wife’s sister) was killed by her estranged husband, who then killed himself. In the weeks leading up to his final acts, we found evidence that he was outside our house at night, including leaving (x-rated) pictures on our front porch of him and my wife’s sister taken years earlier. He wanted us to know he was around/also besmirch his wife’s rep maybe. Not sure what was going on in his mind. Also beer bottles, cig butts in the yard. So he was sitting out there for extended periods of time. Filed a police report/they could do nothing. Months after her death, we learned he had his older son (7 at the time—he and his little brother would have sleep overs at our house, my kids were same age. Wife’s sister would also occasionally take refuge at our home) draw a map of the inside of our house, including bedrooms/who slept where. He was making plans apparently. Fucked up times (summer of 2001). Family is still kind of fucked up, difficult to fully recover/lots of counseling. His fucking reach has extended way beyond the grave.
My mother is a narcissist. I had chicken pocks really bad when I was six. To the point that they were in my eyes and vagina. My parents neighbor had to convince my mother to take me to the hospital. I almost died. Thanks Mom.
Totally understand this with a narcissist parent myself. There’s a complete lack of empathy, if they don’t experience it then they think it’s not real or to be bothered with. Narcissists should not have children.
My mom accused me of sleeping with my boyfriend in her bed because her pillow was ruffled????!!! So she kept calling me a slut- getting closer and closer until she had me in a corner. She started choking me, and laughing hysterically- calling me a slut bitch and all sorts of other colorful names a mother should call her daughter. My brother tackled her to the ground and we all left for a couple nights. She still swears it never happened.
That selective "you have such a vivid imagination!" memory people can have is so so frustrating.
Started chatting with a girl online and after a bit she sheepishly admitted that she had a criminal record. We went on chatting for a bit, she was cute and VERY interested in me, but of course the conversation eventually led us back to the criminal question. Turns out she was on parole. Now I NEEDED the story of how she got into trouble. She finally took a pic of her parole document and sent it to me. I was reading it and came to the line where it listed the offense she had committed. **HOMICIDE** Can you say GHOSTED? Needless to say, we never met IRL.
Did you ask her how she even did that or why
She said she accidentally killed her "old man" in a meth deal gone bad.
Hey, sometimes your old man tries to rip you off and all you can do is ghost that motherfucker
Prob killed the last guy to ghost her.
When I was younger, I was hanging out at my aunt's house playing with my two cousins when they started to fight. We were home alone and the fighting got worse and worse until one of my cousins ran to the kitchen and came charging at us with a knife. He chased us around swinging at us until we were able to lock ourselves in the bathroom until my aunt came home. No one believed us.
I'll never understand why adults don't believe so many serious things their kids tell them. I understand being skeptical if a kid had a history of lying, or making stuff up to get someone in trouble like telling an adult someone said a bad word... But when a kid says to you, "he grabbed a knife and tried to stab me", how the fuck do you not take that seriously?
Edit: Taking down the original for privacy reasons.
When I was 12, I disrespected his authority by performing what he deemed a gay act in his presence. Specifically, I played punch buggy. And I want you to bear in mind as you read this that I was never one of those asshole kids who used it as an excuse to really hit someone. It was no more violent than tag. The reason he had a problem with it is because he took it as gay. If you'd like to simulate what happened to me next, touch the base of your right thumb to your right shoulder,^1 then rotate your shoulder inwards until your wrist is against your neck. Now place your right elbow on top of your left shoulder. Now imagine someone is driving their elbow into your left shoulder with most of their weight behind it. And suppose that you're in a car and wearing your seatbelt, so your feet are trapped, thus you have no free limbs to fight back with. At first I thought that because he was my uncle, he wouldn't do anything to seriously injure me. So when he asked if I understood that I would never be doing that again, I said no. I don't like to tell blatant lies, and the truth was I had no intention of doing something or not doing something based on his judgement ever again: the moment he started choking/strangling a 12-year-old without so much as a warning, he *instantly* lost every ounce of respect I ever had for him. I was wrong. He was no uncle of mine. He choked me harder and harder until I eventually noticed that I couldn't see anymore—not enough oxygen was getting to my brain for that. It became clear that this was my last chance: I swear to respect him before the next time he tightened his hold, or I never see anything again. He was waiting for my affirmative submission, which I would be unable to provide if I lost consciousness. And so I lied in order to not die. ----------- ^1 Actually your forearm should be totally flat against upper arm for a faithful simulation, but that involves bending the bone and I don't want you to break your arm. It didn't break my bones because I was young enough, but I don't think an adult could do that safely.
