It just felt too big, too nebulous. I had no idea where to start. I kept putting it off and putting it off again, with no idea of what to do. I could have asked for help, but I didn't. How pathetic, I thought - every other student can manage to write one, but you need help? Just fucking put your head down and do it. But I didn't.
With 24 hours to go, I had nothing. So I found a dissertation on Google, and I went through and changed it enough that I thought I could get away with it. I didn't. I have a hearing in a few days, and I can't see any likely outcome other than being kicked out with no degree.
I haven't told anybody, besides a nice woman on the phone from Samaritans, because I didn't know who else to call. She didn't seem to know what to say though, and I can't blame her. What is there to say? You fucking idiot? How did you not ask anyone for help at any stage? Why are you the only person who can't fucking write their own dissertation?
I'm so ashamed. So so ashamed. I can't tell my friends. Students have fun at university, but I feel as though there is an unspoken contract that everyone can do so because they are all working hard. I have broken my contract, and I cannot admit it.
This shame pales in comparison to the shame I feel regarding my parents. I am dreading telling them more than anything. They have been nothing but supportive my entire life. They are wondeful people. They have given me so much help, sacrificed so much for me to get a good education, and I have spat in their faces. I am ashamed to be their son.

When I was 9 my older cousin (14) stayed with me and my family for a couple weeks. My cousin was a troublemaker and her parents had hoped that sending her to ours would keep her out of trouble for a little while.
One day while she was over I asked if we could go to one of our local forest areas and make a fire to roast marshmallows. When we got down there we made a little makeshift campfire out of newpaper and sticks all on top a rock. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I started chucking different things into the fire. Leaves, sticks, pinecones, anything I could find in the little area we were in. Then I wondered what a leaf on a tree would do if we set fire to it. My cousin got her lighter and lit a small leaf on a near by tree. I stared at the reaction in awe and my cousin set a group of leaves on fire. We laughed as we watched the fire slowly engulf the branch. Once the fire burnt itself out we carried on setting fire to bushes and branches and then we realised that the fire wasn't dying out. In fact it spreading.
My cousin started to freak out as she realised the fire wasn't stopping. The summer heatwave had made everything so dry that it was catching fire extreamly quickly. She grabbed my hand and we ran to the dirt road that was on the outskirts to the forest. But instead of calling 999 we just stood there. Watching it as it spread and spread and spread. My cousin almost called them multiple times but I kept telling her I didn't want to get into trouble so she never did. It had eventually spread so much that the fire department had trouble controlling it and had to order an evacuation of a nearby village. It was said to be the biggest fire the town had seen in 150 years. No one was hurt but it did take 10 hours to get under control.
It wouldn't have been as bad if hadn't stopped my cousin calling 999 when we first lost control. Both I and my cousin had promised not to tell a soul but 12 years on and my guilt is still here, I still feel terrible about it.

My parents divorced in second grade and something snapped inside of me. Every minor inconvenience in my life became worthy of a tantrum. Screaming at my parents telling them I hate them. Threatening to jump out of Windows. Once the cops even came to my house because I screamed so often my neighbors thought I was being abused. One day in third grade, I don't remember why, I snuck under my desk and into the backpack of the girl sitting across from me. I took her folder and put it in my bag. It was towards the end of class and she told our teacher who asked me to return it. I went into a rage screaming that I didn't steal it, and how dare she accuse me. I gripped my desk, and a security guard and my vice principal carried me out of my class as I kicked and screamed. I was sent to the principals office, where I kept screaming how I hated life, and I wanted to die, and I wanted my parents to die. My parents were called, and I was taken to a hospital where I spent the night, then the next morning I was carried, kicking and screaming into an ambulance. I remember my mom sitting there crying as I screamed every curse word I knew at her saying it was her fault, and I was going to pee myself if they didnt let me out. My time at the hospital they took me to was a blur, and when I was released I would be in therapy up until I graduated. I've always for some reason felt the need to defend myself saying it wasn't my fault and blaming everyone for freaking out on me. But I'm finally ready to say it. I stole her folder, and I was the one responsible for everything that happened after. Not my parents. Not the school. Not my classmate. I did it, and it feels so amazing to finally say it.

I used to work at the movie theaters as a manager about 9 years ago. This theater was super popular, brand new everything at the time, a bar, amazing sound and seating. Everytime a new movie would come out it would be stupid busy (im talking like twilight, ironman, the hangover, etc.) Pretty good movies.
This was before apps for theaters started being popular and we did have kiosk for people to pay on (card only) but 90% of the time they would up on the ticket counter.
I was in charge of closing out the registers at night, at first I was honest I would count out the drawers figure out what was earned, see if it was short or not and even out the drawer back to the start of the day (usually it was set up for $250)
After a while I noticed there was no security cameras in the ticket counter and there would be no way of seeing what was happening unless you where inside the booth. So I got curious...
One night while I was closing up I pocket 20 bucks, and wrote up off..nothing..so the following week I did it again...nothing again...and then I waiting on super busy movie nights when we would use 4 of the registers in the both and at closing I would take 40 from each and even the drawer back to $250.
Some busy nights I would walk out with about 250-300 dollars... and I was getting away with it ! No one never looked into the fact I was doing this! So I kept at it for 5-6 months.
I'm not sure how much I really took but I can with confidence say it was over 10k because I used it to put a down payment on a car.
I ended up quitting the job due to moving out of the state..And that was that, I was never caught.