Vol. 243: Disturbing True Stories From Reddit
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That's N-O-O-M dot com. This happened over a decade ago, but the memory still sticks with me. When one comes close to dying, that's not exactly something that leaves you. I was already with my future husband when I first met his cousin James. We connected immediately, too easily perhaps. We had shared struggles, battles with addiction, anorexia, and a longing to feel understood. At first, it seemed like a bond born out of shared pain.

but I only learned later that it was rooted in something far darker. We talked often, sometimes late into the night. We'd meet up to sometimes get our only meal of the day together, or catch a movie. But one night, things shifted. Sitting in his car after an outing, he leaned in and kissed me. I immediately pulled away, stunned and uncomfortable, and I told him that we couldn't keep seeing each other. When I confessed this to my then-boyfriend, he was surprisingly understanding. What I didn't tell him

was how furious his cousin had become after I rejected him. Time passed and I let the dust settle, and against my better judgement, I allowed us to meet up again as friends. We'd always go to the same place, both of us too thin, starving ourselves, but finding some solace in sharing meals that neither of us should have been eating. After a few of these outings, it became clear that our connection wasn't healthy for either of us. I decided to stop seeing him altogether. That's when he asked me to meet him one final time,

He said it so earnestly, so insistently, that I caved. I thought I could handle just one more dinner. That night, we went to our usual spot. He talked about his apartment, his job, and how happy he could make me if only I'd let him. The way he spoke really shook me, like I was supposed to just fall into his arms. But I told him that I needed to go home. By the time that we were driving away from the restaurant, I realized that it was much later in the evening than I had originally thought.

Instead of heading towards my house, he took a turn off the main highway into a forest preserve. The darkness of our surroundings was now suffocating, with no other lights anywhere. My heart was already beating out of my chest, and every part of me screamed to get out of the car. He pulled into the parking lot, where we were completely alone, and then he shut off the engine. The air inside the car felt heavy, and that's when he turned to me with his face a strange mix of desperation and anger, and said, "'We're meant for each other.'"

I was frozen, too scared to even push back. I didn't want to upset him, knowing just a little bit about his history of violence. Instead, I whispered that he knew I was engaged, and we were only friends. But that wasn't enough for him. His expression changed, tears welled in his eyes, but that sorrow quickly turned to rage. He said he loved me, his voice trembling, and before I could even react, his arm was around my neck.

The pressure was immediate and unbearable as he clamped down on the right side of my neck. I knew that he had been a wrestler in high school. He knew exactly what he was doing. I stared straight ahead, panicking, the world closing in as the blood flow to my brain slowed, and then everything went black. When I woke up, a police officer was standing at the window of the car. His flashlight illuminated the scene. Vomit on my shirt, my pants soaked. I was disoriented, terrified, and ashamed.

The officer asked if I was okay. I wanted to scream, to cry, to beg for help. But that fear silenced me. My attacker spoke calmly, telling the officer we were fine and that I was drunk. I wasn't drunk. I was nearly dead. The officer handed James a ticket, some minor infraction, and then turned his attention to me. I forced myself to sound steady as I told him I was okay, but I wanted to go home. I thought if I said it in front of the officer,

They would ensure my safety for the drive. The officer took our names, and I felt as if James knew that he couldn't try anything more without risking arrest. The car ride home itself was silent. I was shaking the entire way, replaying what had just happened, wondering if James had intended to kill me, or if his rage had simply spiraled out of control. Either way, I had come within inches of death. One doesn't vomit, or lose control of a bladder.

unless your brain has been deprived of oxygen for far too long. That's how I knew that I almost didn't make it out of the situation. I told my now husband about it eventually, but not right away. Guilt ate at me, making me feel complicit for agreeing to that one final meeting. My husband was horrified, supportive, but it didn't erase the damage. I only saw that cousin a few times after that, at family holidays, but he never spoke to me again. Beyond that,

He never even attempted to make eye contact with me. If that officer hadn't arrived when he did, I wouldn't be here to share this. That thought is what sends me spiraling. I came so close to being a memory, and it's something that never stops haunting me. All right, let's talk about something that's been keeping me motivated and actually fitting into my crazy schedule. Peloton. Whether you're in your holiday era, wellness era, or just trying to make it through the week era,

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First, you're going to need a little bit of backstory. I was adopted, which isn't a bad thing, except that my parents had wanted a perfect dream Barbie doll daughter, and I was supposed to live out their script. They were controlling, and coupled with alcohol abuse. By the time I was a teen, the breach was so bad that I wasn't even living in their house most of the time. I'd try to move back and fix things, but it never seemed to work. What finally broke my back was a guy that I'll call Rich.

Rich phoned my house one afternoon and asked for a date. I told him that I didn't know who he was, which was true, and that I wasn't allowed to date, which was also true. He seemed annoyed because I didn't know who he was. "I'm on the student council. I'm the head of our junior achievement club." Which, big deal. So what? I asked how he got my number because it was unlisted, and he said he volunteered in the school office and pulled my number from student records.