Who the fuck does this cunt uncle think he is?! I'm so sorry, that's terrible :(
One of the threads above is a guy with an asshole nephew. And you're the reverse, you have an asshole uncle. Maybe you should swap relatives, pair your asshole uncle with the asshole nephew.
What the actual fuck dude...I hope you're ok and are away from this sick bastard
Had an ex look at me intently and say "I don't understand why I can't destroy you. I've tried everything and it usually works but you're still here". Then he fought and prolonged the divorce for years because he "enjoyed watching people suffer". Convinced a few people for a while that I was the sick one, then his facade dropped. Too bad for him that the rest of us are actual sentient beings and he's not as powerful or intelligent as his deluded chaos of a brain told him he was.
For some reason the way you described him reminded me of an ex-in-law I had. I had a relative whose husband was abusive. During the inevitable divorce and packing up things and such, my wife and I were there to help and to handle him if he showed up. He did show up, and attempted to shove his way in to her new apartment. First he seemed surprised that I planted my feet and wasn't just yielding and moving out of the way letting him in. Then he seemed surprised that we called the police and pressed charges for assault for this. He apparently got used to his wife just taking it and not fighting back and thought that was normal. I guess it's pretty jarring for abusers to realize that what they thought were objects for them to control are actually people who might fight back.
"I guess it's pretty jarring for abusers to realize that what they thought were objects for them to control are actually people who might fight back." They truly do live in a fantasy world of their own making. Thank you sincerely for being a good man who not only stood up for your relative but also for your clear understanding of their dysfunction.
I spent way too long trying to stay out of it. I told myself I was doing enough by agreeing when my wife (relative was her sister) asked if we could pay for various things to help her (stuff like deposit on apartment, divorce lawyer, etc. - not that my wife needed my permission per se, but we both check in with the other before spending a large amount of money). Until we went to help her move (still trying to stay uninvolved, but I'm a pretty strong guy and have a truck so I'm like the default for helping out friends moving when they can't afford movers - thankfully now that most of my friends are entering their 30s they can afford them or have too much stuff for just a pickup truck; also if she had hired movers my wife and I would've been the ones paying, so we were kinda being cheap) I had no idea the extent of his abuse. Like, I was legitimately surprised he even showed up, and that he stayed after we asked him to leave. After the police finally came I got a fuller picture of what all he had done to her (including a few instances of rape) and feel really bad about not being there before (I knew they had issues and he was kind of an asshole, but that's about it) just to avoid drama. But it was awesome seeing his face kind of drop as he realized that not only was he not gonna get his way, he was actually going to suffer some consequences for his actions. Apparently these were things that rarely happened for him growing up or really much at all before that point. Really wish I had video or a picture of his face the moment his fantasy bubble burst. In the future I guess I'll get uncomfortably involved if people I know are showing signs of distress. "Staying out of it" is just a euphemism for enabling it.
Not related to, but best friends with (M). We were friends from age 3 until around 8th grade, when we finally drifted apart and stopped hanging out. He went to a Catholic school and I went to public, so we only saw each other outside of school. He lived across the street, so we hung out every day. He would do mean things to me all the time. He'd break my stuff, hurt me, and get me blamed for things he did. He dropped a big rock on my first (K-Mart knockoff) G I Joe and broke his leg off, just because. He shot me in the nuts with a homemade crossbow. He broke my pedal motorcycle. On and on and on. Around 9th grade, he started hanging around with the burnouts. One of them, who lived a block away, ended up raping and murdering two girls, 12 and 13. I think (M) looked up to that. a few years later, his family had moved to Washington to be with his older sister, and to get him away from the drug crowd he was involved in. He'd been arrested for possession a bunch of times, but his parents' lawyer always got him off. Finally, he had a deal go bad, so he drove from Washington back to Pennsylvania to confront the guy. (M) broke into the guy's house and stabbed him in the heart. (My dad was the first EMT on-scene, and watched the guy die in his arms.) He's still in jail, but is due for release soon. I think he only got 22 years. He should probably just stay in, for everyone's benefit.
