It was 2000,

I was in middle school, there was this girl I used to like, she was exactly 1 year older than me, but It never bothered me, anyway since I have always been shy I could never approach her, so what I did, was making prank calls at her house almost every day, I just felt good talking to her, but eventually the school psychiatrist knew what I was doing and he was asking me all kind of questions and he even called the police and my parents were there too, In the end I got expelled from that school because the girl's grandmother had a heart attack because of the constant prank calls I did.

One month later I occasionally met her in the mall, I apologized and we talked for a while turns out that she loved me, and that things could have worked out better If I had used a different approach.

Since then I became asexual, nothing about girls seems appealing to me anymore.

The worst day of my life was probably the day my Grandfather died. He had been hospitalized due to a nasty fall and later developed some complications, ranging from flu-like symptoms to near-kidney failure. He was one of my favorite relatives, as he always seemed so charming and witty, always knowing the right words to say. Anyway, he gets better and starts living at home with Grandma again (they both live only a few blocks from our old house.)

Anyway, fast forward to a few months later, my dad calls me, saying that my grandmother needs help with granddad, but she wasn't specific on the details. So, me and a then close friend drive over and find out what happened. Turns out that he had basically passed out in the bathroom and had been slumped over for about ten minutes. My friend goes to call 911 while I sit there holding him up against the wall, trying to give him some breathing room. When the paramedics finally arrived, I bolted out of there and just sat on the couch their, holding my head. I wasn't crying, I was just silent. So, we decide to head to the hospital with them, and my friend takes me and and my grandmother there in his van, while I just sat in the back, blankly staring at the ground.

A few minutes later, the lot of us (the rest of my close family had arrived shortly before) are sitting in the waiting room when the doctor calls us in, and I opt to stay behind with my friend in the lobby. He thought it would be best to get me out of there, so we drive to a fast food place and grab a bite, and while we're in the parking lot eating in his car, I just bawl my fucking eyes out for what seemed like half an hour. My mother calls me and tells us to head back to the house, and everyone is just sitting down around the kitchen. My mother walks up and asks me if I want to hear what happened, I tell her no, because it was pretty apparent to me.

So yeah, that day was pretty shitty on the whole.

My worst day ever was when my slightly racist funny grandma stopped breathing and was hospitalized.

See my granddad and her had nothing in common, she'd stay up all night and chain smoke in the dark and he'd stay up all day and watch soccer, football and never said more than 2 words or showed any emotion what so ever(he's British). they took care of each other. There was love but it was more like they just lived together and loved the routine.

Well when she stopped breathing she was put on a respirator to breath for her. She was listed as do not resuscitate but the doctors gave the family the option because she was not of sound mind or something.

The family was split into two. The religious side who wanted her to live and my side with my mom. Me and my mom cared for my nan and granddad. We visited them every week and were closer to them than the rest of the family who only saw her on Christmas and get togethers

We chose to pull the plug on the respirator and there was something like a 5% chance that she would start breathing on her own.

She didn't.

My grandma layed still and she didn't breath...I normally am very good with dealing with emotions. I'm an emotional rock but I cried that day when Grandpa ran up to her and shook her yelling "Breathe Annie breathe!"

I bawled. The next time I cried was at her funeral but it wasn't until mom squeezed my hand. Ever since then I visit my mom every 3 days for coffee. We've never been closer.

I've yet to cry since then. I know I will when grandpa dies.

I miss you grandma.

All of my worst days are involved with my father. My father was a pedophile, and molested my little sister (I found this out about a few weeks ago). We had always been suspicious, but didn't want to start a trial against him because we had no evidence (my little sister said nothing happened, probably just repressed it all and was in despair and whatnot).

He was also a drunk, and a very violent man who would randomly hit you for no apparent reason. He also had asperger's syndrome, so he couldn't say "I love you" or show any sort of affection.

So, basically, my father was a 6'0", mostly emotionless, pedophile drunk abuse machine. I hated him, still do. But now I pity him more. ANYWAYS.

