Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

Hiyo ! How are y'all doing doing ? I've come here to vent yet again. I'm putting in a PSA real quick to tell you that it's going to get a bit heavy and lengthy, so please click off if you're not up for it. With that out of the way, here's my vent.

My mom recently intiated a conversation with me. By that point, I was keeping my distance from her for months in hopes that she wouldn't be as surprised that I would leave the house one day and not contact her as well as the rest of the family and not getting bombarded with calls and mesages from them. She opened the conversation with the fact that she had a dream where we were together with my grandma, and at some point, grandma disappeared, leaving behind a note that says "reconcile with each other". My mom then said that passed loved ones are still there watching over us, and that she believed that grandma was sending her a message through her dreams (and thinking about it, I think that it really was just her guilt eating at her, but I can't be too sure). She finally ended that first bit with "if you have things that you are angry with me about, you can tell me."

At first, I was silent because one, I didn't really believe she'd actually listen to me, two, I thought (still do) that she was doing this in an effort to drag me back in to get me to interact with her like I used to (act like everything's fine, and when a conflict arises that either she or stepdad initiate, stay silent and never actually adress it later) and three, because I was contemplating waving her off. But I then I also thought that this could be an opportunity to address things that she did throughout the years, so I went through with it anyway.

I'm kind of nervous to talk about the first point, but I still want to have a chance on having clarity, so here goes. The first thing that I adressed was her and bio dad bringing me in a place to get needles inserted in my head. I don't know how far they went, but I ended up getting scabs on my scalp years later, and since I've had chronic skin picking since I was a kid, I picked on those. Anyway, when I mentioned it, the first thing she asks me is "you're mad about that ?" like she was almost about to laugh. I'm like "well, yeah, this thing hurt and I cried a lot because of this, why wouldn't I be ?". I was probably like, 4 or 5 from what I remember. She then explained to me that they brought me there because I apparently didn't talk a lot apart from a few words. She also explained to me that I actually had an acupuncture done on me, and that I had this done on me for at least 6 times. To this, I'm have mixed feelings because okay, it touches directly into my health, and it's normal for parents to worry about their kid's health. At the same time, I have this nagging feeling that something still doesn't feel right because of the size of the needles. Maybe it was really because I was little, but I remember them being a little bigger from standard acupuncture needles, and that it was done in a remote area. I'm not even sure if the guy that did it to me was actually a qualified person to do it. At the same time, I also read somewhere that acupunctures can hurt if they're bigger, inserted forcefully and it depends on the brand of needles. I really don't know how to feel about this.

The second point was, I noticed that my mom was chatting on the phone with a cousin that tried to r*pe me and even had a selfie with him even after I told her about it, but I didn't want to assume and I was hoping I was wrong. So I simply asked her if she was still talking to him. She was silent for a second before telling me that yes, she did. She then explained that she asked him about it and told him to stop doing that, and apparently he said okay...I am disappointed in her. So much. I'm going to be harsh, but what the hell was she thinking ? Just because you ask him to stop, you think he's actually going to stop and not do it to another girl in the family ? He attempted to SA your daughter, you learn about it from your daughter, and the first thing you think to do is ask him to stop instead of, I don't know, notifying authorities beacuse there's a literal predator in the family ?? Tbf, I just told her about the attempted assault and not the fact that I noticed from the corner of my eye that this guy, who was 20 while I was 17, was preying on me the moment he saw me, but still ! It's messed up regardless of me telling her about that part or not ! Sadly, I can't say I'm too surprised by it, because seeing her husband trying to pinch or slap her daughter's butt apparently doesn't alarm her because "it's just a joke".

Anyway, I didn't tell her about how disappointed and not surprised I was by that revelation. I just moved on to my third point, which was to ask her why she yelled at me for things I did that were ultimately inconsequential to her and why she criticized me about my physique, my way of being or my clothing style. To give you an example, not too long ago, I had an end of the year ceremony in college to attend to. I was planning for an outfit to wear when my mom called me over so that she could give me an outfit. Seeing that I honestly didn't want the clothes that she proposed to me, I politely told her no and went back in my room to continue to look for outfits in my closet and drawers. That's when she comes in, vexed and asking me why *I* was vexed. Tbf, I did walk out a little too strongly and fast for my liking, but I really wasn't. Anyway, I point out that, no, she's the one that's vexed that I said no, not me. She eventually tells me that I have to "honor" stepdad (yuck) because he would come with me to that ceremony and that my clothes are ugly. Mind you, the clothes that I have in my closet are clothes that stepsister, stepdad and her have bought me throughout the years, so I think it's jarring for her to say that.

