Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

Now we've had my Nan's funeral I've gone from feeling numb and depressed to feeling

every think all at one and crying and not being able to each any of my favorite TV shows.

dose it ever get better

I'm in a bit of a bind here, fellas. My wife has just entered the whirlwind stage of menopause, and I'm standing like a deer caught in headlights. I mean, we've been through life's ups and downs together, but this one caught me off guard. It's like a roller coaster, and I’ve come to the stark realization that I don’t have a clue about how to be of any real help. I want to be there for her, but all I seem to do is put my foot in my mouth. I read somewhere that patience is key, but how much patience is enough? Is there some kind of magical guidebook for husbands out there? Trust me, I’m all ears if anyone cares to share it. This said, the mood swings are no joke. It feels like one minute we're reminiscing about old times, and the next, I'm in the doghouse for God knows what. Not to be insensitive, but even dogs need a break. I just want to wave a flag that says, "I'm trying, okay?" It's frustrating to be stuck in this losing battle where you’re trying to help, but everything you do just seems to miss the mark. “Persistance is key,” they say, but what does that even mean when you’re walking on eggshells?

In my humble opinion, someone should really write a “Menopause for Dummies” book with a special section just for us poor husbands trapped in this new reality. I keep hearing suggestions like "be understanding" and "just listen," but sometimes I wonder, are those just words thrown around, or do they actually mean something deeper? After all, you can’t exactly listen when the house feels like it's under siege. It's like I’m halfway through a Netflix series called "Midlife Chaos," and there’s no option to skip the episodes. Am I being overly dramatic? Perhaps. But surely, others in my shoes are feeling a similar kind of, let's say, discomfort. At 53, I thought I'd encountered most of life's surprises, but menopause is a whole new beast. If there’s a cheat code out there, I would be forever grateful. And hey, what does “be the rock” even mean when I’m feeling like a pebble myself? Maybe I’m just ranting into the void here, or perhaps someone out there can offer a lifeline. So, to my fellow clueless husbands: how are you holding up, and what’s working (if anything)? 🤔

I never thought i would be the person writing something like this, but here i am, typing late at night because sleep keeps avoiding me!! My wife cheated on me, and saying that sentence still feels unreal!! We have been together for eleven years, married for seven, and most days were normal, boring even, but safe!! I found out by accident, not by snooping like in bad movies, but because she left her email open on our shared laptop!! I wasn’t even looking for anything, just trying to pay a bill, and there it was, a thread that felt like it was screaming at me!! I remember my hands shaking, my chest tight, and this strange calm that followed, like my brain shut off to protect me!! She admitted it when i asked, didn’t deny it, didn’t cry much either, which hurt in a different way!! I keep replaying that moment, wondering if i missed signs, if i was too distant, too quiet, too predictable?? Maybe i was boring, maybe i stopped trying, or maybe it really had nothing to do with me at all?? People say cheating is a choice, and i believe that, but it still doesn’t stop the self doubt!!

Since then, everything feels slightly off, like living in a house where the walls moved an inch overnight!! We are trying to talk, slowly, politely, like two coworkers afraid of saying the wrong thing!! Some days she is kind and patient, other days she seems tired of my sadness, and i don’t fully blame her!! I find myself remembering small moments from our past, dumb jokes, road trips, the way she used to fall asleep during movies, and i wonder which parts were real and which were already broken!! I also think about the other person, not with anger all the time, but with curiosity, which i hate admitting!! What did they have that i didn’t?? Was it just timing?? I try to stay balanced, not painting her as a villain or myself as a saint, because life isn’t that clean!! I wasn’t perfect, i know that, i checked out emotionally sometimes, work drained me, and i stopped sharing my thoughts!! Still, cheating feels like dropping a bomb instead of knocking on the door!!

Now i’m stuck in this loop, deciding whether to stay or leave, and both options scare me!! Staying means rebuilding trust from almost nothing, and leaving means starting over in my late thirties, which feels exhausting!! Friends give advice, but everyone speaks from their own story, not mine!! Some say forgive, some say run, and i just nod because i don’t have answers!! I try to focus on basic things, eating, walking, working, but my mind drifts back every time!! I’m not looking for validation or drama, just understanding, maybe from strangers who won’t judge too fast!! Have you ever loved someone and still felt completely alone next to them?? How do you stop your thoughts from circling the same pain over and over?? If you’ve been here, what helped you breathe again!! I’m listening, even if i don’t reply right away!!