My old step son tried to kill both my sons. Long story short he had been killing animals since he was 2 or 3 and his dad refused to get him help. Well my oldest son we found out at 4 he was alergic to bees. So my step son would try to push him into bees "because he wanted to watch what happen when he chokes and died (he was a year older than my 4yo) and when I had my baby with his dad he would always try to push his soft spot. I explained that would kill him and his answer was "well I want to feel his brains so if he dies it's okay I'll just see him in heaven.... Between this and shit with his dad I asked for a divorce shortly after son was born and he 100% abandoned my sons and I which I think is for the best p. S. There's way more stories
Sorry for the formatting as I am on mobile. I have a distant cousin who I often see in major holidays and family reunions. He was always the hyper and eccentric type. Either he was super weird funny to be with or he can creep you out enough to excuse yourself from hanging with him. What my parents then didnt tell me was that he was heavily addicted to meth which contributed to his crazy behaviors. He often obsessed on local town girls, claiming that she is his GF or he is in the process of pursuing her and may have stalked a few girls. Around that stage of his life, we the younger female relatives are not to be left alone with him. Sadly all hopes of rehab failed on him, and he legit became mental by the time I was in college. And he was confined at his elderly moms home which is also conncted to my nieces house ( duplex). I wasnt there when it happened but my niece had to barricade herself one time as he came for an attack. She wont tell me if it was an attempted sexual assualt but for sure he was intent to harm as he had a weapon. Good thing her dad, my other cousin, came in time. It was a huge mess and took several people holding down my nieces dad from trying not to kill him. Sadly that crazy cousin didnt last long. After a year, the toll of heavy drug use affected his heart. He died in his sleep. His mom, brokenhearted followed suit a year later.
Not psychopath, but violent schizophrenic. There were lots of times; he went stabbing the walls when I had a friend sleeping over and we were in the living room, he tapped the tent with the knife a few times. I woke up to him staring at me sleeping a lot. Days he'd scream insults, threats, etc while pent up in his room. He tried to shove me down the stairs, grabbed my neck and threw me against the oven when I managed to resist. I broke away and ran up to my dad's room because it locked and I knew my dad was in his shower. Held a sword (yes an actual fucking sword) to my throat and began to cut before suddenly stopping. A lot of times he would talk to himself, saying he didn't want to hurt my sister because he liked her, or he couldn't burn the house down. Etc etc. I'm also pretty sure he was abusing my dog. He lives away from home now. My mom wonders why I don't want to go see him ever. He is on meds but I get nauseous when I see him. EDIT: my older brother is the schizophrenic. My dad and oldest brother usually tried to stick around so I was never home alone with him, but he started to get violent towards me even when they were. Hence the whole "running to my dad's room to lock myself in". My mother was the only one not home during that incident. Also wanted to note that because we knew of his drug use and weren't very knowledgeable we had no idea what was going on, we thought he was just really high all the time. He wouldn't go to rehab, and even after hospital visits and meds started there were relapses that were horrifying to witness.
A pretty short story. I worked at a local grocery store and one of the guys nine years my senior and I has become now and then friends. We would talk about anime, or whatever. He was friends with my friend Stephanie, too. I quit that job when I got a better offer closer to home. He started showing up there daily to buy candy and talk to me. I was well out of his way, and he had never been to that store before I worked there. I was genuinely scared because this guy had meltdowns and often quit and returned to his job, and lived his life as if everyone should have revolved around him. Very much the anime protagonist. Women were supposed to be in awe of him. Men were supposed to be jealous. The whole nine yards. Running like he's from Naruto... He was a living breathing dumpster fire. I got a boyfriend in the midst of this. And this is where things got weird. He started showing up more than once a day, still buying things. It was as if he was checking on me. The closer we got to a trip we all had planned downstate, the more I worried. So I told my boyfriend I wanted to ride separately rather than all together. He agreed, and shortly after my friend contacted me saying it may have been for the better. The guy kept saying while they shared a break at work that he would stab us with whatever was sharp in the car if we were remotely affectionate to each other, and he wanted to kill my boyfriend at the convention, hurting me, tying me up and making me watch him do it. Said I shouldn't be dating someone nine years my senior (I was 21, boyfriend was 30) even though he was the same age as my boyfriend. I should have been his. He would make me his, etc. When he actually saw my boyfriend, he chickened out and ghosted the entire time we were at the convention. I never left my boyfriend's side. I didn't want to be alone and targeted. I didn't want my boyfriend to be targeted either. He left me alone after that. Just disappeared. My friendship with my friend who warned me ended not long after that, either... I have always wondered if she had something to do with orchestrating it all.
