Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

All my friends, so far away now. I'd love to make some here, in Toronto. I'm always my best with others, being alone is just too much. Gahhh

There I was, 9yo, happy going to the bathroom in the middle of the class. Then I thought "why not poop in the middle of the hallway". Hell yeah, I did it.

Next it was lunch break, when I got out of class everyone was around the poop like "oH MY GOOOOD" and stuff, turns out the blame ended up going for the security guy from school (don't know how it's called in English).

Well, days went by and he never appeared in the school again, and for the history of the entire school it was recorded that it was the security guy. Oops I guess.

So guys i need advice like how do i stop being an actor and i dont mean in like a movie no more like i act when im with different peole like im part of this script where my part is of some irrelevant character in a sense like IM only their to build the plot like im always someone different personality different persona like how do i stop that like idk how to feel things kinda in a sense to get love i have to act this way to get people to like me i have to act this how do i be me if i dont even know what being me means like who am i what am like what is me what is my true self i dont know ive been doing this unconsciously for so long that i dont know who i am anymore kinda just like an imitator im just there and i cant even connect with people i just dont know how to be me if i dont know who me even is and even then its probably why no one will ever choose me because they wont even know themselves im just sad i always think i will get betrayed and when it happens in one way or another i think im right happens a couple of times and i dont know anymore guys like idk i really dont know and it doesnt help when no one ever makes the time to choose you to want to be with you or hangout with you what do i do because im going insane trying to figure what i am or who im supposed to be when i dont know who me is

lately, life has taken an unexpected turn. my wife of seven years decided to leave the house two months ago. she sent me divorce papers through the mail. it's surreal how things can change so quickly; one moment we were planning a weekend getaway and the next i'm looking at legal documents trying to make sense of it all. i can't dwell on negativity though, mainly because I have these two amazing kids who need me more than ever right now.

it's been challenging to say the least but i'm determined to focus on every positive aspect that this new chapter might bring. raising these youngsters on my own has given me a fresh perspective on parenting. every day is a learning experience: from managing school runs to creating impromptu backyard adventures, there’s never a dull moment! 😅

for instance, last weekend, we camped out in our living room watching their favorite movies and making popcorn like it was a five-star cinema. moments like these are precious gems waiting to be appreciated often hidden behind layers of daily chaos; that's what keeps me moving forward with hope and optimism...

ok, I've been doing this therapy thing for 2 freakin' months and guess what? No noticeable difference! 😤 Isn't therapy supposed to work magic or something by now? I'm still feeling all bleh and no enlightenment in sight. What's wrong with me? Did I get a dud therapist or is it just typical fluff? heard some quote about 'patience is a virtue,' but come on, two months of dishing out my life's sob stories should have triggered some mystical change, right?

honestly, i'm paying hefty cash to feel... the same! 🤨 Apparently therapists understand the complexities of one's psyche like nobody else. Random internet advice claims 'progress isn't linear', but aren't there supposed to be some signs of progress after continuously emptying your emotional reserves during sessions? While pondering Aristotle's rant about 'knowing thyself', I wonder if self-actualization decides to take its sweet time. maybe hope's this elusive carrot dangling forever ahead while I race along the existential treadmill.

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.