Anonymous venting

I feel like we can't talk at all, friends. I feel like we can't talk much on social media. We're judged too much. On Telegram, I'm judged too much. A strange guy came to judge me as crazy. To speak to me in charming, meaningless language. To tell me that what I write formally is hurting the group. Who does he think he is? I can express myself however I want. When I write these posts with beautiful formality, with the desire to see beautifully what's happening to me, what's happening to me, I feel that instead of inspiring him to be a better person, he actually backs down.

How is it possible that posts like mine, which offer such a detailed analysis of my behavior? Very pleasant, very detailed, very beautiful, and also written with refined data, can inspire such destructive criticism as to say that I'm hurting the group, that I'm making it difficult for the group to coexist. Doesn't he realize that what he's providing is an improvement? How disrespectful.

Why, instead of hindering good progress, don't you go somewhere else to do it? There was a guy who wanted to be my ceiling, and I didn't like that. I don't think anyone does. I hate that guy deeply; it doesn't do me any good. Those people who put a ceiling on someone aren't good people. They're always obstacles. By the way, there's a space on Telegram where they tell me that their space is the privileged one for expressing themselves, as if they were the superiors; it turns out I'm very distrustful. It's impossible that I found one of those people in an emotional support group. How is it possible that I found a guy like that?

The previous day, along with a classmate, they told me I was an artificial intelligence. That they should kick me out of the group for that. Can you believe it? I can't believe that because of my writing style, which is what I mentioned above, they considered me one of those things. The problem isn't that; the point is that they told me they should kick me out. How are they going to kick me out after expressing myself? How, after expressing myself through my beautiful writings, are they proposing to kick me out? It was something I couldn't believe. They were monsters. I couldn't believe it. The other guy I mentioned, the one I mentioned earlier, told me I was an artificial intelligence. He insisted, even when I told him no thousands of times. The guy I mentioned earlier insisted, despite being scolded, that I was an artificial intelligence. They even went so far as to claim that my writings couldn't have been written by a human being. I felt extremely offended, angry. I'd never encountered such an offense to myself.

It was like feeling like I had no place anywhere, friends. That my voice, my words, my desire to improve, had no place anywhere. It was one of the most terrifying experiences I'd ever experienced. How could they kick me out of anywhere for expressing myself? Besides a place of support?! It was something I couldn't believe. I wanted to die after that. I never thought I'd have such an experience, ever. Besides, my writing was beautiful, pretty, precious, and didn't bother anyone. They only considered it harmful because it bothered others, because their writing style wasn't theirs. Because I wasn't like them, should I leave? Or should I lower myself to being like them? Everyone's writing is a very personal thing; or rather, their improvement, because that's what I aim for with these writings. It's working with anxiety. How the hell could they frame my process? That's harmful to anyone's health! Both physically and emotionally! How can monsters like that exist on social media? I still can't believe it. It was a truly terrifying experience.

I just wanted to write calmly in that Telegram group. Relaxed, calm. And that's what happens to me. Also, for a long time now, I've been in need of consolation. I confess, I need to talk a lot. I feel very accomplished about things. I feel like I need to talk to someone, but they're not there. She's a girl who should have arrived a long time ago, but she hasn't. I don't know where she is, and I'm worried about her. I don't know what to do about her. I feel like something happened to her or something. I don't know where she is. I swore I'd leave her—I confess—so I could get her out of a negative situation, so she'd somehow reach out to me, and yet she hasn't. I've seen it work with other people, but not with me. Well, I'm being grim: I respected her space. I feel like that's why she should come. Knowing she's with a respectful person, who gives her peace, who doesn't control her life. Why isn't her life coming? Could it be that someone managed to control her life and I don't know them? I feel like she doesn't value the effort I'm making to wait for her. I don't know what to do to run into her. She was supposed to be my life partner, at least, that's what I expected. I feel like I wasted my time looking for a way for her to be with me, also for her pleasure. It can't be that she did this to me, it can't be that she's I'm going through this. This is hell. How could I have lost her?

