Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

I love lying to myself.

“It’s for me, so I can be happier!”

It’s for him, because I didn’t want it to become toxic.

“I’m not mad!”

I’m pissed, but with myself.

“It’s ok. I don’t care anymore. they’re all in my past!”

My hands are shaking.

It wasn’t you.

It was me.

It was all me.

I’m right here.

Can’t you see I’m waiting?

I took too long.

I ventured to far.

While you were waiting.

So does that make me the monster?

Does that mean I’m in the wrong?

I was the problem, hiding all along.

M y h a n d s a r e s h a k i n g .

If I could take us back, if I could just do that

And write in every empty space the words “I love you” in replace

Then maybe time would not erase me

If you could only know I never let you go

And the words I most regret

Are the ones I never meant to leave

Unsaid Emily

(Clive)

You know exactly who you are. and who I am.

Sapphire is confused. Cartter’s just himself, but honestly worse. Bax is indifferent, they never had any particular affection for anyone they knew. Mushroom has no idea what’s happened. I’m generally indifferent, you never were anything to me. Allen locked front, he doesn’t want to deal with us anymore, but I managed to get him to let me out for a bit. Aether just doesn’t care, he was tired of everyone calling him “unc” anyway. We gained a new one, Carlos, who thinks Allen could’ve handled it better.

(Sapphire)

Clive’s right, I am kinda confused, I don’t know why Allen did this. I just hope… nevermind. Allen wouldn’t want me to say that, and neither would they, I suppose… Cartter would say something, but he’s a little angry with Allen, and trying to hide that anger. What me and Clive are trying to say is don’t be mad at ALL of us, please. This was all Allen’s decision. But… he is happy with his new friends, and glad to see that you guys seem… generally still happy without him, at least on the outside. He read all your posts, and he’s… understandably shaken (I am choosing my words SO CAREFULLY here and still failing at keeping my head cool). His exact words were, “Nothing like going through your ex’s vent posts about you… I feel like an asshole. Probably cause I am, but… y’know.”

this poem will be about my struggles with adhd

I hope you enjoy and pls lmk what you think

My mind is a house with every light on,

but the wiring is wrong.

Current jumps the walls.

The air buzzes even when I’m still.

Thoughts move like fireworks down the hallway—

no order,

no warning,

just flashes and echoes and aftermath.

I reach for one

and three more grab my sleeve,

each convinced it’s urgent,

each forgetting why it came.

Some days the noise grows too large for the rooms.

It presses outward,

paces the floorboards,

rattles the windows from the inside.

My body learns the exits first—

a flick of the hand,

a sharp blink,

a sudden shudder like static shaking free.

Small movements.

Necessary ones.

The storm grounding itself

so the house doesn’t split apart.

I don’t choose the spill.

It comes when the walls start breathing,

when thought piles on thought

until there’s no oxygen left.

My body reacts before I can ask it to—

a sharp jolt,

a break in the rhythm,

like something clawing its way out

because staying inside would be worse.

It isn’t release so much as survival.

Energy tearing a seam in the dark,

lightning striking downward

so it doesn’t turn inward.

I let it happen

because holding it all

feels like suffocating quietly.

Time behaves strangely here.

It leaks through my fingers,

slips under doors,

vanishes the moment I look directly at it.

Clocks stare like witnesses.

I apologise to them anyway.

Memory is a hallway with missing doors—

names hovering just out of reach,

sentences dissolving halfway spoken.

I step over the gaps,

pretend I meant to forget,

pretend it doesn’t follow me.

Some days my head is a carnival after dark—

lights too bright,

rides spinning too fast,

music overlapping until it sharpens.

I want to leave.

I want quiet.

But the ticket never tears

and the gates stay open.

Then comes the other kind of heavy.

Not loud—

dull.

A dimming after the surge.

Rooms go dark one by one.

Ideas slump in their chairs,

still breathing

but too tired to stand.

This is the exhaustion that doesn’t ask permission.

The kind rest doesn’t solve.

Bone-deep.

Sticky.

Like gravity turning personal.

My body stays still

while my mind keeps running,

burning energy it no longer has.

I stare at things I love

and feel only the weight of them.

Even stillness hums.

Even silence costs something.

And yet—

I find colours hiding in ordinary days.

Stories stitched between unrelated things.

Patterns where chaos pretends to be random.

My mind builds bridges instinctively,

even when I don’t know where they lead.

Ideas love me recklessly.

They arrive in crowds,

talk over one another,

leave without warning—

but for a moment

they make me feel infinite.

When focus finds me,

it grabs hard.

The world blurs.

Hours collapse into a single breath.

