Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

I'm a Demiboy lesbian who has open minded parents but it was this one and only time when I had tried to bring up the LGBTQ Community and they had shut their mouth immediately, so I felt awkward and never told them about myself, I'm still in my teens and am really confused, pls help me...

Okay, so here's the deal: it's been a real mess at home lately. My parents have been at each other's throats non-stop for the past three months. You know how it is. Like, my dad lost his job and it's been tough on all of us. But he’s started drinking a lot, and that's set the whole mood on fire with constant arguing. I’m 17, and honestly, I’d much rather be doing anything else than playing referee in World War III every evening. It’s exhausting, man! Sometimes I wonder if I should just lock myself in my room and play loud music, but that doesn’t really solve anything, does it?

Being 17 in this family circus means I’m stuck in between – too young to really leave, but old enough to get what's happening around me. When they're in their shouting match mode, I try to disappear. I'll hide out in my room or take a long shower. But then, there's times when I feel like I have to step in and play the peacekeeper, which just sucks. I miss the times when things were normal, or at least more chill, before all this job loss and booze-induced madness. It’s like walking on eggshells, and you never know when one’s gonna crack and set everything off again. It’s frustrating as hell. Honestly, sometimes I question why I even bother when they're both acting like children.

I guess I'm trying to figure out the best way to navigate all of this. It's not like there's a manual for surviving parents in a never-ending argument. I've tried distracting myself with my friends and school stuff, but it only lasts so long. So, I've started journaling, which helps me untangle some of the emotional knots. I get to pour it all out on paper – anger, sadness, confusion, you name it. It gives me a sense of relief and a chance to see things clearly. Plus, finding some calm in this chaos lets me think of ways to help, but you can only do so much before you have to protect your own sanity. I still hang onto hope that they’ll figure it out; maybe this is just a bump in the road, not the end of the line. Got to stay positive, right?

I’m not a therapist, but sometimes I feel like one. It’s rough when you’re the kid turning into the adult because the grown-ups aren’t able to hold their own. Honestly, if anyone reading this has been through the same, what did you do? In those moments when it's too much to handle, I remind myself that it’s not my responsibility to fix everything. Sometimes, people just need time and space to work through their chaos. But still, it’d be nice to come home to a couple of smiles than another round of screaming. I guess I’ll keep hoping for peace, writing my way through the mess, and grabbing any slice of normality I can find. It can’t be this crazy forever, right? 🤞

So I was sexually assaulted, abused and groomed at a very young age by another minor she was my best friend and everything she did to me I struggle with being hypersexual and suicidal + I cannot like myself or be healthy in a friendship with anyone I keep hurting the people around me and I am a very very bad person she made me this version of me and to this day I think it's my fault for being naive enough to let her ruin me I still look at that little girl and think she's so stupid she's getting beaten up on a daily, bullied, humiliated, forced to think she's disgusting, ugly and whatever else you can think of the night I got assaulted it was the only time I was allowed to sleep at her house she was weird the whole day making me change in front of her because girls must show each other everything I made it clear I didn't want to and it led to her taking off my shirt and fondling me this night ruined my sexual drive I have an addiction now and I absolutely feel disgusting and hate myself my body and my life but I want to continue living and to be happy so if anyone is reading this please help me through text (sorry for little to no punctuation and shitty grammar I am not from an English speaking country)

I'm scared of dying in my sleep, knowing that it can happen at any time. And you wouldn't even know because you won't wake up if it happens,

you lay in bed and close your eyes, ready to go to bed and wake up the next morning but the fear sometimes lingers with me. Which sounds stupid when you say it out loud because it would be the most peaceful way to go right?

but at the same time, i feel like to me it's the hardest way. Not the aftermath of it, but just knowing it could happen and what others would think. You don't get to say goodbye, you can't give a last message. What would my online friends think? that i ghosted them but in reality i died?

It's the being afraid of dying before living life to my fullest. What if i die before getting to live as a guy? before i come out. If the last thing they know me as is a girl when all i want to be seen as is a guy. Is that just part of the fear? the fear of dying, but also the fear of leaving things unfinished. Like there’s still so much you haven’t gotten to do yet? I know i will die someday but it's always a feeling that stays because what if i don’t get the chance to be me before that happens?

It’s just one of those thoughts that makes everything feel a little more real than i want it to feel. Sometimes i'm stuck staring at the ceiling trying to distract myself with the thought that i will wake up. But my brain just circles back like it’s looking for an answer that doesn’t exist. Because you won't know if you don't wake up.

Am i just afraid of dying young? and is there a way to ease this feeling a little?

You know what is MEFCC, right? The Middle East Film Comic Con? I know. It got postponed to September 11-13. Yay. I thought I could go on April, in a new school year, finishing exams, doing my Joseph Joestar cosplay decent for a first attempt, meet people who are like me, and have fun. But there is war going on in Dubai, which is also my home. I’m in India now, for god knows how long. I thought I could go in April, but it postponed. I thought things could improve, but this process it can’t. I don’t know why I’ve been so hopeful back then. What was the point? What is the point of trying to have fun here in India? It’s like cheering when you failed. I’ll still be friendless, I’ll still score low, I’ll never be able to control my home or myself. That’s why it sucks. I can’t ever control anything. My home could blow up and I could end up alone here. Iran could nuke UAE, Saudi and Qatar to prove that they destroyed the world, and the USA isn’t doing anything to stop this from getting worse, only worsening. It’s all timed right after my birthday. I shall never celebrate again, if this is all that’s been happening, getting worse as I age. I’m not gonna go because of this. It’s a cheers to something hopeless. I’ve lost everything before I even got to live newly. My exams got cancelled, which is fine, but what was that effort for? It never mattered. I never did. I knew I was a waste of space.