This should have been my first clue, but I was only 15 at the time, and with minimal life experience, I didn't know to be turned off by such an act. Anyway, I told him no and hung up, thinking that this was the end of it. The next day I get home from school and find my mom all excited. She's gotten a call from El Creepo and his mother, and she was just so impressed that she decided that I could go out with him. His mom was going to pick us up and bring me home, so it was okay.

I told her that I didn't even know the guy, but she thought this was so sweet that he had his mother introduce him. We went out for pizza and a movie, and I thought he was a nice enough guy, but I really wasn't interested in him. However, he decided this one date meant that I was now his girlfriend. He was aided and abetted in this by my mother, who thought he was just the perfect young man, and quote, just what we always wanted for you.

Explaining to her that I wasn't interested in him just brought up a monologue about what a great guy he was, what a good family he came from. Why would I rather be home reading a book than out having a good time? Telling her that I didn't have a good time just didn't seem to compute in her brain. I never got to see any of my other friends because Rich was always monopolizing my time. Weekends, I had to go to his house for dinner and watch TV. First, we'd watch The Love Boat. Then we'd watch Fantasy Island.

and I had to endure his siblings running around the living room flapping their arms and yelling, "The plane! The plane!" I wish I was making this part up, but nope. On Saturday and Sunday, we played Atari at his house. At least he had good games. And then Sunday mornings, as soon as Rich woke up, he'd give me a call. I'd try telling him that I wasn't interested in a relationship, and I didn't want to see him anymore. I remember, on more than one occasion, he began to cry at this admission.

I also remember having to shake his hands off of me. While I was walking home, he called my mom in tears, saying that he just wanted to tell her goodbye and "I guess I just didn't love her enough." And my psycho mother blasted me when I walked in the door for being so mean to this sweet guy. He quickly learned the way to force me out on dates was to ask in front of my mom, because she would roll over any excuse I came up with. He began trying to get rid of my friends by complaining that they didn't like him, which was true.

and asked my mom to make sure that they weren't invited over when he was at our house. My friends either didn't like him or were a bad influence on me. Those were his two favorite rationales to use on my mom. He griped about my clothes and makeup. He hated lipstick especially. I told my mom, thinking she'd agree how stupid this was. But when I got dressed for school the next day, she blew up on me. What are you doing with that makeup on? Rich told you he doesn't like that. You get in there and wash your face right now.

I was flabbergasted, but said hell no to both of them and wore whatever I liked. He'd scowl and screw his face up into the ugliest sneers, saying that I looked like a streetwalker. Mind you, this was over lipstick, eyeshadow, and mascara. A girl your age has no business wearing a bikini. That top is too low cut. Why don't you show some self-respect? Also some of his favorites for the summer months.

I wish he'd been physically abusive, because then my parents would have agreed to get rid of him. But he was an honor student from a good family, not a troublemaker. At school, the teachers liked him, and although other kids thought he was a number one nerd, he wasn't exactly bullied, because at our high-performing high school, he stomped everyone's behind academically. I don't know why he fixated on me. Maybe it was because I was the shyest kid in school. Like I said, he never hit me. I just couldn't peel him off.

Christmas time was the worst. He gave me a list. This is what he wants for Christmas. This is what his sister wants for Christmas. This is what his mother wants. He expected me to buy gifts for his entire family. I wasn't even planning to get him anything, and he wanted an Atari game. We couldn't afford an Atari system for ourselves, but mom of course buys it for him. She gets everything on the list and tells me to hush, because they're getting me something too. I asked Rich for a gift certificate to the bookstore.

But his mom says gift certs are tacky. They'll get me a real gift, so I was thinking something cool. He gets me, I kid you not, a set of ladies' handkerchiefs. I saw them two for five bucks at Kmart after he demanded an Atari game. His sister gets me nothing. His mom buys me a football jersey. Mind you, I'm not a football fan, but this is like the one that Rich wears.

Mom goes gaga saying how cute, that will match, and be sure to wear it next Friday so they'll see how much I like it. I quietly threw that thing away. I blasted my parents for manipulating and interfering, and then I moved out once again. They gave Rich my new address, as well as my phone number. I had to move and change numbers again, and this time, I didn't give my parents the number. He had Mom go to one of my friends and weasel it out of her.

I almost got fired from a job because he wouldn't stop calling. He waited for me outside the door of my work and followed me home, begging and crying. He followed another guy I was dating and tried to convince him that we were engaged. I called the cops, but they said he wasn't breaking any laws and even lectured me for not being forceful enough. Sometimes he would disappear for a few months, but he'd always turn up again. My roommate came home from work one day to find him mowing the lawn at the duplex we were renting.

Like I said at the beginning, at this time the word "stalking" didn't exist, or at least it wasn't a term that was taught and instructed to know what it looked like. The harassment ended only when I moved out of town. I went back for a family funeral and found he had gone to pay respects and introduced himself to everyone as my boyfriend. I told everyone that he had spoken to. If they told him where I was living, I'd shoot them first and him second.

