Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

I am surrounded. I see the faces and hear the screams of days long over. I wake up screaming. I hold conversations with others, who carry on such interactions, whilst phantoms of past evils dance before my eyes.

How can I ever tell anyone??? I have tried. I am trying still. I am so afraid. So much violence and death. So much pain, so much pure, unfiltered filth and depravity takes up my childhood. I wear the scars on my face and on my body like little music notes, each one playing the rhythm of my anguish. I try to control the anger. I try to control the fear. And, despite everything, I've made small victories. But they are fleeting. I can't do it alone... but idk if I can do it at all.

I try to tell myself; forgive yourself. You were a boy. You did not choose then, but you must choose now- will you drown, or will you swim? But I don't know the difference. Every time I find footing, I slide down. I've wounded some who've tried only to bring me comfort. I've wounded myself. Inside there is another me, one who failed the tests of abuse, one who is pure Wrath and Vengeance and only the darkest parts of me. He hates everything. He hates me. I, for my part, am so afraid. I shake. I cannot breathe. When I finally try to get help, the Other comes- doubting, damning. Cursing. He tells me- I tell me- that I am weak. That I must be a Man, that I must take Vengeance upon my own blood for the unforgivable evil they have perpetrated. But I can't. All the hurt spills over me... and no matter how truly angry, even if justified, I become.. I can't do it. Where part of me wants to burn everything, where part of me wishes to inflict my pain on those who caused it, I find I do not have the stomach to become that guy. Perhaps that's all that separates me from them.. likely more than that. I know I have a heart it's just broken. I am broken. 26 years old.. I've lived 60, in every other way. What do I do? Will I never beat this??? God help me, God answer me.

life keeps getting worse every day, my wife doesn't even notice how depressed and lonely i am in our marriage. it's ridiculous really. she goes to bed super late, scrolling through her phone like there's nothing better to do. tik tok videos, endless feeds of pointless content. yeah, and then she leaves the bed late too. when she's finally around, she's glued to that screen again! completely checked out from reality. never seems to have time for us or me anymore 🤦‍♂️

what's even the point? i've tried talking but it falls on deaf ears. no changes... just same old story every single day 😤 it's exhausting pretending everything's fine when everything is A MESS🤬 i'm stuck in a room with an emotionally absent ghost who's more interested in a digital world than with our lives 🤷‍♂️ i mean seriously? how did we end up here? used to be close, feel cared about.

now I wonder if she's even listening or cares at all?? everything I try seems useless🙄 i need connection... someone who actually pays attention to what’s happening right in front of them rather being lost in another dimension...

so, i'm 24 now and this year was a bit different for me. i always found birthday wishes kinda overwhelming. so every year my mum used to help me reply to all the family members who send their good thoughts (she's super organized with it). but since moving out last year, it's something i have to manage on my own.

being autistic makes social interactions tough sometimes (it's like trying to follow too many conversations at once). when people send birthday messages, especially those long heartfelt ones, i just don't know how to respond without sounding awkward or ungrateful. it's funny though because these are all people i've known my whole life (you'd think that would make it easier). they've been sending nice wishes since forever!

i tried writing back individually this time. i'm keeping it simple and genuine but every message feels like a huge task. some replies seemed off (or maybe that's just in my head)? anyways, i'm hoping they appreciate the effort even if it's not perfect. communication takes practice i guess.

I’ve got a full life ,good friends, a job I actually like, and way too many houseplants ,but I’m ready to share it with someone special. I miss having a boyfriend: the good morning texts, spontaneous weekend plans, deep talks at 2am, and someone to split desserts with.

I’m affectionate, a little sarcastic, and I love deep conversations as much as silly ones. If you’re kind, funny, emotionally available, and actually interested in building something real… please kindly leave a comment under my story so we can move things up and let’s see what happens.

Bonus points if you’re a dog person, can make me laugh until my stomach hurts, and don’t mind me stealing your hoodies.

Let’s skip the games and go straight to the good part.😭🌸

Today I went to the pharmacy to pick up some antihistamines, and the pharmacist asked if I was feeling better (I’d been unwell for months, mainly because of my shitty family). I wanted to scream: "Yes, for fuck's sake, I *am* better—I haven't spoken a word to my shitty parents in over a month, so you bet I'm better." I left the bag in the car and went to the supermarket; when I got back, I found my mother and sister rummaging through it. "What are these?" they asked, pointing to the antihistamines. For fuck's sake—I get that you’re illiterate and barely finished fifth grade, but "AERIUS ANTIHISTAMINE" is written in huge letters. Are you serious? Unfortunately for me, pharmacies don't sell drugs yet.

I don't know... what a shitty life this is.

25 years old and I haven't done a damn thing with my life.

25 years old and I’m not even free to go out alone to the supermarket ten minutes away.

25 years old and I spend my days in bed with headphones on, blasting music loud enough to shatter my eardrums just to drown out my thoughts.

What’s the point of bringing kids into the world and then raising them like shit?

And as if that weren't enough, they bully us for the state we're in and compare us to other people's kids.

Other people's kids don't have shitty parents.

Other people's kids are free.

Other people's kids didn't grow up forbidden from even stepping outside the front door to play with other children.

The kids my mother envies so much didn't have shitty parents.

What is the point of my life?

There is no point.

The only reason I haven't ended it all yet is the music I listen to otherwise, I’d miss out on new releases from the artists I follow.

And even if I did end it, my family wouldn't think about *me* first; they’d worry about what people would think.

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.