I forget to eat,

forget to move,

forget everything except the fire

and the way it finally listens.

I change my mind often

because every idea feels true

until the next one opens its mouth.

I am loyal to the moment,

not the map.

Some days I am exhaustion wrapped in motion.

Some days I am brilliance scattered across the floor.

Most days

I am both at once.

I am not broken.

I am not unfinished.

I am living inside a system turned up too loud—

one that shakes,

that spills,

that wears me thin,

but also sees more than it destroys.

This is what it’s like

to carry lightning in your pockets—

to learn when to release it,

when to rest,

and when to let it burn bright enough

to become light

I need to vent, because I'll figure it out i always do. Im not looking for sympathy, maybe any advice.

Reference i have been falling behind on bills for months now, all because of a strike that directly effected my job it also took me 8 months to get a job with how competitive it is right now.

I am sick of living in poverty.

Ei told me I didn't qualify because I was 200 hours short. (During a temporary lay off)

Government assistance told me I didn't qualify because I have that 22,000 in an investment account.

Bank told I cant take that money out unless its life or death (its a NON-REDEEMABLE gci account), so i applied for an overdraft 0% interest, BUT thats not even guaranteed.

I refuse to barrow more money because I know how annoying it is to constantly be asked for money, and a payday loan charges 14$ per ever $100 you borrow and Im in that limbo of not qualifying for it either way because I only need $600.

OH and on top of the whole bank situation I had to pay a debt that I was disputing to even qualify! The debt was because of a monopolize internet provider double charging me and going against the contract I sighed. On top of all that my car needs $5000+ worth of work done and I cant sell it because my job requires me to have a car for transporting equipment.

I have been struggling to get a side gig to earn extra cash but I need this money by Friday. Thankfully my landlord has been great to me but I feel like me telling him that I cant pay it like I used to do is getting much.

I know in March it will be better, because I only made 7000$ last year and had 6000$ in uninsured medical bills, I do get money back but this is now and I was doing so good at budgeting but it feels like the world cant let me ever get ahead.

Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

[Translated from Tagalog. Reminder: IIWIARS is English only]

Fuck, I don’t want this anymore, I’m so fucking tired. I’m already super stressed and exhausted with everything that’s happening here at home and at school. I’m so pressured and all because of my entrance exams that are getting closer, and I’m always reviewing, always hungry, always with nothing to eat—fuck—because my parents have no idea how to handle their money, especially my dad. And he even got hospitalized. Fuck, I know that’s not his fault, but fuck—he said he was going to resign from his company because the workplace is already so toxic and he’s always stressed and overworked there, but he still stayed.

He ghosted me and my family here for almost one month already. We don’t have anything left to pay the bills and loans, fuck that shit. It’s always just debts after debts, and then it turns out he can’t even pay them. He acts like he’s rich, with all these debts he has to pay, and then he makes promises to me like it’s cool—but it’s not. It hurts so much because every promise you made to me—on my birthday, I didn’t even receive a single “happy birthday” from you. Fucking hell.

Are you that ashamed of me already? You should be, fuck, but why would you even ghost us?? What you did was wrong. You should’ve just apologized instead of not talking to us, especially to me. Fuck. And now what? Always hungry. They keep saying I need to understand the situation—fuck??? Am I always the one who has to understand?? Haven’t you learned your lessons from before, when it’s always debts, enjoy now then starve later??? Fuck, it’s always like this.

Good thing I’m still studying hard. I even graduated with high honors. I’m the one searching for whatever universities and scholarships I can apply to. I already pity myself. I’m sick too, you know. There’s not even a cure yet, fuck. You might as well just kill me, fuck. When are you going to change? When will you all learn your fucking lessons? It’s always like this, always, fucking hell.

And now you’re saying you’re tired? Yeah, people get tired—but I’ve been tired of you for a long time already. Did I complain? Did I scream at you? Did I say awful words to you? No. But you? You did all of that to me just because you were tired, fucking hell. Then you shouldn’t have had children in the first place if you couldn’t even support us. Fuck. And then you make us experience and feel what poverty is like. You already went through hardship yourselves—why repeat it again? And then it’s like it’s our fault that we’re alive?? Fuck.

I’ve been tired for so long already. That’s why I ended up having a severe illness with no cure, hahaha. I was so depressed, but you didn’t even know that. I’m so fucking tired. I’m hungry. I want to rest. I’m dizzy. I was supposed to review for my exams tomorrow, and I ended up writing this fucking vent because you were screaming at me without knowing that that was literally my last straw. I’m tired, sleep-deprived, can’t eat properly, hungry. And then you still scream at me and say horrible things?? Fuck.

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.

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 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.