On the day of my Jr. High Graduation he was going to bring some food for the dance. But since he was an idiot, he decided to bike about 20 miles to my school. Without a helmet. With a cooler full of food. (He was a big biking enthusiast and shit.)

He crosses an intersection while it was red, gets blind sided by some truck going 40 mph. We get the news, my mom tells me and goes "You don't care, do you?"
"Nope."

She doesn't seem to care, either. Anyways, we go to the hospital, and I see him laying there. Bloody fucking mess, he literally looks like a zombie, blood and cuts everywhere, MASSIVE fucking gash on his head, pale as month old shit. And as he's struggling to even fucking breathe, he whispers "Son.. I.. I love you."

I burst into fucking tears. Not because I'm happy, but because it hit me like a ton of bricks that I was actually happy that my father went through so much pain, and because I wasn't able to say "I love you too, Dad."

Also, that was the first time he had ever said anything nice to me, let alone "I love you."

I'm doing pretty good now, though. Kicked him outta the house when I was 16 and haven't seen him since. (I'm 19 now.)

Sixth or seventh grade I had a massive panic attack and almost wound up in a mental ward - thankfully my mother told the psych suggesting that to fuck off and fall of a cliff.

The panic attack was induced by depression medication because I had been having massive depression that year. The depression was bad but made worse by ADD medication. A year later I found out the ADD call was bullshit and that I should never have been taking that medication in the first place.

Also, in sixth grade, the day I found out that the few people I thought were my friends really weren't and I realized I had no friends. Holy fuck that was bad.

Another bad one, more recent. I did a full-on clean of my room, and went through my shit to throw some stuff out. Found all my middle school stuff, notebooks and the like, and went through it all. Reading it, I realized just how depressed and near-insane I was and cried a bit. Felt fucking terrible for about a week afterwards.

Also, this Christmas was pretty... not bad, just really really kinda shit. It was great in the morning, but at about 2 we went to my dad's to have dinner and have a bit of a family gathering. For the first time in months, even though he's been trying and trying to quit, he's stone-cold drunk. He was distant, barely there, and it felt terrible.

Another bad one related to dad - when I was in fourth grade. He was really, really drunk, and destroyed one of the bedrooms in the house. Almost got to the office, meaning to break the computer, when the police showed up. He was there overnight and came home the next morning. He was confused as to why the master bedroom was in tatters and why he was in jail overnight.

15 years ago, New Year's Eve.

Me, my Dad, and my little bro went out to dinner in Arlington, VA. We're walking home and my little bro dashes out into the cross walk without looking and got hit by a truck. He's been a vegetable for the last 15 years.

It was horrifying. I was only 8 at the time and he was about 5.

This really wasn't the worst day of my life seeing I can hardly remember it.
Me and my big sister who is three ears older than me were at my dad's place. Well, more like dad's girlfriend's place. He had no apartment of his own so he would always hook up with women and live with them.
We were watching cartoon network with my sister when we hear yelling from the living room. It's dad and his girlfriend fighting. The fight takes a nasty turn when my dad grabs her by her hair and smashes her face in to a wall. Eventually someone calls the police and we leave.

However, the only thing I remember is the blood on the wall and the kind police man who asked my name. When I answered him he said "oh, my wife has the same name", and showed me her picture from his wallet. She was sooo beautiful and I was proud of my name and hoped that one day I would be as pretty as her.

Backstory: There's a bar I frequent on Fridays usually with co workers. Well about 6 weeks ago we're hanging out, getting plastered and there's been this guy there who's been hitting on me for months. I get shitfaced and I let him drive me home. Well we're in the car and he's trying to feel me up and I don't want any of it. So I tell him I'll give him a BJ if he stops. So I'm sucking his dick and he cums, I swallow like a good girl but his cum just tasted nasty and I end up throwing up all over him. He's like "it's fine, it's cool" whatever. I stumble to my apartment and pass out.

So next Friday there he is at the bar but this time he has flowers for me... He thinks we're like a couple now. He gets mad when I refuse him and then very loudly he's all "well why did you suck my dick and then puke all over me!?" About everyone in the bar stops and looks at us. I take the flowers out of his hand and smack his face with them the loudly and drunkenly I said "because I felt sorry for you asshole!" which was kinda true but not anymore. He storms out with the entire bar laughing at him.