I never went to any of my high school reunions because I was afraid of seeing him there. I wonder sometimes if he ever got married. I feel sorry for the girl if he did. This episode is brought to you by Shopify. Do you have a point of sale system you can trust or is it a real POS? You need Shopify for retail. From accepting payments to managing inventory, Shopify POS has everything you need to sell in person.

Go to shopify.com slash system, all lowercase, to take your retail business to the next level today. That's shopify.com slash system. I'm not sure if this story belongs here, because I can't quite decide if I would have an issue meeting this person again. But I reckon any normal person wouldn't. This happened to me in Tempe, Arizona, not far from Mill Avenue, where all the bars are at.

I was out bar hopping with a group of my friends one weekend, having a good time, and I had gotten pretty wasted over the course of the evening. I have this terrible habit of wandering off and getting lost when I drink, and on this particular night, I had managed to get myself into a very dumb situation. After wandering down various streets for almost an hour, I started to realize that I was lost, and to make things worse, my phone was out of battery.

At some point, I decided I would just walk back to my friend's house, which I knew was somewhere north of the area where we were bar hopping. I should mention that I'm also severely incompetent when it comes to directions and navigating in a city, so I didn't realize that I was a solid 7-8 miles away from my friend's place. As I was stumbling confidently along the empty roads at 2am, a sedan suddenly pulls off the road in front of me, aggressively, almost blocking my path.

Somewhat startled, I look towards the driver's side seat and see a rather large, mean-looking man staring me down. In situations like this, most people have one of two reactions. They either become scared and defensive, or become angry and aggressive. I, on the other hand, am an insane person and was drunk enough to have no sense of danger at all. I should mention, I'm your typical privileged suburban white guy,

Not particularly threatening or big. I proceeded to wave at the driver, saying, "Hey man, what's good?" I'm not completely sure, but I think I was probably smiling too. I specifically remember the face that he made. It was a sort of confused and conflicted look, as if I were asking him what year this was. He paused for a moment and asked me something, but I couldn't understand what he said. I said something like, "Huh?" He then asked me, "Where are you going?"

I told him I was trying to walk to my friend's place, but I have no idea where I'm at. After another brief pause, he told me to get in, without giving it any second thought. I walked over to the passenger side and jumped right in. Pretty dumb, right? Well, at the time, it seemed like a good idea. Once I got in, I was able to get a better look at the guy. He was covered in tattoos and was wearing your typical thug attire. I also noticed his arm was all bandaged, and he also had a pistol tucked into his shorts.

Again, for some reason, none of this fazed me at the time. He asked me where my friend's place was, and I gave him the directions. Now, I'm pretty sociable and talkative when I drink, so I immediately started chatting with the guy casually. I don't remember exactly how we got started, but eventually, he told me his entire life story. He had just gotten out of the hospital after being treated for a gunshot wound in his arm, and his girl had just broken up with him because of it.

Apparently, she didn't like the fact that he was in a gang and getting into gunfights. Go figure. He then told me that he was real pissed off about her leaving and about getting shot, and he was driving around looking for someone to rob that night when he found me, and that he served time for robbery in the past. At that point, my drunken brain started to connect the dots, and I thought about the roughly $200 I had in my wallet at that very moment.

But instead of freaking out, I just said something like, damn man, that's rough. He also told me that he really wanted to be a rapper and was trying to get his music career off the ground. I tried to be supportive, telling him to just go for it. About 10 minutes later, we pulled up at my friend's place. Now, this is when I should have gotten out of the car and told the armed man thanks for the ride. But again, I'm not quite all there in the head and felt like I owed him one for taking me all the way there.

So I asked him if he wanted to come in and smoke some weed with us. He said he was down. At this point, my friends had already been back home for a while and were all wondering what had happened to me, as you might expect. They were awfully surprised when I showed up with a strange dude who I now knew was a gang member. One that had openly admitted that he had debated robbing me at gunpoint. I don't think I could have guessed what this dude was going to do next though. My buddy lives in a house with a few other people.

His room is at the end of a hallway, and that's where they were all listening to music. He also has a huge safe in his closet that's visible as soon as you walk in the room. I didn't realize it, but my new friend had brought his gun inside with him, and shortly after entering the room, after everyone said "what's up", he took his gun out of his waistband and put it down right on top of the safe in front of everyone. It seemed like a really odd thing to do, but it was a lot better than what he could have done.

I feel like it was sort of a show of respect, like he wanted to show that he wasn't going to use it. Luckily, I have some super chill friends, so they acted cool. And we're about to roll up a blunt, so a few minutes later, we all went out back to smoke, leaving that gun in his room. The dude chilled with us for a while longer, and actually seemed to get along with some of my friends who had a similar interest in music. He was conversational, downright friendly, and then when his time came, he picked up his gun and left without incident.

Looking back now, I realize that this could have gone so much worse, especially since my buddy had a lot of cash in that safe, and he could have easily robbed us at gunpoint at any time. I like to think that although he was a criminal and a gang member, he was also just a guy going through a hard time, and a little kindness and some greenery prevented that night from going very bad. I open this question up to all of you kind strangers on the internet. Am I crazy for thinking that I just made a new friend?

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