I tell her all about that, and of course, she tells me she doesn't remember that happening ! She also tells me that she surely wanted me to be presentable the day of, and I was like "no, you were vexed that I said no, mom. You wanting me to be presentable doesn't make it okay to say that my clothes are ugly." I also tell her about a couple of other things among the numerous incidents of her yelling at me , which I'm not going to site because this vent is already long as it is. I ask her if she thinks it's normal for a parent to yell at their kid for the most minor things a kid could do. She starts answering something about "you know, you gotta know to forgive, even to your worst enemy". There's this back and forth where I keep asking her if it's normal for a parent to do that while she keeps answering that.

At the conclusion of this conversation, she "apologizes for everything she's done" and asks if I forgive her and if we could make up. I tell her that no, and explain that with everything that she's done, there's no way I'm letting her back in my life because what happened was detrimental for the mental in the long run. She kept insisting on getting me to tell her that I forgive her. At some point, she tells me that if I don't forgive, even my grandma and God wouldn't forgive me (in hindsight, I'm still baffled that she even dared to talk about my grandma like that and consequently, I felt forced to say that I forgive her so that she leaves me alone), but I insisted that I'd keep my distance from her. She eventually says that she regrets that she didn't bring me to church more when I was able to retain the teachings, which internally only made me glad that I didn't get the religious trauma flavor upon everything else.

With this ends this vent. I hope y'all have a great day/evening/night and I'll see you later !

i found out two weeks ago that my husband’s cancer is not just bad, it is the kind of bad where doctors lower their voices before they say anything. we have been married three years, which sounds like a tiny number when someone starts talking about “weeks” like they are coins in a jar. he has a dangerous cancer, almost at the final phase, and everyone is being careful with their words, which somehow makes it worse. nobody says “he is leaving soon” out loud, but it sits in the room anyway. i recieve updates, nod, ask practical stuff, then cry in the parking lot until my face feels like it belongs to somebody else. i keep wondering why crying gives you a headache, because mine is constant now. it feels like my skull is packed too tight, like my brain is pushing on the walls and my head will explode.

he is still himself in little ways, which is sweet and awful at the same time. he complains about hospital food, tells me my driving is still scary, and asks me to stop hovering like a weird little security guard. i laugh when he says it, but then i go to the bathroom and cry again, because laughing feels almost rude when the ending is standing right there. we are spending these last weeks together while we can, doing basic things, not dramatic movie stuff. we sit on the couch, watch dumb shows, argue about what to eat, and sometimes just hold hands without talking. i am definately grateful for that, even if it hurts. there is no villain here, not really. the doctors are doing what they can, his body is just tired, and i am trying to not make every second about my panic. still, i cry alot, and every cry leaves pressure behind my eyes like a bill i have to pay.

the headache is starting to feel like a second person in the marriage, just sitting between us. i drink water, take medicine when i can, put cold towels on my forehead, and tell myself this is normal. maybe it is. maybe crying this much just dries you out, tightens your face, messes with your sleep, and turns grief into pain you can point at. does this happen to your too, where the sadness stops being just emotional and becomes this heavy physical thing? i don’t want pity exactly. i know people go through worse, and i know my husband is the one actually sick, not me. but being the person watching is its own kind of damage. i love him, i am scared, i am tired, and i keep wiping my face so he does not have to spend his last weeks watching me fall apart;

Hi! I'm not sure how to do this but I really have to get this off my chest. I was video calling with my girlfriend and out of nowhere she said "I'm gonna go" and hung up. She's been doing pretty bad lately and I've been doing my best to help but I feel like it's not enough, like I'm not enough. I was terrified she was gonna do something to herself so I asked if she was okay and where did she go- no answer. I waited and then I called and texted. And basically I've been doing that the whole night, haven't gotten any sleep. I'm terrified of losing her, I thought she was the one. At the same time though I saw she was active on snapchat so I calmed down a bit. Still haven't slept. And I hate to say this but I am so mad at her. Like why is she ignoring me? If I did something wrong I'd want her to tell me. I don't want to stay up all night worrying about her. I hate this. What do I do?

Unfortunately for me, I want to be a creative person full time. There's been a series of attempts.

