Anonymous venting

First time doing this so bare with me.

I have a hard time forming connections with people, and when I do, I keep them at arms length. At first I thought I was just socially anxious I am but. The more I think about it and trauma around my past. I feel like if I form any deep connections with other people, I feel like if I expose my past (that's filled with abuse from family members) I believe they will take advantage of me or they'll view me as something that I know I'm not. But, feels confirming and believable, I feel like I am used and broken, and no one wants to hang out with a broken person like me so I just keep it in until it burst out and everyone stops and looks. "Like wow a stable guy in my life turns out to be a emotional loser." I don't vent to anyone and if I do it's just simple things in life to be negative about. But my trauma is borderline some kids edgy character backstory on deviantart. So in turn it's too much to handle. I feel too much to handle. I feel like I need to prove my worth over and over, like I am worth loving and given attention. But, some days I feel like an annoying abused dog, I get happy and I get excited when I see someone but if something triggers me I bark and bite. I feel too much and trying to get help, but with me always pushing away people I have no support group and just professionals that are just there to be professionals. I pushed away my recent ex because she hurt me but I feel like I ruined everything for getting hurt. I don't know, everything feels confusing but I know I will eventually get better but it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel, you know?

My life is not going well. I feel like I'm fat but I can't tell others because otherwise others will think I just want attention. Then my best friend (s) likes the same guy as me and everyone says that "S and T are perfect together, they should be girlfriend and boyfriend" and I just have to be there and agree with everyone else. It's hard when I hate S but at the same time I want to be his bff. I scolded myself a few days ago because my siblings keep suggesting that I'm fat, especially my older brother (E). The worst thing is that I'm being shipped with my crush's best friend (K). I feel like I'm just a side character in S's life. If I told others that I had a crush on T, others wouldn't take it well. 5.12.2024. I've tried to show my friends that I'm not feeling well. My real best friend (p) had seen my wounds on my arm but hadn't realized anything. We were talking about how some people cut themselves yesterday at dinner and I said "you shouldn't cut yourself, it feels painful." But I guess it never occurred to anyone at that table to think how I would know what it feels like. I'm happy it's Christmas. Now I can wear long shirts all the time to hide my wounds. I don't WANT to be s's best friend but if I wasn't his friend I would lose p because p wants to be both of our bffs

Trigger warning: Loss and suicidal thoughts.

Being a 29 year old male, I fucked up my life so far.

I had depression and aniexty from my adolescent years that's been with me to this day. My mental issues has stopped me from finishing my college education, dating and working for most of my adult life. At age 19 I dropped out of college and threw away my close friends to become a gaming recluse. My parents worried for my future but I just just wasted my days away, planning to end my life at age 25.

At 20 I started taking care of my grandma who watched me in my younger years. She was the only reason I stayed alive. I was paid by the state to care for her, so I spent the next 9 years of my life caring for her as I became a hermit. I was with her for 5 days of the week; taking her to appointments, bathing, cleaning, and just checking up with her often. She cared for me back by feeding me, hanging out watching movies, talked, and gave me a grandparents' love.

At age 25 I fought the urge to kill myself. I contemplated a long time if I should still carry out my plan. In the end, I decided not to because of my grandmother. Without me, she wouldn't have help to live her own life. Around this time I reconnected with my friends and life seemed better.

At age 26 I needed better Healthcare insurance, so I started working another job. I was prepared to fail, become a social outcast, and be judged for being a depressed mess. I was wrong. I was more capable than I though; I excelled at my tasks and spoke to both colleagues and clients reasonably well. Sure, I had awkward first interactions and conversations.. But it wasn't all the time.

At 27 I got into a car accident that gave me a concussion. I still suffer side effects from this injury to this day. I'm not as mentally fast, more forgetful, and can't intake information nor speech from others well. My life is still spiraling down from this; with some of the aforementioned effects worsening some days.

At 29 my grandma moved away to live with other family; my dad wanted his siblings to do their part as her kids and care for her too. She passed 3 months after moving away. 4 months after she passed I resigned from my job. My work stress, depression, and aniexty was at a all time high. I was unable to sleep, suffered from chest pains/eratic heartbeats from stress, couldn't socialize with others well, and was not getting any work done.