I haven't seen him at that bar or any of the others nearby since.

See the thing is, he's an attractive guy but he's just as dull as a rock. No personality what so ever.

November 24 2000.

I am a junior in high school, dealing with the normal bullshit of bullies, sluts and other things. When someone hits me. Now, the first day of school, they had a big assembly saying that you should not get in a fight or else you will be expelled from school, so I do the sensible thing and tell a security guard.

After this, I am sent to the principal. Instead of listening to both sides of the story, they dote on the poor "bullied" student who hit me for no reason. The idiot changes his story like 3 times, and they hang on every word, while I sit there and get in trouble for doing the right thing.

Eventually, I am ARRESTED, and expelled from school anyway, meaning I should've just fought back.

Because of this, I pretty much missed the remainder of my junior year, but luckily graduated on time with a diploma.

I get a phone call at work saying that my kid is sick, and I have to come home right away because he needs to go to the ER.

My car was dead, I had been taking the bus, but the bus wasn't due for another hour. A guy just getting off work offered me a ride home. He had only been there about two weeks but I figured he seemed cool, and I took it.

Twenty minutes later we were driving in the opposite direction of my apartment, out towards Blue Diamond (which is desert) he said he had a gun and was going to blow my head off if I didn't give him what he wanted.

Instead, I decided "fuck it, I'm either gonna be dragged off into the desert to die, or I'm going to die here" and I jumped out at a red light.

I took a gamble and it paid off, I did not get shot.
He sped off and not only did I lose my wallet, but I had to walk like, three fucking miles in the summer heat because nobody would stop and help me.

Obviously he never came back into work, probably went back to Mexico. My kid was fine (had the flu), but the babysitter bitched at me for not getting home soon enough.

Worst day of my life.

driving to work and getting a call from my brother to say he's found my mum dead (he could barely get the words out).. then being stuck in peak hour traffic driving right across the other side of town taking me an hour and a half, barely able to see from crying.

after arriving at my mum's house, speaking with my brother, dad (parents had been seperated for 10 years), cops & coroner etc I called relatives to tell them of the news.

never, ever wish to be in that position again. I've told my dad he's not allowed to die.

My ex was after a fat chick and I was still in love with him. he was my world. I had no one else.
for some reason everything fell around me, I had no hope then.
It's no big deal looking back, but my mind was seriously fucked up.

I stood in the middle of the room screaming and crying, begging god to do something.
My mum phoned the hospital, they refused to do anything if I wasn't trying to hurt or kill myself..I was in too much of a state.
I went to therapy (I was already having it prior to the situation) my therapist made me call him, I just broke into tears. this went on and on.
eventually he said we had some hope, i tried so hard for him, but cried when he said he wasnt ready. we had sex a lot but no relationship.
then when i asked him round for new year...he said he was with a friend. she was 15 and from the other side of the country. he was 22.

turns out he had been planning it for weeks, using me, lied about everything. then lied to her too. we started talking, he used to make fun of me in front of my friends and people i knew, to everyone he called me names and said he hated me.

my heart was so broken i dont know if it will be the same again. so much trust to be fucked up by some paedo.
after that i was used by every guy i fell for because i wasnt good enough.

he basically ruined my life :) i have someone else now, but i'm not the same as i was.

My dad died. He collapsed in the hall. I was upstairs in my room and I didn't dare go down. I heard the paramedic tell my mum they weren't going to be able to save him, my mum was like "..What?! NO! NO!" then my next door neighbours took my mum over to theirs while my two older brothers had to explain to the coroner and the like what happened. I could hear them both weeping.

Half an hour or so passed and no-one came to check on me (which kinda upset me) and I needed a piss so I went to the bathroom and on my way back out I looked down the stairs and saw my dad lying there with a sheet over him. I ran into my room and cried some more.

Eventually my oldest brother came up to see me, told me what happened, and hugged me. I was crying my eyes out. Then we were joined by my other brother and we both just sat there for 10 minutes, then we heard them get ready to bag him so we turned on the TV. I can't remember what was on.