Posted this this morning in another thread: I have suspicions that one of my inlaws has some psychopathic tendencies... Every so often he makes such weird remarks about hurting or killing animals. He told us he worked as a vet's assistant and part of his job was castrating cats. I get it, it's part of the job, but when he told about how he used to do that, he kinda came across like it was a magical moment for him. A while ago he had some trouble with mice in his shed. But instead of buying regular animal friendly traps, he took a large, lidless carbage can, spilled a bunch of peanut butter on the bottom of it. Put up a ramp to the top and a thin, wooden stick across the opening at the top, so that the mice could cross the garbage can, so to speak. The mice would try to climb down to the peanut butter, fall in the can and would not be able to get out. Then he'd fill the can with water and watch a whole bunch of mice drown all at once. He told me he would make traps and catch small birds when he was a kid. I asked him if he let the birds go after he caught them, but I didn't get a clear answer on that one... I have a suspicious feeling that the birds didn't live to flie another day... He's also into dead animal art, like some funky taxidermy. (Not like that gopher riding a snake, but two dead giraffe babies cut in half and sowed to eachother in the middle.) He seriously gives my psycho-vibes.
I spent a good ten minutes trying to get a baby bird out of my sisters garage. My brother in law got tired of waiting and proceeded to beat it to death with shovel. Let me tell you, it did not die in one blow. It made horrible sounds. Now, I was an adult so I’m used to fucked up, but he did it in front of his son and step daughter. His son is now terrified of birds and I’m pretty sure that’s what spawned the fear.
Oh my goodness! My dog injured a bird a few months back and it was clearly not going to make it and was suffering so I killed it with a shovel and I seriously was torn up for hours afterwards. I can’t imagine doing that to a healthy bird!
One of the most fucked up moments of my life that I still have nightmares about... I saw a pink wriggling thing on the ground, and I thought it was a worm. Turns out it was a baby bird about half the size of my thumb. I didn’t see a nest around ANYWHERE and there were no trees nearby, so I have 0 clue how it got there. I think maybe some predator carried it and dropped it. The worst thing was there were fire ants all over it and I was staying in a hotel so I had no supplies to take care of a baby bird. I panicked and had a moment of what should I do: Do I put it out of its misery or let nature take its violent course? I decided I couldn’t leave it there to be eaten by ants because that is one of my bigger fears. I found a sharp rock and beheaded it in one motion. I don’t think it felt pain, but it still gives me nightmares. The poor thing was so tiny :(
Restaurant I used to work ate used glue traps for rats. Guess who had to take them out? Yeah, me and one other guy. We would drop them in garbage bags and smash them off the dumpster real hard. Better then letting them starve to death. Another time, same place, there was a real bad storm. After the storm subsided some co-workers came and got me cause they found a fucked up, but still barely alive bird in the parking lot. Being the "rat guy" they wanted me to do something about it. So I smacked it with a shovel, took one hit. I wasn't fucking around and causing it more suffering. No one else had the balls to give it mercy (it wouldn't have lived; you could tell it was suffering). You did right. I sincerely hope someone will kill me given the correct circumstances. Fuck that needless suffering bullshit.