1 - Animation

I was a grade A student in high school and took lots of AP's including AP art and design. My councilors said with my grades my state's flagship school would be a good safety school and the Ivy's where a reasonable reach. She was wrong about that and it's all been downhill from that conversation. Long story short I couldn't get into an art school with a scholarship. I went to the ONLY state school to accept me, could never get an internship all 3 years (had enough AP's to graduate early), and graduating with my degree in animation at the top 10% of my class with a portfolio reviewed by and references from 2 emmy award winning animation professors didn't mean anything to studios. I would go to networking and hiring events, portfolio and resume reviews, talk to recruiters, get referrals, even move to LA. All for 0 job offers after years of trying.

2 - Design

While I was trying to get into animation I worked a graphic design job. It didn't pay enough, especially for LA, so I beefed up my college portfolio to highlight my motion design stuff and started applying. A year passed with no interviews and I got laid off. I got a certification in UX/UI design and applied there too. Another year passed. I assure you - whatever job advice you have (talk to recruiters, send out 100s of applications, tailor your applications, ask your dad to get you a job) - I did it! Multiple times. No luck.

3 - Self Employment

Throughout this entire stint I would have side hustles I tried (and failed) to get off the ground. I tried to be a gallery artist. Sold one drawing. Had a painting featured at the High Museum of Art. Did some local art fairs (and sold nothing). Absolutely no one else ever cared about representing my work despite it. Okay. Cool. There was an online original painting business - no sales. Online art prints - 10 sales in 2 years. Art on stuff (notebooks, zipper pouches, etc.) - 7 online sales and I made money at in-person markets but never enough to break even on the booth fee. Alright; fabulous.

4 - Marketing

After my layoff year from the graphic design job I got a job as a marketing operations coordinator - so not even doing the marketing. Just fetching virtual coffee so other people could do it. I decided to lean in. If art doesn't want me, maybe money will! I learned as much about marketing as I could to apply it to a future business attempt. I got my PMP certification and applied to project management jobs. You can probably guess how well this went.

5 - Self Employment Take 4 (current)

I still work that marketing job. My company laid off everyone but me and my boss' boss. The company is in shambles so there's not really a clear job for me right now other than sending bills to accounting. So artistic. So fulfilling. If I have to talk to META customer service one more time I'm going to crash out. Since the lay offs at the job I've been applying elsewhere to almost no avail. I had 3 rounds of interviews including one with the CEO for a better paying marketing job!!! They then paused hiring. Seems both art and money don't want me. I've started another business - a stationery shop. 11 sales in 5 months - so the marketing knowledge is helping me do a lot better. But I had a collection launch today to crickets that sent me into a bit of a spiral.

THE DILEMA

I keep trying as MUCH and as HARD as I can to make my career cooperate. It just refuses to go my way. Any advice I can find online assumes I haven't tried, didn't do some obvious thing, or some empty motivational platitudes like "you haven't quit until you stop trying (like as if I don't have bills to pay)" is going to help. I've started therapy and my therapist is very helpful on everything else - but on this topic he tends to tell me to just follow my dreams. I feel like he has to watch me show up every day and sponsor events for promotion and work with influencers for marketing and post to 5 social media platforms every day and start a mailing list and start a youtube channel and read marketing books and go to webinars by my local SCORE mentors (all things I'm doing BTW) and yet still make 0 progress after keeping this up for a year to understand what I'm talking about. There is NO lack of trying - but nothing ever works. I just can't seem to be a full time creative. I can't even do plan B and make enough money for an apartment. I don't know what else to do or how to deal with these feelings. I'm always searching for some kind of solution, but the truth is it takes hard work, time, and luck to be successful and luck is just not on my side at the moment. To anyone who read all this - how do you manage to live your life knowing what you truly want isn't coming to you? How would you stay motivated in business 4 and somehow believe it's going to work after all the previous failures? What am I doing wrong? Is this normal?

you know, I've been cruising around on this application a lot, and I've seen tons of folks saying "this too shall pass," but honestly, I don't 100% get it, like, is it some existential thing or just a fancy phrase to throw around when stuff hits the fan? 🤔 I've seen it on different threads, and it's like an invisible hand trying to pat people on the back when they're down, but does it really work that way? it makes me think: is there a magic moment when you know things are finally over, like some official "passing" ceremony? It's a bit funny, isn't it? when stuff is bad, we kind of hold onto this phrase like it's gonna save the day or something. but then again, when things are good, we're all hoping they don't "pass" like the good times should just hang around forever. It's like needing assurances that bad times are temporary while secretly praying the good stuff stays put. 🙃 Then again, I remember someone said "these too shall pass" while quoting that ancient king who wanted a phrase that'd put things into perspective irrespective of a situation; isn't it wild how something from way back then is like, still relevant now? Our great-grandparents probably even used that line, and now here we are, borrowing from their wisdom. So, maybe it's not about timing but how we perceive situations and hold onto hope; or, is it more about prepping ourselves to ride the ups and downs without freaking the heck out?