I'm 39 and feeling like I'm drowning; it's just been too much lately. I love my kids, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like I'm running a marathon with no finish line in sight. My husband? He's there physically, but that's about it. It's like living with a ghost. When did life become so exhausting?

Every morning, I gear up to tackle the chaos. My kids, they're the light of my life, but man, they can be a handful. School lunches, homework, tantrums - it's never-ending. Do you ever feel like you're on autopilot, juggling so much that you can't catch your breath? My husband's in his own world, and I can't remember the last time we had an actual conversation. It's like talking to a wall most days.

At home, I'm doing the all-nighter thing without the party vibes. Laundry, dishes, cleaning up messes, and running after the kiddos... Oh, and did I mention working too? Sometimes I stare at the ceiling, wondering if this is it. Is this what adulting is all about? I try to stay hopeful, but it feels like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Self-care? That ship sailed a while ago.

I've tried to talk to him, but it's like we're speaking different languages. How do you get through to someone who doesn't seem to care? It's like he's on a permanent vacation from our life. I just want him to notice me, help out a little. It's not too much to ask, right? Sometimes a hug or a simple "How was your day?" would mean the world. Emojis can't solve everything, but 😢 sums it up pretty well.

Still, I tell myself it won't always be like this. Kids grow up, things change. It's just a stormy phase, and I'll come out the other side stronger. I hold onto that hope like a lifeline. Anyone else feeling something similar? Let's hang in there. Life has a funny way of turning things around when you least expect it. I'm ready for that silver lining.

man, i woke up this morning and I just definitively don't feel good.... i'm 28 for crying out loud, you'd think I'd have my shit together by now. i'm not even sure what's wrong, like, there's nothing specifically happening to cause this funk. is this just adulthood, or am i missing something crucial? seriously, how do other people keep it together so seamlessly while I'm over here struggling to get out of bed most days?

all week i've been stuck in a vicious cycle; i'm tired, but can't sleep; i'm hungry, but can't eat; and don't even get me started on working. sometimes i think to myself, "is there something bigger at play here?" maybe there's some universal energy or something screwing with me. you know that old quote, "sometimes we need a little darkness to see the stars"? it's kind of comforting, but what if it's total BS? like, aren't there stars in the daytime too? 🤔

so my attempts to remedy this have been textbook: i've tried meditating but the silence only made me more anxious. hit the gym, thinking some exercise would help; instead, I felt more exhausted than ever. someone suggested "retail therapy"—what a load of crap. spending all that money I don't even have just stressed me out more. basically, i've run out of options, and I’m starting to think my only salvation might be an alien abduction or something equally drastic. maybe a fresh start on a different planet might do the trick.

despite all this, i'm trying to stay hopeful. i mean, people always say "this too shall pass," right? but what they don't tell you is how slow the passing can be. life does suck sometimes but I guess that's part of "the journey". and if life throws me any more curveballs, I’ll just swing for the fences or whatever—because what’s the alternative? sulking in misery? nah, not my style. i'm clinging to any shred of optimism left like a lifeline—because seriously, what else can one do?

so here I am, spilling my guts online like that’s gonna fix anything. but maybe, just maybe, someone out there can relate or offer a piece of advice that's not straight out of a self-help book. have you faced similar BS and come out on the other side? don't hold out on me, share the secret—what's the meaning of life, or at least the key to feeling like a functional human being again?

so, here's the deal, guys. i've been dating this amazing guy for a couple of months now, and everything's going great. we're both 17, figuring ourselves out, and all that jazz. the thing is, he's super plugged into the whole LGBTQ+ community. like, he's got this crew, and they use so many terms i'm just not familiar with. i'm feeling a bit lost because i keep hearing the words "gay" and "queer" being tossed around like they're interchangeable—are they??? i mean, i thought i knew the basics, but turns out, i might be missing something.

so, picture this: we're hanging out at his friend's house, right? his buddy starts talking about this "queer art show" they're planning, and someone else chimes in with, "oh, it’s so great to see spaces that celebrate queer culture!" and i'm just standing there, nodding like i get it, but inside, i'm like "wait, what?" because i thought "queer" just meant "gay," but now it seems like it’s got its vibe and everything. i'm kinda stressed out 'cause i don’t want to seem clueless or, worse, offend anyone by asking, "um, what's the difference between gay and queer?"

