Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

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.

There's nothing I can or want to do in life. I'm fucking stupid, I can't remember shit and I don't want to pay attention to this shitty life I live. My grades are low, my parents hate that. The same parents I can't decide if I love or hate because I'm closeted and they're homophobic. Are they correct? Should I go ahead and pay attention to my studies? Probably. Do I want to do it with them or my sister? No. Because my mom just loves to hit me when I don't remember something and my sister doesn't listen to what I need to do to study. My dad is fine, but I hate it all. Is it so wrong to hate pain? I don't want to feel it. But continuously it just fucking happens. I hate it. Constantly. There's nothing I'm good at or can do in life. The stories I write are shitty and I am just so stupid to do nothing.

i myself am 17 and i started talking to this guy lets name him john. i found john cute and we had a thing going on for a while. i cut him off after i got to know that he went to a spa and got a handjob from a lady who is twice his age?. he kept texting me asking me to work things out and i thought he was seriously in love with me.

this is where the actual story begins. today i followed back an old friend lets name him mike, he texted me asking why dont you and john talk anymore and i said it didnt work out. he later went on to explain me saying john called me a bitch and whore and said that i asked john for sex while he wanted to take it slow WHILE IN REALITY, the first day i met john, he got me drunk and tried to makeout with me and i said no and pushed him away. the next day i went to his place cuz he was home alone and he FORCED me into sex, he pulled down my pants unwillingly and kept saying "just the head please just for a bit" i kept saying "NO" multiple times but it was useless, he was already on top of me and i couldnt push him away and eventually it turned into a rape. when this happened i blamed myself and said im just overthinking and he probably didnt mean to do that, but then i found out that john was an actual serial rapist.

while me and john had a thing going on, john didnt like how i was following mike and kept asking me to block every account of his and said that "mike will say shit bout me that isnt true" but now i realise the reason why john wanted me to block mike. mike knew the truth about everything. i will share each story of how john raped these women.

from what i know, john was once talking to this 19 year old while he was 15 and consoled her cuz she was sexually assaulted by her boyfriend. next day he gets her drunk and take her to his old house's terrace and raped her there, the girl couldnt do anything but stay silent. john also once fucked his mom's bestfriend who was drunk sleeping on the bed, she was a 40 year old married woman. when she tried to sue john, johns parents (40yr olds bsf) payed them money so that they wont have to deal with something serious. john has done this to multiple women where he takes advantage of them while they are drunk or force them into sex and infact i found out that john only didnt get handjob from the spa but he also fucked the spa lady and ejaculated inside her WHILE he was sober. and mind you hes 15 and 16 in all this. and currently hes with mikes ex, cuz mikes ex wants mike to feel jealous so she got with john and guess what john did? force her into sex 3 times. AND worst part is she knows bout me and i was talking to john as well after all this. i was talking to john only because i thought he was genuine but after finding out about this im super disturbed and i started shaking cuz i finally realised that i was overthinking and he did actually rape me. i cant even blame him because after all that happened i still kept talking to him and tried to brush it off. oh btw hes not over his ex he dated for 3yrs and tht was really long back so every girl he dated he just used them for their body, his body count is more than 50.

its the fact that this guy has been getting away so easily with it is so fucked up, you see these things in movies... all these girls including myself are helpless cuz we cant sue him because we dont want any trouble and no one is going to believe us. this guy manipulates and lies his way thru just for sex and its genuinely disturbing, i dont think i can sleep anymore. his mom and dad knows about this yet they let him do whatever he wants. worst part is his mom is a proud feminist who says "women must be independent, she shouldnt be afraid to speak up blah blah blah" and when it comes to her son raping others suddenly she becomes blind and hes a really good guy in her eyes. i genuinely saw her as my role model but shes.. no words. if i were johns mom, id kill my son. i hope john goes through the worst karma in life that he wishes he was dead everyday but nothing lets him die so he just has to suffer daily in the most painful way.

