Redditors Revealed Their Most Traumatizing Family Secrets And These People Are Truly Fucked Up

By 10.01.15
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My worst family secret (that I’m aware of, at least) is that no one actually enjoys eating the codfish gravy that my grandma used to make for Christmas Eve dinner and everyone would just eat it with an alabaster-fake smile painted onto our faces. Except me, of course — that shit was disgusting. Always hated it, always will hate it, never will eat it. But when compared to the people sharing stories on the Ask Reddit thread “What is the most fucked up family secret you know?“, I live a life of unicorns and roses despite my picky palate. These people need therapy, STAT.

I found out a few years ago that my dad spent years drugging my mom so he could rape her while she was passed out. I’ve since helped my mom divorce him and my family has no relationship with him. What no one knows is that while I was dating my wife many years ago, she drank with my dad while I was at work. She had recently turned 21 so I thought she had completely passed out when I couldn’t wake her. I now know how well she can handle her drink and she has never been unwakable. I suspect my dad drugged her, but I have no proof. No use telling her what I suspect so it will go with me to the grave. It makes me sick just thinking about it.

My grandma is supppeeerrr racist. I used to assume it was just because she grew up during a time when that was the norm, but I found out a couple years ago that wasn’t the reason.
My mom finally sat me down one day and explained why she was so racist. She was brutally raped by a group of black men, and has flashbacks whenever she’s around black men. I don’t think any of the younger generation in my family knows besides me.

My grandfather was a milkman and was beaten and mugged by black men 4 separate times. He had to be taken to the ER twice and had 3 surgeries due to his injuries. He hated black men, and that’s what I remembered as a kid. As I grew older, I started to understand what racism was and his hatred of black men.
As he got older, a black man moved across the street from him. My grandpa was getting too old to maintain his yard, carry things, etc. The man across the street would go out of his way to help my grandfather, mow his grass, paint the house, help bring in groceries, and so on.
My grandpa and the neighbor became best friends. They would sit on the porch and would talk for hours. He completely changed as a human being. Horrible things are done to individuals, but all it takes is one genuine act of kindness to change a person.
I will forever be grateful to that man. He showed me that me my grandpa was a lot more than a racist. RIP grandpa.

I didn’t know I was adopted until I was 18. Turns out my mom went crazy and was in a mental hospital for a little while. She banged some guy there and got pregnant with me. All while she was married to the man I call my father. He promised her to never speak of it and raise me as his own, and he did. Good man

When i was 21 [i am almost 24 now] my oldest sister told me that she was stranger raped when she was 17, something i was shocked to hear because no one in my family has ever breathed a word of this to me and i have a big family. My sister is also 17 years older than me and people say we could be twins. i have asked my mom specific questions about my birth story for a class i had and she “couldn’t remember” most of the answers to them, such as who was in the room when i was born and what time was i born. also, my parents are extremely religious (southern baptist) and are thoroughly opposed to abortion. if you still haven’t figured out what I’m getting at, i have a sneaking suspicion that i am really my sister’s daughter, the illegitimate product of her rape, and my grandparents have been pretending to be my real parents all of this time, because that is totally something i could see my parents doing. i never had the courage to ask because i feel like it doesn’t add up that my sister would tell me about her rape and exclude the part about me being her daughter if such was the case, also i don’t want to offend her by making a traumatizing event in her life into being about me. not so much of a secret as a crazy conspiracy theory.

I was conceived at a swingers party and nobody in my family (who knows this) is completely sure my dad is my biological father.

When my grandma was growing up in Costa Rica around 1940-something her mother was dating a guy who seemed like bad news. Just all around weird guy, neither my grandma or her sister liked him. Their mother wouldn’t listen. He’s fine, he takes care of us, etc.
Except one night this guy decides he’s had enough of “being nice” and “taking care of them”. He decides to murder my great grandma in her bed via a hammer to the skull. There is a LOT of blood. Not just on the walls and ceiling but soaking into the mattress beneath the body. My grandma and her sister come home to find their mom dead, their house covered in blood and the murderer nowhere to be found. So they call the police, the police take the body away, do a cursory examination of the crime scene and call it a day. It was rural Costa Rica before the Second World War. There wasn’t a lot they could do forensically and the only thing they had to go on was the fact that the boyfriend was nowhere to be found. So the police leave, leaving twelve year old grandma and her nine year old sister to clean up the mess. They scrub the blood off the walls and ceiling then realize something. If they throw away the bloody mattress then they have no bed left. The one they shared with their mother was the only bed in the house. So, being poor and frugal, they decide to flip the mattress. My grandma held the bottom end while her sister turned the whole thing up on one end. Instead of flipping the mattress my grandma ended up doused in all the blood that had been pooling inside of it. Apparently it was cold, and thick, and more like syrup than liquid. To this day my family maintains that getting doused in her murdered mother’s blood was what turned her into the crazy/evil woman we all know.

When I was a kid my family had to cover our floor in salt, or we’d wake up every morning and our entire floor would be covered in slugs. Not just a few, it looked like we had a slimy black carpet. It was like something from a horror movie. I hated it at first, but I started to recognize them as the blessing they really are. You can squeeze them into your eye as a cure for dry eyes, or rub a few on a cut or scrape to help it heal faster (their secretions contain a chemical or enzyme or something, Idk. It tastes weird, but it works!). If you have a kid (or elderly person) with diaper rash, you can put a few slugs in their diaper next time you change them and they’ll cure it right up. Anyways, we all thought that the slugs were getting into our house through the faucet in the bathtub, but it turns out my demented grandma was stealing them from my neighbors slug hive. So in 1997 there was a slug shortage in North Houston caused by my grandma.

My grandfather beat a man to death with a kitchen chair. This happened back in the early1950s, and the man was my grandmother’s lover.

Wifes brother in law was a paedophile. Got locked up for it and released after treatment.
Wife leaves 4 year old daughter and 12 year kid sister with paedophile. Paedophile tries it on with the 12 year old. Wife realises her mistake and realises that if 12 year old goes to the police then she’d have her children taken away by social for being so fucking stupid. Her and mum convince 12 year old to forget about it. No action is taken, its never spoken of again.
Paedophile still comes round for Christmas dinner with family and the kids.
12 year old (now 25) has panic attacks every single time and thankfully no longer attends.

My son shat himself while we were in public, and he had to wear my yoga pants until we could get him a new pair of pants. This was yesterday.

Decided to end on a high note there.

[Via Reddit]


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