I regret this decision.

Sure, I feel mentally clear now, but having no income and not able to find a job is worsening my mental again. I tried trading futures recentl6 but I only lost money due to my impatience.

Nowadays, I don't want to wake up. I spend my days lazing around in bed as I apply for jobs, attempt trading but to only lose my meager savings, and try to think of reasons to live. My current reasons are for my family and friends.. I can't imagine what they'll go through if I ever commit.

I hope to find a job by January; that's when my funds will be dried up. Until then, I'll try to start back a routine and care for my physical health again. Maybe I'll try running again.

Thank you for reading.. Oh, and if this story was on TV, would you watch it? Do you think the main character will enjoy life again and find a job? I hope he does, I don't want this story to end soon.

Four months back, I found myself jobless after an unexpected layoff from a tech company. Having always taken pride in my work, this was a major blow to my self-esteem, and I've been grappling with a sort of identity crisis, discussing these issues with my therapist. However, I've always disliked idleness and yearned for the structure my routine job provided, which pushed me to start applying for new roles diligently. After several interviews that didn't result in job offers, I finally had a promising opportunity with a company I admired.

About a week ago, I received an invitation to participate in a time-sensitive written test as part of the job application process. Knowing my tendency to get nervous under pressure, I prepared intensively. I also emphasized to my husband, Henry, the importance of complete solitude during the hour-long test—I needed that duration uninterrupted. He seemed to have understood the crucial nature of my request.

On the day of the test, I secluded myself in our home office, the door firmly shut, hoping to ward off any disruptions. As the test progressed and the final fifteen minutes loomed, my anxiety peaked. Despite the intense preparation, I was under immense pressure to perform well. That's when Henry burst into the room muttering, "sorry ignore me ignore me." Panic set in as I tried to focus on my work, and I immediately asked him to leave. Instead, he began rummaging through the desk drawers, further invading my already frazzled concentration. Overwhelmed, I finally snapped, raising my voice to demand he leave immediately, which he did with a dramatic door slam.

After completing the test, I sought him out to apologize, explaining the stress I was under and reminding him of our agreement. However, Henry felt I had overreacted and couldn't grasp why I was making "such a big deal" out of his brief interruption. Now, over a day has passed, and he hasn’t let it go, still simmering with resentment.

In a scenario like this, had it been captured on a reality TV show, the scene might have been dramatically amplified. The cameras would have focused on the tension in the room, possibly even replaying the moment of my outburst multiple times. Viewers might have seen confessionals where each of us explained our side, adding to the drama. Reality shows thrive on these moments of intense emotion and misunderstanding, often blowing them up to entertain the audience. One might wonder if the audience would sympathize with my need for professional calm or lambaste me for my reaction under stress...

For starters, I am a 16 year old boy who has a lot of friends, plays football and I live with my mom, dad and older sister. I am 5’8 or so, and I have weight issues. Nothing crazy, I’m around 196 pounds but my big issue is that I have serious confidence issues. I think it’s derived from my friends making fun of my weight too often. I get hurt from them but I don’t know how to stop them. They just don’t seem to care about my feelings. But beside that, I feel alone in the love department. I have never kissed anyone let alone had a talking stage. But lately I have been hanging out one on one with this girl Isabel, who has been my childhood friend for nine years now, and I’ve liked her since I met her. I’ve never felt any way about anyone the way I feel about her, but she’s conventionally attractive. She gets so much attention from boys who look way better than me. On top of that she goes to these parties where everyone gets drunk and fuck around with each other if yk what I mean. We share such a deep connection and I’ve never shared such a connection with anyone else. I was planning on telling her I liked her, and right when I was, a kid on my football team went behind my back and started talking to her. By the time I wanted to ask, she was already making out with him. Meanwhile I am all alone in my room. It’s not even like I wanted to just make out with her. I just wanted to have someone to cuddle with. To care for, and to spend time with. Being alone is the worst thing I’ve ever felt and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I could drop my friends. But I can’t drop her. When I found out she was talking to my “friend” I told her how I felt on text while in my anger and then we stopped hanging out. That was 2 months ago. Recently she asked if we could hang out. Guess what we talked about, how the guy she was talking to treated her bad. I wish she could just see that none of those guys like her for her personality, or any of the things that makes her special, but simply because of her looks. But, after we hung out guess what, I start to like her again. And I think we will hang out again, but it just feels like I keep asking her and she doesn’t even return anything. We haven’t hung out in a bit and I hate it. I want to talk to her on the beach while listening to Mac Demarco like we used to, but no. She just won’t make time for me. I’m so unimportant to her. She will drop plans with me so she can do other things and go to parties and I hate it. I just want love. I hate being alone having no one to love or care for. She’s been stuck on my mind for so long and I just can’t get over her. I’m sick of it. It feels like she’s playing games with me and I’m so done with it. Why can’t she just like me. Why do I have so many uncontrollable things in my life? My height? My baby face? And my depression? I just need someone. I say I’ll push through it and that this is a sign to push myself and work on myself for myself. And it probably is. But I’m just eating like shit every day and I need to change that. I don’t know if this rant has even made sense or if anyone will read it but yea. That’s my story. Someone push me to change please. I hate being alone.