In February my hyper mobile joints in my shoulders decided to give out. Just looking at me, you could tell my shoulders were in the wrong positions. I felt them slip in and out of my socket. until about 4 weeks ago I couldn’t bathe, dress, feed, or go to the bathroom with out my husband doing it for me. For most of that time even the most light touch on my skin was like searing pain. I shaved my head so that I could wash my hair by myself, and sleep comfortably with out it being stuck behind me in places I could not reach. Im a woman. It crushed me to have to do that. I look good, but I’m devasted I had to under these conditions.

I have other chronic conditions that are manageable at home, as a SAHW and then a SAHM. I had bad days, but mostly great days. Until this happened.

Ive started having seizures, I’ve been told it’s probably a mental issue. Stress, anxiety. It hospitalized me before I was given that hunch if answer. Because of how shitty the medical system is, I won’t be able to see neurology until July to get a confirmation on what the hell this is. The events have gone down since my mental health medications have been changed drastically.

And the medical system has shit all over me:

-The only ER for 45 miles has given me intense medical trauma. From dismissing me and sending me home with rude, snide comments about not coming in for this situation. To talking over me purposefully to write down incorrect information on my intake paper work (my husband had to intervene because I was having SEIZURES while this man talked down to me). The same man was going to give me a sedative shot with out telling anyone what he was doing. My primary sent me to that ER urgently for potential cerebral meningitis, insisting I need the spinal tap to be tested, I had the symptoms. The ER refused to test me. That visit they gave me something called a “purewick” incorrectly, TWICE. It’s to vacuum suck away your urine quickly and cleanly when you can’t get up to the bathroom. The first time, the male nurse did it quickly, half assed, and incorrectly. I ended up peeing all over myself. Then it was disconnected to take me for a CT scan. When I was brought back to my room, the tech handed me the purewick back to me, urine side into my barehand, so that I could place it back myself. It went even worse than before. I sat in my own urine for hours, while also being talked down to about needing to use the call button when my symptoms got worse.

-when I was having so many seizures in a row that I couldn’t make it to the car to go the hospital from my 3rd story apartment, we had to call 911. My husband asked dispatch if the EMS could take me to any other hospital besides the one who fucked me up. They said yes. EMS came, talked shit about my room in front of me, refused to let my husband in the room with me (I had been laying in the floor to be in the safest position for seizures, I couldn’t walk to him), and refused to take me to any other hospital. I burst into tears and they ripped into me about it. They took me down the stairs in a stair-wheelchair and my husband had to drive me to a different hospital.

We are trying to get a government funded childcare program to pay for daycare for our toddlers, so that my husband can get a job and be able ti support us again. Since I can’t take care of the kids myself, this is the only way to make it work. The program accepted us, then swiftly denied us, claiming they needed a letter from my physician that I can’t take care of my kids at all. Getting the letter was a fight in and of itself, the family medicine office was refusing to write it themselves, even though the program insisted it had to be from them. Eventually I got the letter. The program said the letter was not enough, because it didn’t use the exact words “cannot take care of her children at all”. And now the dr’s office is flat out refusing to write the letter. They insist I need to go to occupational therapy to get them to write it. The original OT office refused to write it. The dr’s office didn’t believe me when I told them. I had to get the OT to call them directly. I was then referred somewhere else. The same hospital that traumatized me above.

I tried to care for my kids yesterday, to test the waters to see if I could potentially do it for a few days until this is sorted. My shoulders have gotten better enough for me to do plenty of things for myself. I was determined to try. My husband was home, it was only an hour and a half. My shoulders continued to quickly pop in and out of place, and it knocked me off my feet quickly. I woke up today in even worse pain than yesterday, weak. I stood up at one point this morning, stumbled, and accidentally knocked over my youngest in the process. She’s fine, this time.

I’m so angry. I’m so angry at my body. Im so angry at the systems and programs meant to help. I’m tired of feeling awful all the time.

Thanks for reading <3

Im 8 months pregnant and since then I have always been feeling like my husband is cheating on me. I wanted to talk to him about it but why then it feels like it wont change anything? I wanted to confront him but then whenever it crosses my mind it feels like I will just be wasting my time bec. I cant ask him to be faithful and loyal if in the first place he is really not that kind of person? He may be married to me but it feels like it is not me to whom he will be contented...

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.