Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

I’m 20 years old.

I’m a guy, and up to this day I’ve never had sex. Not because I never wanted to, and not because I don’t have desires or feelings. I simply live in a country where people and the government are extremely sensitive about anything related to sex, to the point that a person has to hide their natural needs like they’re committing a crime.

To be honest, I’ve always been attracted to women older than me. Women who are more mature, experienced, and emotionally intelligent. But every time, there’s either fear of being judged, social restrictions, or the feeling that even having these desires is somehow forbidden.

Sometimes the loneliness becomes exhausting. Pretending everything is normal while inside you’re full of desire, curiosity, frustration, and emotional pressure.

I honestly don’t know what the solution is.

I don’t know how someone is supposed to deal with these feelings when there’s neither the possibility of a healthy relationship nor the freedom to even talk openly about it.

If anyone has advice, experiences, or any kind of solution, I’d genuinely appreciate hearing it.

hey there, I'm a 41-year-old woman juggling life with a big family, five kids to be exact. ever since I first became a mom, this nagging thought about death has been tagging along like an uninvited guest that's overstayed its welcome. I mean, what if one day I'm just not there because of something as random as a car accident? it’s wild how those "what if" questions creep into your mind, right? can’t help but worry sometimes whether I’ve set things up for them if I suddenly tap out. sounds morbid, I know, but I also figure it's kind of a natural concern. sharing this because I bet there are many out there, riding the same anxiety train; it helps just a little bit knowing you're not alone in this grim headspace.

so, any tricks to stop thinking about this heavy stuff? i've tried mindfulness and staying busy, binge-watching those feel-good family movies, or reading light books. focusing on celebrating the little moments, the crazy family dinners, and the kids’ goofy antics; even their toothless grins on picture day make you remember why life is sweet. some folks say practice gratitude, although I sometimes wonder if missing a day would somehow jinx my luck. 🤷‍♀️ ever heard of "don’t borrow trouble"? it’s kind of my new mantra! so, why stress about things that might never happen? death is part of life, sure, but living for today is kinda what makes each moment precious. maybe one day these dues will stop fucking rent-free in my head and just let me savor the good shit for a change? thoughts?

I FUCKING HATE MENNNN ISTG. Story time you guysss!!

So I had this talking stage. We were doing so good at first but ig his ass decided that he was js fucking infatuated. Yeah, that’s fine, I’m cool w it, BUT THEN, HE’S STILL FUCKING KEEPING ME AROUND ALL WHILE FLAMING ME IN HIS GODDAMN REPOSTTTTT. ISTG WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG W Y’ALL, LIKE IF YOU’RE NOT INTERESTED NO MORE JUST FUCKING TELL US, WHAT THE FUCK?!?!!!! IS IT THAT HARD? LITERALLY JUST TYPE OUT “hey, just to let you know I’m no longer interested in continuing whatever this is between us. I’m sorry” LIKE HELLO, DOES THAT HURT YOUR FUCKING EGO TOO MUCH OR WHAT?? AND YOU EXPECT ME TO NOT GET MAD WHEN YOU’RE LITERALLY SILENT QUITTING AND I’M FUCKING LEFT HERE TRYNA FIGURE OUT IF WE’RE FINE OR WHATTTTTT. So, to all men out there who’s talking to a woman and you are no longer interested, just tell them and do not lead them on. You’re holding them back from progressing btw. If you’re here reading this, fuck you for doing me wrong btw.

I’m a pretty self aware person. I’ve done a lot of healing over the past few years and I’m pretty good at identifying my behaviors and all the stuff.

I still struggle to understand what are normal social things and just things you have to get over. And one of the things is the fact my boyfriend and my best friend discuss me.

My best friend told me at the beginning that when they conversate, I have permission at any point to ask and view their messages. And honestly I have no worries of any affairs or cheating.

However me and my friend got heated because she was continuing to push me on something when i repeatedly told her to stop. Long story short, there were tears and i eventually told my bf what happened.

He confronted my friend and askedwhy she was upsetting me and to cut it out, which i did really appreciate, because clearly she wasn’t listening to me when I told her to stop. And they talked about it and all, and he defended me throughout, which is really awesome, especially since I didn’t know about this, and I appreciate that I have someone who has my back even when I’m not there.

But when my friend was showing me, or at least, reading them, I asked her if I could just read it myself. And she said that it felt like a breach of privacy and joked that they talked shit about me and talk about me, which made me uncomfortable. And the fact that it’s a breach of privacy when it’s me who’s being discussed, makes me uncomfortable of what they could be talking about, because these things could be discussed with me.

I know they discussed how frustrated they were about my housing situation, and how I was being dumb about it. It just makes me not want to tell them anything, and I feel like I can’t trust what they reveal about me. I feel like their project and child, when I’m a human being who has feelings and if you feel the need to hide feeling like that and band together to discuss it, it makes me feel like they’re hiding things from me, secret feelings and gripes and I have to watch them grow to resent me or complain about me.

Is this ok? Like talking about me without me knowing? If it is then I can learn to get over it and not take it personally but if it’s not, I’d like to know, so I can share these feelings with them. Because my nervous system is telling me to never trust them with anything about me, and to leave them in the dark so they can’t use what I entrust them with, against me. But I know that it only hurts the relationship and “protects” me.

Any thoughts?

Customers nowadays really do complain about the stupidest things.

Now, im a mcdonalds employee, for some reason we really attract all the brain dead people. Ive just had a Customer complain about me specifically because he couldn't "see his number on the screen" (the one screen that shows order numbers).

Yeah thats it. Thats the complain.

Even though he got his order in less than 5 minutes, all fresh, nothing missing, its not good enough i guess cause his number was not on the screen 🤷

now i have to face my manager tomorrow to talk about it because i was mentioned in the negative review 🤦 obviously im not gonna get fired from this, but im anxious and stressed as hell now because of this. What the fuck am i supposed to say? I didnt think the screen was that big of a deal. God, stupid people will complain about ANYTHING.

That customer probably just went on a power trip, cause who the hell complains about that?! Its such a nothing burger.

It doesn't help that management takes negative reviews so seriously 🙄 theyre definitely gonna have a talk with me about this and— uggghhh, thanks a lot random adult ass man you made my anxiety go up i cant even sleep right now and im on the verge of tears.

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.