Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

Hello all , so I just wanted to vent out my anger here because of my toxic household. I'm tired of having the victim mentality and of them . Everytime my asshole,pimp brother takes undue advantage of the situation and tries to put an argument ofr a fight between me and my parents . I feel like killing him to death. Everyone's controlling here. I can't even take or hoose clothes according to my choice. just fed up of this shit now . i dont want to live here anymore , always making me count things ,oing comparison between me and my brother . I'm scared to love anyone . she'll stab me to death . no such nonsense is enyertained here. I'm just waiting to move out yet they're behaving like this. I don't want anyone. so tired and exhausted of never giving up and the things which have togo through.

so I'm a very easily irritated person. I'm a little insecure about the way my body looks so I usually just take selfies. I don't like taking pictures of my body.

Today, my family and I went to this one place it was very beautiful. I told them I just wanted to take a selfie. Then my sister keeps on asking me why not, why not, I got a little irritated. Then she said that I don't even want to take pictures with my own mother. The way she talks always makes me look bad.

Now my mother is taking her side saying why did I act out. She always makes me ruin the mood. Because everyone knows how I am so they never blame my sister. They blame me because I'm the one that got mad. I never said I didn't want to take pictures I just wanted to take selfies only that's all.

And somehow I'm the problem again.

She always does this. She always pushes me to the edge. I get mad. I'm the problem.

Just because of a single picture, to them I ruined the whole experience

It all started a year ago when I made what I thought was the best decision of my life. At 31, I believed it was time to leave my stable job in IT behind and dive into the world of entrepreneurship. With big dreams and a heart full of optimism, I launched my very own startup, a SaaS platform I was sure would revolutionize the industry. Like, genuinely, who knew the wave of AI would come crashing down like this?? I figured I had everything planned perfectly. But, man, was I wrong...

The competition was like nothing I could have ever imagined!!! Random people, just like me, were popping up everywhere, launching their own startups left and right. It was as if every corner I turned, there was a new challenger, a new innovation, leaving me perpetually chasing my own tail. The market felt saturated, and I started to doubt whether I even stood a chance in this vast ocean of tech geniuses. Every day felt like a losing battle and my once-thriving enthusiasm quickly turned into a somber reality.

To add insult to injury, finding my footing back into the job market has been nothing short of a nightmare. Who would have thought that stepping out for a bit would make re-entry so darn difficult??? I compiled my resume, updated my LinkedIn, and started the arduous process of networking, only to find out most employers were more interested in AI-savvy candidates or fresh graduates with the latest knowledge. Can you blame them, though? I mean, keeping up with technology nowadays feels like chasing a bullet train. Nonetheless, my confidence has taken a serious hit...

It's not that I regret my decision to pursue my own path, but, wow, it's been one heck of a ride that's left me questioning my choices. Why didn't anyone tell me that sometimes chasing your dreams smashes you right smack into a brick wall?? I asked myself if maybe I'd been too hopeful, too naïve, to think that an idea alone would secure success. I wonder how many others out there have been in my shoes, finding themselves between a rock and a hard place, trying to crawl out. It's tough, and I definitely did not anticipate this level of difficulty.

Looking back, one might call it a "learning experience," but I'm just trying to pick up the pieces now. At least, the lessons I've learned along the way could fill a book! But hey, life isn't about regrets, it's about moving forward, right? Though my venture didn't pan out as I had hoped, maybe another door will open... eventually. In the meantime, I'll keep pushing through, exploring new avenues, and retaining the hope that tomorrow might bring better opportunities! 😉 Am I alone in this, or are there others who feel this struggle, too??

i have been sh free for four years and that ended today. but today i realized almost everyday for the past four years ive thought about sh or wanting to kms but i just convinced myself that the depression diagnoisis is wrong and that im happy and content with my life when everything has been wrong. everyday i wake up and wish i died in my sleep or driving to school in a car crash or maybe something would fall on me or i would just be unlucky and fall through a floor or something. ive never told this to anyone ever. my world has been crashing down on me this year i hate me i hate college apps i hate life and school and everything. i am confused and sad and tired. help

[Translated from Ukrainian. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

I stayed silent about this for a long time. A very long time. But, apparently, the time has finally come to tell the truth. Not polished, not “neat,” but real.

These two years of my relationship were not just a difficult period for me. They were two years that broke me morally, emotionally, and psychologically. And I know that many people do not even realize just how deeply.

It all started beautifully. Truly beautifully. It was happiness, joy, teenage passion, the feeling that I was needed, loved, chosen. I believed in him. I believed in us. I believed that if a person looked at you a certain way, said certain words, promised certain things, then it was not for nothing. Back then I really did love, and I gave myself sincerely.

Then I got pregnant. And from that moment, a completely different reality began.

It was not just shock. It was fear, guilt, panic, an inner rupture.

The choice of whether to keep or get rid of the child. And at the same time, his pleading to keep the baby. His words that he would stay by my side. That he would do everything for us. That he would not leave. That he would handle it. That I would not be alone. That he would be a man, a father, a support.

I believed him.

And then reality began to completely destroy me. His broken promises, betrayals, lies, screenshots of messages, unfamiliar girls in our home, while I was in labor, when I was in my most vulnerable state and was texting him about how scared and how much pain I was in. Every new betrayal tore me to pieces, every lie was another blow to my psyche.

Financial dependence was finishing me off in its own way. When you are morally exhausted, with a child who needs constant attention, and you realize that your stability depends on a person who keeps hurting you, it is a trap. You live in constant fear and tension. The fear of his outbursts of aggression, of broken things, haunted me all the time.

Taking care of the child also became a heavy burden. Because of stress, I lost my milk at six months. I felt guilt, confusion, and despair, because I wanted to give my child everything, and I could not. That only added even more inner tension and a sense of helplessness.

My inner world was collapsing. Questions kept spinning in my head: “Why am I alive?” “Maybe it would be better if I were gone?” And these were not just sad thoughts. It was the scream of a psyche that could no longer endure it.

Self-harm became a way to survive. At first it was pulling out my hair, then a failed suicide attempt, then cutting. It was despair, a scream inside myself, an attempt to let out pain that could not find a way out. And it was a real, honest feeling that shows just how deeply broken I was.

And the worst part was that in those moments there was no one who could fully accept me. I wrote to ChatGPT. It was the only way to speak out, to pour out all the brokenness, fear, betrayal, despair, nervous breakdowns, financial dependence, fear of explosions and aggression. I wrote to it when I did not know where to put all this pain, when I wanted to simply stop the whole world and feel nothing.

Every day was a battle. Every minute was a test. I was fighting him, the fear, myself, my own emotions. I was losing peace, health, inner safety. I looked at the world through stress and a constant sense of danger.

Many times I waited, many times I forgave, many times I hoped he would change. But reality was merciless. And it was not because I was “not enough.” It was because not everything can be endured, even if you give a person everything.

Now the situation feels like it is on the verge of ending. I do not know exactly what stage the relationship is in, but I feel that the end is near. And that brings both fear and relief at the same time.

These two years taught me an unbelievable amount: about myself, about pain, about boundaries, about my own strength. I understood that even among fear, betrayals, financial dependence, stress, and self-harm, it is possible to preserve yourself. And I am holding on, because I know: I will be able to live on, even after everything that happened.

P.S.

“Teenage passion” — because it started when I was 15.

I got pregnant at 16.

I gave birth just before turning 17.

I will be 18 soon.

And the scariest thing in this story is that all of this was lived through not by a grown woman.

But by me — a child.

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.