This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/SunHeadPrime on 2024-09-30 23:26:41+00:00.
During my time at Goodwill, I’ve seen people turn in so many crazy items. One time, a lady tried to donate her dead husband’s false teeth. We politely told her “no thanks” and gave them back to her. We called her “Chompers” every time she shopped in the store.
While the weird and gross things are fun to gossip about, what I love getting are personal journals that people have accidentally donated with other books. It’s surprising how often this happens. There’s a thrill in reading something a person never intended for someone else to read. The honesty and true feelings that leap off the page are a gas to read.
Last week, I came across a journal someone had dropped off late in the evening with a cache of other books. As soon as I fished it out and started reading, I was hooked. This is, without a doubt, the weirdest, freakiest thing I’ve ever read. It’s a hybrid journal of handwritten pages and printed transcripts. It’s odd.
I’m gonna post the best parts, hoping someone out there can fill me in on what I’ve read. If any of this sounds familiar, please reach out. I have to know more.
***
8/20
I’ve been married to my wife Faith for four years and together for six. It’s been the happiest six years of my life. Before we got together, I had been going through a very rough time in my life. My parents had died in a house fire about four months before we got together. The fire department suspected arson, but never found who was responsible. Never getting closure on such a profound loss numbs your heart. On top of that, I had learned that my company was downsizing, and they gave me my walking papers a week after I buried my folks.
Since these things come in threes, joining my parent’s death and lack of career prospects was the last member of the trio: alcoholism. I hit the skids pretty hard. I was looking for a good time and thought I’d find it at the bottom of a bottle. While there was a brief period of “fun” when I’d go out drinking (in this case, fun meaning not feeling like jumping off a bridge for about two hours before blacking out) that soon gave way to hooking up with random weirdos, feeling like garbage every morning, and a rapidly dwindling savings account.
It was during this low point in my life when I found Faith. I first saw her working at the grocery store near my house and thought she was a knockout. Since I was there all the time grabbing something to drink, I eventually got to talking with her. Liquid courage and all that. Turns out, we had a lot in common. While we first bonded over small things - bands we liked, favorite cereal (we were in the aisle), stuff like that - but soon we started having the type of conversations you’d have on dates. I took a shot and asked her out and, after she berated me for taking so long, she said yes.
It was the first good news I had received in months.
Our first date was amazing. We met for Mexican food at a local favorite and lost track of time chatting. She told me she’d finished school two years earlier with a degree in substance abuse psychology, but had trouble finding a good job. She was working at the store temporarily until she found something better. I joked that while I was upset she hadn’t nailed down her dream job yet, I was glad it had led to us meeting. She agreed and added that it felt like fate. I couldn’t disagree.
Faith helped me heal myself. Her warming presence in my life helped to thaw my heart. She had noticed my drinking and, while never judging, she helped to guide me to putting down the bottle for good. It was a revelation, and I immediately felt the changes in my life. I had gone through a tunnel of shit and came out clean on the other side. Faith did that.
It’s not an exaggeration to say that I fell head over heels in love with her about a month into our dating.
I knew I had fallen into the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I didn’t want to lose it. I started thinking about ways I could support and help her. While I’d never be able to repay her for saving myself from myself, I became her biggest supporter. When she felt down, I did whatever I could to lift her up. Eventually, she found that job. Not long after, we moved in together. My happiness had returned and Faith was my north star.
I say all this to set the table for how weird her behavior lately has been. Ever since she started her new job, she’s been working long hours at the office. At first, she said it was something everyone goes through when they first start in this line of work. Low man (or woman, as it were) gets the extra workloads. Faith didn’t mind too much. She loved her job and was amazing at it. Anyone who got her as a counselor could count themselves as lucky.
I missed her, but I understood. I, too, had found new employment and saw my free time dwindle. We both had to try a little harder to make things work. It wasn’t always easy, but some things are worth the hassle. Faith was worth the hassle.
Within a few weeks, my job fell into a normal routine. I expected hers to follow suit, but that wasn’t the case. In fact, her hours got more erratic. She started having counseling appointments later into the evening, as some of her new, more difficult clients had to work around very full schedules. On top of that, she had become closer to her coworkers and, after rough days in the office, they’d sometimes need to blow off some steam with a drink at the local bar. Faith told me I could join them if I wanted, but I didn’t want to be that guy. I trusted her implicitly and wanted to give her some space.
If you’ve ever spoken with a teacher, the bond they get with their coworkers becomes ironclad. They have to deal with so many unexpected issues from their students, parents, and administration…and that’s before they’re expected to teach the Revolutionary war to bored middle schoolers. It’s like soldiers bonding in a battle. Unless you’ve been there, you can’t really understand it.
Working to help people get clean is like that, too. You get to know your clients on a deep, personal level. You care about them. Faith has told me as a counselor, you take the journey with your clients. When they succeed, you feel successful. When they fail, you feel like a failure. She told me that when a client fails and ends their life (which can happen), it leaves you a wreck. All that said, if she needs to have a drink with her coworkers to decompress after, I understand.
About two months into her job, a new guy named Blake started at her office. They slotted him into the office next to her and they clicked instantly. Blake and Faith would hang out most lunch breaks and discuss their cases and brainstorm solutions. I met Blake a few times, and he seemed like a good dude. I joked with Faith that he was her “work husband” and she didn’t argue. They’re good friends making their way as best they can in a demanding job.
Naturally, they would text back and forth. Most of the time it was work related but, as you become friends with someone, your personal relationship bleeds through. Again, I wasn’t worried. Faith never hid her phone or erased texts or anything. I could freely hop on her phone with zero issues from her. There were no red flags. I trusted her.
Then she started staying late most days. I’m talking, seven/eight o’clock. She tells me she’s in the office, but I swear a few times it didn’t sound like she was in the office. When she’d come home, she looks worn out. I know what it sounds like, but it doesn’t seem like physical exhaustion. She looks mentally drained. To the point where she just crawls into bed and goes to sleep. I don’t want to even tell you how long it’s been since we were intimate, but trust me, it’s been a long while.
The last thing that’s pushed me into questioning Faith is the note. The other day, my car was in the shop, so Faith let me borrow hers. After I dropped her off at the office - where Blake was waiting outside for her - I drove the car to the gas station to fill up. While cleaning the windows, I spied a piece of paper wedged between the seats.
Expecting it to be a receipt, I fished it out to discover a handwritten note. In neat, boxed print, it read, “Thanks for giving the proposal some thought. I think we’re both going to be pleased. Blake.” I felt my stomach drop. I know what it sounds like, but I also know that Faith had been talking about a potential job at work. She said Blake had pitched it to the higher ups and wanted to bring Faith on board. It’d be more work, longer hours, and potential work trips, but Faith told me the rewards were well worth it.
Am I a sap? Am I clinging onto the desperate hope that Faith has been true? Am I letting my brain get to me and red stringing unrelated acts into a conspiracy?
I guess what I’m really asking is: Am I overreacting?
9/3
I love Faith and, up to this point, she’s never given me a reason to doubt her. She’s been as loyal as they come. But I find myself doubting if she’s been completely honest. I love her so much and I don’t want to accuse her of something without having concrete proof. If nothing else, putting these thoughts to paper has made me determined to look a little closer.
I asked Faith about Blake waiting for her and she said it’s a habit they’ve gotten into. Blake read about “meeting your team members as they come into the office” as a way of strengthening the team bond. That sounded insane to me, so I asked for the book’s title to look it up. She hasn’t given...
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