When i was around 10, i would play every day for summer with my friends outside. From morning 12 to midnight 12. We would never really go back to our houses even when we would be really thirsty and hungry because once we get in, they would not let us out. So we would go to the nearest river for water. It was about 10 minutes of us walking distance. We thought it was really great idea, not knowing what will happen later. It was in the woods and on the opposite side of the river there was an isolated house. Every time we go there, a man drenched in sweat would come out of that house, staring at us the whole time we would be there. It was f-in creepy. After 2 or 3 times, i wanted to told my dad. At the time, i was scared of him knowing us going to the woods and got scared he would never let us play again, i just asked about whats in the woods. He looked suspiciously at me and said are you going to the woods? I quickly shake my head. After like a few seconds, he told me don’t go in the woods. Heard there were wild animals . Now knowing he doesnt know about the man, i didnt have great feeling about this. Something felt really off. Next day, my friends(2) gathered at the spot. We played till we were thirsty but i simply went home. Again, something was off. Past these days, i felt dizzy and unreal. So they went themselves. I was really worried about them and with nothing to do as the clouds were settling in, i took a nap. Possibly the greatest mistake of my life. I woke up and instantly remembered my friends. Called my dad and quickly went to the woods. It was raining heavily. My friends were nowhere to be seen. Edit1: they have been gone missing and we could do absolutely nothing about it. When we went to the house with police nothing was there except lots of blood like lots. Most creepy thing was in the smell of it my dad said. It was unbearable. Edit2: i am well over 30 now and wanted to tell you guys about my story. This happened in the eighties and i didnt go with my dad at the time. A few years later, my dad told me about this story and no, i havent been in the house. I wrote as best as i could as my dad described.

So l have a lot of reasons for thinking this but just focusing on today. I'm at work (subway) which I hate more than anything else in the world and today wasn't a bad shift at all. I just hate this job so much that I started thinking about how im stuck here and got really mad. So I kept having these moments where wanted to rage and break something or something like that. Usually that's how I am when I'm mad. But this time I couldn't control it so l grabbed a knife and I wanted to cut myself but I just walked outside and stabbed tf out of an old chair behind the dumpster. I felt a little better. Is this a sign of something or do I just have anger issues?