For the longest time, I’ve been stuck in this cycle of excuses. I’d wake up every morning telling myself I’d make changes, that today would be different, but by the time the day ended, I was back to square one. Whether it’s eating healthier, exercising, or even just cleaning my space, I keep putting it off. I’d tell myself, "I’ll start tomorrow," but tomorrow never seems to come.

Yesterday was my breaking point. I was scrolling through social media and saw an old friend post about running their first marathon. I remember how we used to run together, how much I loved it back then. And now? I can’t even jog up the stairs without feeling winded. It hit me like a ton of bricks—what am I even doing with my life? Why do I keep finding reasons to avoid what I know I need to do?

I looked around my apartment after that. Clothes piled up on the floor, dishes in the sink from who-knows-how-many days ago, and a gym membership card collecting dust on the counter. That’s when it finally clicked—it’s time to stop. It’s time to stop avoiding the hard stuff, time to stop pretending everything will fix itself, and time to stop being my own worst enemy.

I don’t have a perfect plan yet, and honestly, I’m scared I’ll slip back into my old habits. But I know I can’t keep going like this. If I don’t make a change now, when will I? Maybe writing this out will help me stay accountable. I don’t know who needs to hear this, but if you’re feeling stuck too, maybe it’s time to stop and take the first step. We’ve got this.

Hey everyone, I’m not usually one to air my personal stuff, but I really need some advice here. For the past few months, I’ve had this gut feeling that my wife might be cheating on me, and it's eating me alive. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the signs are starting to pile up, and I’m just not sure what to do.

It all started when she began staying late at work more often. At first, I didn’t think much of it—she’s always been dedicated to her job. But then, she became super protective of her phone. She used to leave it lying around, but now she keeps it close and seems to be on it all the time, even at odd hours. And when I casually ask about her day, her answers feel...vague? Like she’s hiding something.

Then there are the little things. She started dressing up more than usual, even just to “run errands” or meet friends. It’s almost like she’s trying to impress someone. I’ve tried to brush it off, telling myself I’m being paranoid, but every time I bring it up, she gets defensive or says I’m just being insecure. It makes me feel like maybe I’m overthinking, but part of me feels like my concerns are valid.

To make things worse, I found a receipt for a fancy dinner that she said was a "work thing," but I know her company usually doesn’t do dinners like that. I keep second-guessing myself, and now I’m stuck in this loop of anxiety. I don’t want to accuse her without solid proof, but I also can’t keep living in this uncertainty.

So here I am, asking for advice. Has anyone else been through this? How do you confront someone you love without it turning into a huge fight? Should I even bring it up again, or am I just being paranoid? Any advice would be appreciated—I feel like I’m losing my mind here.

I've come to the harsh realization that perhaps, I'm not the nicest person around. In my mid-thirties, I find myself surrounded only by a single friend and a girlfriend, yet I can't shake the feeling that I'm somehow superior to others. My lifestyle is quite reclusive; I shy away from any social gatherings related to work, and most of my routine revolves around my job, hitting the gym, smoking weed, and cycling. Traveling and cycling in the forest are my escapes, the rare times I don't feel swamped by depression.