My mum came home a while later and hugged me and shit, told me things were going to be OK, then we all went to bed at 9PM.

Life has been great since then, (happened September 06 when I was 17 and I'm 20 now) but the past few months have shown promise and I think I'm ready to finally move on and life my life again.

it was the last semester of my senior year ('06) and i was just turning 18.

i call my best friend of 4 years to see if he wanted to hang out after our finals. (he was also my first love...very long and romantic story. in the end we decided not to be "together" but he was still the closest person to me)

his older brother answers the phone crying. in a shaky voice i ask "is jay there?" he says "he's dead" and sobs, and hangs up the phone. i felt the warmth in my body being sucked out of me, and it has still not returned. he fell 70 feet onto concrete.

When I lived at home and after I hit age 16 or so, my dad had a habit of coming to talk to me about "stuff I need to know", drunk of course.

9/10 times when that happened he just told me about all the shit he did and now regrets and eventually he'd just bawww. I always told him to get the fuck out and shut the fuck up.
All those times are the shittiest nights of my life, as I was also going through all that shitty teenage angst and depression back then.

The WORST night started as usual but eventually I got fucking sick of him and just pushed him out of my room and locking the door. He busted the whole fucking door, tare down my paintings and posters from the wall, he kicked my computer and then hit me.
After the hit he had a fucking smug and assholish satisfied grin on his face. I snapped then and kicked the motherfucking shit out of him (as said he was drunk so it was easy), broke his arm and gave him a couple of nice black eyes.

He stopped doing that shit after that night and a year later I moved to my own place. We're alright now that we don't have to see each other every fucking day.

Me and a friend were surfing in South Africa, we were sat in the surf waiting for a good wave. I saw a black object that was quickly obscured from view by a 5 foot wave about 30 feet away.

Obviously when you are in SA your first instinct is that it is a shark. It was. It came out of the wave really quickly and grabbed my friend and shook. You'd think you'd be scared in this situation, but I seriously wasn't. The shark decided to let go of my friend and I dragged him back to shore (followed by the shark which was at times touching me). My friend was dead by the time we got to the shore, when the shark grabbed him it bit his neck and cut the artery that goes to the brain.

Made plans with girlfriend.

Waited two hours for her to call back, text back, and/or log on MSN.

Never does.

I said "Fuck it". Go out to eat lunch with my friend. Found out my girlfriend had some nasty internal injury and got put in the hospital.

Shes been in and out since then.

I haven't seen her for two weeks.

Worst *two weeks* of my life.

New Years Eve, 1999

Sitting at home, watching TV with my mother. My sister had already gone to bed.

My father came home from work. Him and mom had been fighting constantly.

He came into the room. And just looked at us.

He told mom he was leaving for a party. Mom told him he should stay. He insisted on leaving though.

He never came back. A few hours later, our cable was disconnected. Followed by our electricity.

He had canceled the plan to so as to force us to leave the home I grew up in. We were at my grandparents house, when the firetrucks drove by.

He broke in, stole all the money and his clothes, then light the place up.

Worst 24 hours ever.

When I was hospitalized by force during my worse years of depression.

Some time ago, when we went to another city for a concert with my friends, the concert lasted way longer than should have, I got into a fight with my parents, missed my fav band and came home in the middle of the night in a train full of drunk people and puke stains. What lit up the day was the handsome goth-dude who chatted with me and smiled and waved when he left the train d'aww.

On first grade, too afraid to ask teacher for a permission to go to the toilet and eventually pissing my pants.

During the years of fighting with my dad, after I found out about the things he had said about us, I called him, crying desperately. He laughed at me.

I got kidnapped while hitchhiking... scariest day of my life. The guy turned out to be a huge fucking nutcase even though he appeared respectable at first (had glasses and a suit on). I think I only survived that day because I managed to slip away while he wasn't looking, jack his car, and drive to someone's house where I broke through the front door and passed out, woke up in hospital 15 hours later.