Ever feel like you're just a speck of dust in the universe, unnoticed and unimportant? like, you go through your day, and it's as if no one gives an ounce of thought about you? 🙄 let's start with my family, the people who are supposed to be my ride or die, right? wrong. they act like they care, but when was the last time any of them stopped, took a moment out of their busy lives, and actually reached out? it feels like forever and a day. instead, they're caught up in their own whirlwind of drama and issues, completely neglecting the fact that I might actually need someone to lean on. it's as if checking in on me isn't on their to-do list. and my friends... or whatever you'd call them. relationships feel so transactional these days. it's not like they give a rat's ass about what's going on with me unless there's a benefit for them in the picture.

then I start to wonder, am I the problem here? is there some kind of vibe I'm giving off that screams "keep your distance"? or am I simply expecting too much from people who are just as messed up as everyone else? it baffles me how they can continue living in their bubble, completely oblivious or indifferent to what's happening around them. maybe it's the rise of social media and digital clutter? we're so glued to our screens that meaningful connection is taking the back seat. it makes me question if empathy is becoming extinct 🙄 or am I just surrounded by people devoid of genuine human emotion?

sometimes I think about speaking up, letting them know how I feel like a ghost in my own life, but then I think... what's the point? i hate putting myself out there only to be met with an awkward "oh, i'm so sorry" before the topic changes faster than a bitcoin price. is it even worth it? it shouldn't be this hard to feel like someone actually cares, should it?? in a world where we have the capability to connect with someone on the other side of the globe in seconds, why do the people right next to me seem so far away??? i'm fed up with feeling like an afterthought, a barely-there blip on people's radar. so tell me, have you ever felt like this? do people really care, or are we all just prisoners in our own self-absorbed minds??? 🤔

So yeah, I am here because my head is kind of noisy and I don’t really know where else to put this. I have a new girlfriend now, it has been like two months, which is not super long but not nothing either, you know. She is nice, really kind, and honestly way more patient than I probably deserve. But here is the thing that keeps poking me in the brain at random times, usually late at night when I should be sleeping. I still have photos of my ex on my phone. Not printed or framed or anything dramatic, just old pics sitting there in my camera roll, mixed in with screenshots and food photos and dumb memes. I don’t even look at them on purpose, but sometimes I scroll too far back and boom, there we are, smiling like everything was fine. It makes my stomach drop a little. I am not missing her exactly, I think, but I am also not fully sure. It feels rude to my current girlfriend, even though she has no idea. I keep telling myself they are just memories, like old clothes you forgot in a drawer. But then I think, is that just an excuse to avoid doing something uncomfortable?

I try to be reasonable about it, like a normal adult, but I kind of fail at that a lot. My ex and I were together for years, and deleting those photos feels like erasing a chunk of my life, even if that chunk ended badly and with a lot of awkward silence. Some of the photos are boring, like us on a couch, but others are from trips or random good days where the sun was out and we laughed for real. I know keeping them does not mean I want her back, but it also does not feel super clean either. My new girlfriend talks about honesty a lot, and I nod and agree, and then I feel a bit fake inside. I have not lied, but I have not told the full truth either. I once tried to delete the photos, like actually started selecting them, and my finger froze like I was about to touch a hot stove. I felt silly, like why is this so hard, they are just pixels. Then I stopped and went to make a sandwich instead. Very brave of me. I keep wondering if this makes me a bad boyfriend or just a human one.

I guess what I am really stuck on is whether deleting them is for her, or for me, or just to look like a good guy on paper. I do not want to hurt anyone, I really don’t, and I am trying to be polite to everyone involved, including past me. At the same time, I don’t want to drag old stuff into something new and possibly good. Sometimes I think I should delete them as a sign that I am moving forward, like closing a door gently instead of slamming it. Other times I think it is okay to keep them tucked away, not because I am holding on, but because life happened and it is okay to remember it quietly. I feel unsure most days, and I second guess myself a lot, which is kind of my brand at this point. So I am asking you, random kind reader, what would you do? Would you delete the photos out of respect, or keep them and trust yourself to not live in the past? Is there a right answer here, or am I just overthinking a very normal thing like I always do?

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.

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.

Got lots of love to give but no one wants to have it. They want the toxic ones.

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.