I was a waste of space, oxygen, life and money. No wonder I’ve got no friends. I didn’t actually matter. Every time I think I’m good, I go back to zero. This isn’t even zero, this is minus. I hurt everything by being myself. I shouldn’t have even asked this. I wouldn’t have been this hurt. Every time I go back to being worthless. Because I am worthless, I always was. My life so far has always been me failing right when I think I’ve gotten better. I should just stop and wish I never was this way. Wish I was normal. I should’ve been thrown away right when I was born. I was born bad. I was born lame. I was born with a cleft palate, which was fixed early, but I should’ve not been so invested so early. I wish I wasn’t exciting, even at home. That way it wouldn’t hurt as much.

My home is destroyed. UAE is destroyed. I spoke to my mom and brother. Mom messaged that she’s happy for me that it’s at least postponed (she guessed it by the way), the world’s problems aren’t mine to solve and I’m not a peace activist, no one expects me to fix the world, I can learn to control my feelings, she thought it was dumb of me to assume that Trump would specifically blow up our home, we’re not at complete war, and that Iran isn’t dumb enough to hit the richer countries with oil because the whole world’s economy would collapse, and I should have fun in India because relatives are here. My younger brother said that Iran won’t hit UAE in oil ports or citizens because “they’re friends” due to the oil and only attacked the US bases, but that I should keep trying, because he said what if I war never back to 0, but still at 50, like I usually was, just shaking? Doesn’t change the fact I’m behind others, they’re at 80 while I was at 50, now minus. I’m still at minus. I’m still worthless. I still have no chances anymore, and that I’m worthless in India. I only matter to my relatives and my main family, and even then, I’m even more of a nobody here.

I don’t know if it’ll get better. Maybe I’ll be here as my new home. Everything may be reducing here, but it won’t be the same. Lesser people will be in UAE because it’s not the safest country. They’ll think it’s dangerous now, because it’s in Middle East. All western movies say that, and they’re right. There’s no point anyways. My parents are delusional for saying we’re here for 3 weeks. We’ll be here for 3-9 months! How do I know? World war 3 is already happening. And I can stop this off I figure or some way to just not be me or change myself in the new school here or die from the world exploding from nukes!

Look what being me did. It hurt me more than help. It’s not good to have weird interests, or value friendships so much, or dress up, or have your family as your friend, or having eczema, or having braces, or having short hair as a girl even when you only cut it to reduce rash in your scalp to only one small location, even when you’re short. I’m stupid. That’s why I have no friends, I scored badly at school for a few exams, and worst of all, my family is my only friendship. At 14, I should be having more outside friends and I don’t know, hate family, and have fun and not value them too much. Or if I do have a group who only likes me if I act a certain way, I hate that I can’t change into them so fast. Why can’t I change myself to be them?

I’ve lost all chances. I always turn down people whenever they talk badly about some friends of theirs being their backs, or when they ignore me even if I tried I try to make myself happy, it’s a bad habit. I’m too goody-two-shoes, I need to revel in some way to be a teenager. I’m 14, I should’ve done something rebellious earlier! Now with the war, which all my relatives here are saying, it’s worse. Even with people here, they were only interested at first because I came from Dubai, otherwise they’d ignore me. That’s okay, I don’t like me either. I really need to stop celebrating birthdays. It’s always bad luck, this war happened right after. It means growing up is realizing you’re not great to anyone. Why haven’t I died in the womb? I made my mom fat and had her be my friend. It sucks. That cleft palate shouldn’t have been my only flaw, I should’ve had something else. I make things worse. For me and for my family. Why do I even have good relations with family only? It’s every kid’s nightmare. Right? Plus, what normal kid’s home could get bombed?

Now all I have are a bunch of drawing books, craft supplies and markers. I can draw but how can that fix anything? I even have my earphones and music stuff, but again, can’t fix anything. It’s like toasting when the world is exploding. Pointless. So, yeah, how’s drawing and listening to music gonna help? I’m just drawing, with colors, that’s weird right when my home could blow up with a nuke. It’s not like my cool music taste is gonna fix everything. Mangalore is cool, but it’s not home.

I’m not even as good as I used to be. I try drawing differently, and it’s inconsistent. Earlier it used to be consistent, but now with me trying a new style. It’s not even as good as Araki’s, which I’m a fan of JJBA now. Yeah, one of the more niche Shonen ones out there. Not as new as JJK or Demon Slayer. His style is so immaculate and cool, and mine is a mimicry of that, a pathetic one. It still looks like mine, except I changed the face and some stuff, but even then, the lines and proportions are somewhat inconsistent. It sucks. I never improved. I only went backwards. I shouldn’t even draw. I don’t even know why I like some of them.

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.