Interacting with people, especially in groups, is a daunting task for me. The fear of turning red-faced and being judged negatively is always lurking. Thus, I avoid such situations altogether. There's a worrisome intensity in the way I live; I indulge too often in alcohol or getting high, viewing people merely as elements that enhance my own existence. My eyes wander too freely, admiring every attractive woman I come across, often blatantly flirting in the presence of my girlfriend. Even though these thoughts are never vocalized, I often catch myself belittling others or feeling utter disdain towards them internally.

I confess to being a staunch atheist, holding a disdainful view towards those who are spiritually inclined, believing myself to be smarter, better-looking, and stronger. The resentment builds whenever I see someone possessing what I desire, although I manage to keep this anger bottled up within.

Dominating these emotions is a profound sense of isolation, mixed oddly with a perverse comfort in wallowing in my misery. Sometimes, hurting my own feelings seems like a twisted form of pleasure, perhaps because it means feeling something at all.

My family background does little to lighten my outlook. My brother lives with the dark shadow of being a murderer and a former heroin addict. My father was a violent man, devoid of emotions, who ultimately took his own life. My mother, afflicted by illness so severe that she has been bedridden since my childhood, sparks a guilt within me for not taking care of her. However, I've chosen a path of self-preservation as dedicating myself to her care would consume my own existence entirely.

This life I've crafted for myself is one I despise, yet a part of me feels I shouldn't. With a good education, a well-paying job, and an undeniable appeal to women, I should feel fulfilled. Instead, I’m left feeling empty and, frankly, disgusted with myself for sounding like a self-pitying fool. What the hell is wrong with me?

Despite my efforts not to belittle others overtly, the impression that people don’t like me is hard to shake off. Loneliness is a constant companion.

If I were to join a reality show, my character might be polarizing. Would the audience appreciate my brutally honest introspections, or would they be repelled by my self-confessed arrogance and emotional detachment? It's intriguing yet terrifying to ponder how my persona would unfold under the constant scrutiny of cameras and a public audience.

I chose the friendship stories category but yeah it's related to friendship, love, family, work... I am like that.

I grew up in a very religious family where our faith has always guided our lives and choices. The teachings I’ve known my whole life tell me that being gay is wrong, and yet, I feel these undeniable attractions that make me question everything. I’ve tried to push it down, to change, to pray it away, but it’s always there, a part of me I can’t ignore.

I don’t know how to reconcile my beliefs with who I am. It feels like every day, I’m torn between two worlds: the expectations of my family and faith, and the reality of my own heart. Am I wrong for feeling this way? Is this something I can change, or should I even try? I’ve heard so many opinions, but deep down, I just want to know if I can truly be at peace with both my faith and myself.

If anyone has gone through something similar, or if you have advice, I’d really appreciate hearing from you. I feel so lost and alone in this struggle, and I just need someone to help me see a way through this.

Being a mom is the most rewarding and terrifying thing I’ve ever done. My little girl is only two years old, but every single day, I find myself wondering: am I doing enough? How to be a good mother when it feels like there’s so much to figure out?

Some days, I feel like I’m nailing it. We play together, she laughs at my silly songs, and I can see how happy she is. But then there are moments when I feel like I’m completely failing. Like yesterday, when I lost my temper because she spilled juice on the carpet after I told her three times not to run around with her cup. She cried, and it broke my heart because all I could think about was, “What kind of mom yells at a two-year-old over juice?”

I read parenting blogs and watch videos on how to raise happy, confident kids, but it’s overwhelming. There’s so much advice out there, and half of it feels contradictory. Be strict, but not too strict. Let them explore, but set boundaries. Make healthy meals, but don’t stress if they eat nuggets and fries once in a while. I’m trying to do it all, but is that even possible?

I see other moms who seem to have it all together—perfectly dressed kids, Pinterest-worthy lunches, and spotless homes. Meanwhile, I’m just proud if I can get her to daycare on time with matching socks. Sometimes, I wonder if they’re struggling too and just hiding it better.

I love my daughter more than anything, and I want her to grow up feeling loved, supported, and safe. But how do I know if I’m doing it right? Is there some magic formula on how to be a good mother, or is it just about showing up every day and doing your best?

If anyone has advice or has felt this way too, I’d love to hear it. I’m trying so hard, but some days it feels like I’m just fumbling through.