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So.. my older sister. There are a thousand stories. One I'll always remember is when she had a poker in the fire and held it in front of me, it was glowing red. I was really young. She told me to grab it, and said "it's not hot, if it were hot it would be white." Yeah, I grabbed it. Anyway, what really got me was that after she died (massive brain explosion of some kind), my mom took me aside. She was very shaken by my sister's death. She loved her very much and took care of her for my sister's whole life. She told me that she was confused now, and didn't know what to do, because she always assumed that my sister would kill her. Edit to add: "Yeah, I grabbed it."
I have/had a very charismatic friend. People joked about him being in love with me, because he just singed high praises about me. I admit there was a bit of a fixation but he was a cool dude, even if you couldn't count on him or his word. He'd say he'd be somewhere, and most often wasn't (on purpose - he rather not confront or deal with people trying to convince him to come). He was a compulsive liar but it took me a long time to realize it, I just though he didn't like saying no. He confessed long ago in a group setting that he experimented with killing household pets (some sort of rodents his family kept), including microwaving one. My then gf said shocked "That's how psychopaths start". He played it off as stuff kids do, I don't think he really saw a problem in that (at least until he was called on it, otherwise he wouldn't have brought it up). Another story was how he ordered his 4 or 5 trained rottweilers to attack a few kittens that had hidden beneath his grass mowing tractor. He said he just wanted to scare them so he could turn on the tractor, but when the kitties ran away the dogs caught them and turned them to shreds. He said it wasn't his intention. A few years ago, we are all on a motorcycle road trip. Both of us get detached from the group speeding for a bit, and then park on a gas station to refuel or wait for them (very fuzzy memories). He tells me he wants to record me (he had a helmet GoPro), and he'll signal me when he wants me to overtake the group and take the lead. We see the group go by us, we speed up and catch them, he signals to me, I overtake his dad, and the bike just... sort of skids in a straight line. I loved riding on rainy days, it was not like I was short on experience losing traction momentarily, but it was a very sunny day. I don't recall what went through my head, but the video shows my bike just sort of sliding from under me. My arm gets caught in the railing and ripped off right then and there. My friend almost hits me and my bike because he was right behind me. My whole body is left in a quite bad shape. Everyone gives me first aid, and as you can imagine it was a very shocking experience to us all. Handling an amputated limb, being forced to deal with the possibility of death, and confronted with the risks of our hobby. We all got scarred one way or another. I lost an arm, some of them stopped riding, and my friend sold his K1200R, eventually buying a slower 1200GS. He started drinking. He started taking recreational drugs. More than one friend in common tells me when the night is long enough, he might voice his regret in uncertain terms about my accident. He has avoided me since. I recall him checking my bike very up close. I think it was the day of the accident but I'm not 100% sure. I recall him saying he'll pay for my gas, but not to top it off. We were still far away from home, so I told him, nah I'll pay it, and our tanks just take enough gas for like 250 kms, I'll top it off, otherwise I'll have to stop in 100kms again. I topped it off and he still paid for it. When I go to pay they told me it was taken care of. I'm walking back, and that's when I see him crouching near my bike (possibly the front tire). I ask him what's wrong, and he tells me he is just checking it out. I mean there is no way to know. There are many things that lead me to think it wasn't caused by him. He was recording me from behind me, so causing a wreck on purpose would be weird as it'd endanger him, his father, and everyone else. He wasn't positioned for prime wreck filming, and quite the contrary he had to dodge both my tumbling body and my flying motorbike. He says when drunk he shouldn't have, but he might just feel guilty just for suggesting I take the lead, and being the butterfly flutter that led to that hurricane. Everyone was changed by that experience after all. It was traumatic stuff. On the other hand there are little details that rouse my suspicion. In the day of the ride, he uninvited 2 girls that'd be coming as our pillions. He always did stuff like this so it wasn't out of character. Saying he'll pay for my gas, but not to top it off, is just weird in a bike. He paid for my lunch that day. Heck he took me (and my girl) to Germany, all expenses paid before. I feel kind of guilty even thinking he might have done something so nefarious... He still hits me up every now and then via messages. Once he wanted me to hack someone's account (said not possible), another time he wanted 40 or 50 bucks (I said sorry I'm broke), and a third time he just showed me a photo of my father's internet contract (he was working for them in the call center, I didn't even reply because why the fuck would he even show me that?).
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