i remember when i first told my parents about my boyfriend—they asked if i was "coming out as gay now?" and honestly, i didn't even know how to respond. i said, "uh, i think so?" but now, i'm hearing all these terms like bisexual, pansexual, non-binary, and gender-fluid, and i'm like, okay, where do i fit in here??? does liking a guy make me gay, or am i somewhere on the queer spectrum? i'm legit confused, and part of me is worried i'm just overthinking it. like, does it even matter as long as i'm happy? but still, i'm in this kind of identity limbo, unsure of what label, if any, suits me best.

now, i did what any self-respecting teen would do; i dove into the internet rabbit hole, reading articles and forums about all these different identities. from what i gather, "gay" typically refers to someone who's attracted to the same gender, right? but when it comes to "queer," things seem way more open-ended. some folks embrace it as a blanket term for anyone not straight, others as an act of reclaiming a word that was once an insult. but it seems to have this larger-than-life, almost rebellious energy to it, embodying a broader celebration of diversity. is that how you guys see it too???

part of me wants to just sit down with my boyfriend and ask, "hey, what do these words mean to you?" or "how do you feel about them?" maybe even confess that i'm kind of at a loss for the right vocabulary here. but, i can't help but worry he might think i'm not invested or that i’m just clueless. in the end, i guess this is part of the journey, right? figuring out how i identify, what these terms mean to me personally; it's just this process of questioning and understanding, getting comfortable with being a bit of a rainbow-colored question mark for now. who else has been here too? i'd love to hear your stories or advice 'cause i'm just trying to keep my head above water in this sea of new words and identities. thanks for listening!

I've recently been asking myself why -the f*ck- am I so unmotivated? and, quite frankly, it's starting to bug me. I mean, I’m 32, and I feel like I should have it all figured out, yet here I am, stuck in this seemingly endless rut. one thing that always hits me is work. Like, seriously, what’s going on with work nowadays?! Year after year, I've watched as impossible deadlines have consumed my time and energy. It seems that the intensity only increases as I get older. Deadlines??? More like "dead-end lines" if you ask me. The pressure to perform and deliver feels crushing, and to top it all off, there’s this whole AI assistance thing now… It’s like I’ve forgotten how to do my job, and AI is just there to slap me in the face and remind me how inadequate I can feel.

Then there’s the future!!! It’s so uncertain. With AI doing everything these days, where do people like me fit in the grand scheme of things? 🤖 It's hard not to feel overshadowed. I remember when I started working - there was genuine excitement and purpose. But now? All I see are stacks of emails, projects that never seem to truly end, and an endless stream of tasks that just never fail to drain any ounce of enthusiasm I have left. How did we reach a point where human contribution feels diluted? Recently, I read a quote somewhere: "Technology is best when it brings people together." Well, sometimes it feels like technology is best when it sidelines people. 😟

When did AI become the new face of productivity and efficiency? I can’t deny its usefulness, sure, I mean, I’ve saved hours thanks to AI, but I can’t help but to remember a time when people were valued for their skills, not the speed at which they can get things done. I’m not saying I’m against progress, but there’s this nagging feeling that I’m just not cut out for the kind of change that’s happening. Am I wrong to feel this way??? I wonder if anyone else out there feels this looming sense of uncertainty about the future at work…

Sometimes, I think back to when things were simpler. A box of office supplies, a friendly chat with colleagues at the water cooler, and those celebratory Friday afternoons when everyone was excited for the weekend. There was a real sense of camaraderie back then. Nowadays? Everything’s just distant and digital. Is social interaction a thing of the past? 🫰 Maybe it's just one of those slumps that people go through in their lives, I don’t know. But all of this has made me really question not just the future of my career but what fulfillment means to me personally. After all, isn’t it possible that we’re supposed to navigate these transitions and uncertainties with grace and adaptability??? Or maybe, it’s truly time for a career change or a soul-searching sabbatical.

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.

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.