In a day-to-day setting, it's helpful in giving people assurance and making them feel like there's a light at the end of the tunnel, but with a seemingly perpetual cycle of passing and waiting for new days or events to occur, how do you stay grounded? sometimes I wonder if it's the world's way of saying also "hey, don't get too comfy," like a gentle nudge that life's dynamic and unpredictable, and that maybe no state of being is set in stone. And then, there are those people who casually drop "this too shall pass" as if they've got some golden master-key for all life's locks, and it makes me chuckle 'cause it's like, no one actually has the entire rule book for surviving life's storms, right? It's like we're all kindergartners in the grand school of life. Plus, the word "pass" sounds so passive and laid-back, almost like we're waiting for a magical transformation that requires no active participation, which is kind of comforting yet peculiar at the same time. Perhaps needing a phrase or philosophy that just sits with you on rough days without leaving a mark can be a strong enough testament to its value. "this too shall pass," even if not instantly comprehensible in its entirety, may indeed hold the soothing balm of enduring hope bundled in mere words, like a lifeline extended through time; and, wouldn't it be crazy if understanding its meaning was less about comprehension and more about how it feels? Seriously, stick those words somewhere prominent and let time scribe their meaning onto your soul with experience. just curious though: how do you guys see it? does it resonate like a silent companion during tough times, or does it all just seem overrated and blown out of proportion, in your opinion? 🤔 because sharing these phrases, seeking clarity, and expanding our grasp could be the start of untangling the threads of such enigmatic maxims. anyways, take care and good luck with the unraveling of life's chaos.

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.

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.

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 never thought I’d end up here, but here I am, dreading every single morning when my alarm goes off. I hate my job. There, I said it. I’ve tried to convince myself that it’s just a phase, that everyone feels like this sometimes, but it’s been almost a year, and nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

The work itself isn’t even that bad. I mean, it’s not what I’m passionate about, but it’s tolerable. The real problem is the people. My boss is one of those micro-managers who has to be involved in every tiny detail. No matter what I do, it’s never good enough. I’ll spend hours on a project, only for them to nitpick and make me redo the whole thing for no real reason. It’s exhausting and makes me feel like all my effort is pointless.

Then there’s the office culture—or lack of it. Nobody talks to each other unless it’s about work. Lunch breaks feel like detention, with everyone silently eating at their desks or scrolling through their phones. I tried to make friends when I first started, but everyone already seemed to have their little cliques. After a while, I just gave up.

What really gets to me, though, is the constant pressure. It’s like they expect us to give 110% all the time, but they don’t give anything back. Overtime is practically mandatory, but don’t expect a “thank you” or even acknowledgment for staying late. And forget about a raise or promotion—that’s a pipe dream. It’s hard not to feel bitter when you’re working so hard and getting nothing in return.

I keep telling myself I should just quit, but it’s not that simple. I’ve got bills to pay, and the job market isn’t exactly booming right now. Plus, there’s this tiny voice in the back of my head that keeps asking, “What if the next job is just as bad—or worse?” It’s like I’m stuck in this cycle where I hate my job, but I’m too scared to leave.

Even at home, I can’t seem to escape it. I’m constantly checking emails or stressing about the next deadline. It’s like my job has taken over my entire life, and I don’t know how to take it back. My family keeps telling me to just hang in there, but they don’t understand how draining it is. By the end of the day, I’m too tired to even think about applying for other jobs, let alone pursuing something I actually enjoy.

Sometimes, I wonder if it’s me. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this kind of work. Or maybe I’m being ungrateful because at least I have a job. But then I think about how miserable I am, and I can’t help but feel like there has to be more to life than this. Doesn’t there?

If anyone else feels this way, I’d love to know how you’re coping—or if you’ve managed to get out, how did you do it? Right now, I just feel stuck, and honestly, it’s hard to see a way forward. All I know is, I can’t keep living like this. Something’s gotta give.