TIFU Accidentally told a friend I’m looking for “the rapist” and I haven’t recovered emotionally

So. Here’s how I accidentally destroyed my social standing, emotional credibility, and probably any future group chat invitations in the span of one very cursed message.

I was having a relatively normal day. Nothing dramatic, just some mental fog, the usual background existential noise, and the creeping realization that maybe—just maybe—I could benefit from talking to a professional. You know, someone trained in helping you untangle the spaghetti mess of your thoughts without saying “same” and sending a meme in response.

So I decided to text my group chat. Not a massive group—just five friends I’ve known since college. We share everything: good news, memes, weird dreams, TikToks of ducks wearing hats. They’re my people.

I meant to type something like, “Hey, I’ve been thinking about seeing a therapist. Just feel like it might help to talk to someone about stuff, you know?” Casual, low-key, vulnerable in a “soft launch” kind of way.

What I actually sent was:
“Yeah, I think I need to finally talk to the rapist about all this.”

No context. No follow-up. Just that.

Now, normally, autocorrect is just a mild inconvenience. You fix the word, send an asterisk, maybe laugh it off. But this wasn’t a typo. This was an unintentional felony declaration. This was the kind of autocorrect fail that puts your name on a watchlist.

As soon as I saw what I sent, my soul left my body. You know that sensation when your stomach drops and your brain just whispers, “You will never recover from this”? That. Instant full-body cringe. I could feel my ancestors wincing.

The worst part? Everyone in the chat went dead silent.

Like, absolutely radio silence. I may as well have texted “BRB, committing a crime.” One person responded with just:
“???”

Another left me on read. I stared at my screen for a solid five minutes, sweating, mentally composing a follow-up… and then I just didn’t send one. Because what could I possibly say?

“Sorry, I meant therapist, not the rapist lol”?
No. That sounds like a joke a serial killer would make.
“Autocorrect messed me up”?
Feels like a lie at that point.
“I’m emotionally unwell and my keyboard betrayed me”?
Technically accurate, but also raises more questions than it answers.

So instead of clarifying, I did the mature, reasonable thing:
I ghosted.
Full. Digital. Vanish.

I haven’t opened that group chat in days. Every time I get a notification, I flinch. I’m convinced they’ve started a separate chat just to discuss how concerning that message was. They probably have screenshots. It’s probably titled “Watchlist.”

So now I’m spiraling.

Because on one hand, yes, I still need a therapist. Possibly now more than ever. On the other hand, I’m genuinely terrified I’ll sit down in session, try to explain what happened, and then combust from secondhand shame. Or worse, the therapist will pause, raise an eyebrow, and say “Ah yes, you’re the one from the meme.”

So yeah. That’s where I’m at.

I meant to say I needed help. I ended up sounding like I needed bail.
Pray for me. Or at least tell me this has happened to someone else so I don’t feel like I just set a new world record in social self-destruction.

Thanks for reading. I’ll just be over here softly deleting my digital presence and whispering “autocorrect is the real villain.”

TL;DR: I typed The rapist instead of therapist in my group chat.