My worst day was probably when I went over my friend's apt one night. She knew how in love with her I was, even though it had been unsaid for years. After some talking, she broke down and cried as she told me that she loved me too. However, it would never work, as I already knew, because she dates my best friend and will probably marry him.

The song "Sparks" was playing while she told me. I'll always associate it with that moment.

It was simultaneously the greatest and worst day of my life.

I've thought I had cancer a few times, mainly due to horrible anxiety and fear of death. I'm not normal by any stretch of the imagination. So yeah, those were shitty days.

Worst day? Probably whenever my mom's apartment got broken into by a former heroin addict she was trying to date. He obviously fell off the wagon, because he broke into the place while no one was there and stole a laptop, my Wacom tablet, me and my brother's PS2, Xbox, and a shitload of games.

The real kicker here is that my mom didn't get insurance on the apartment and none of that stuff got replaced until my brother used his work money. My mom barely covered the cost of anything that was stolen, even though she was entirely responsible.

Ever since then, I've always hated the police. They are useless. They never solve any crimes, never attempt to fix any situation, and do nothing besides ride around at obscure hours of the night to write people tickets.

I hate the anti-establishment bullshit with rap, but seriously, fuck the police.

I cant think of my worst day, but I can think of my most embarrassing.

I had to stay back for t-ball training when I was younger and really had to use the toilets. I had a phobia of school toilets because they were horrible, so I went for a piss in the bush.
Just as I was starting, a whole bus load of kids drove past. I remember everyone's heads turning around, laughing and pointing.

In one day, when I was a freshman in college, my truck's transmission completely shitted out, I was at the peak of a stomach flu, my Xbox's power brick caught on fire; and, worst of all, I was accused of plagiarism by a TA who was teaching a screen writing class.

I took the class because I needed to maintain 15 credits to keep a scholarship and I thought it would be fun, but it turned out to be a fucking nightmare. The investigation process lasted all the way into August, ruining my summer, and it was via email that I found out the case had been dropped. Fucking 'ell.

The day my father strung himself up. My big sister went downstairs to make breakfast for me and my older brother. We were three and seven respectively, and my sister was twelve. She was getting out something when she looked out the window to the back yard. Probably not a good idea, sweety. She lost the color in her face, and brought the curtain down. She led us to our room and told us to stay there while she called the police. We weren't quite sure what was going on, but hey! I thought policemen were awesome! Maybe they'd bring a firetruck! He picked up a book, rolled his eyes, and started reading. The policemen came, and we were still in our room. I wanted to run out and greet the policemen, but my brother stopped me. Our sister came in and said we should get dressed because she called our Aunt to pick us up. While we were driving away, my brother and I looked in the back yard and saw my dad hanging there. I can still remember that he was wearing the red shirt my mom had given to him on christmas, and the three policemen around him. My brother and I looked at each other, horrified, then turned away. We've never really talked about it.

Got drunk one night then went home with the girlfriend. She started bitching out about nothing, and after 30 minutes of her yelling at me, I slap her, then slit my arm from wrist to elbow. The cops show up and I take an ambulance ride to the ER, where I spend 5 hours without a cigarette. 60 stitches later, I get escorted to the psyc ward where I'm freaking out, because it's at night and the hallways are empty and I think I'm gonna run into some crazy fuck. Then, I spend the next 15 minutes talking myself out of a custodial stay.

It took me over a year after that to realise that my girlfriend was a bitch and deserved to be slapped.

Being like 4 years old and getting Hep B from a seedy burger joint. My damn parents should've sued, the stupid spics.

Got kicked out of school because the teacher and principal thought I was high, when in reality the symptoms they were complaining about were really from a neurological disorder I have had since early childhood.

I even went straight from school, to a lab to get an extended drug test which showed I was completely clean.

The neurological disorder is called Tardive dyskinesia, and it causes muscle ticks, which in me affects my eyes and neck (constant unsynchronized blinking, or tensing of my neck muscles). What made the day horrible is that I had always had to deal with kids making fun or questioning my ticks, and then to have teachers making fun of it and saying "well obviously it's drug induced, no normal person would have that happen on it's own".

The ticks get worse when I'm stressed, so that didn't help.