Anonymous venting

lately, it’s like i’m walking around in my own body but everything feels off. like im not really here, like someone swapped out the real me and left this weird, tired, distant version behind. i still do all the same things—wake up, go to work, see people, even laugh at jokes—but none of it feels right. there’s this weird fog in my head, and even when im smiling, it doesn’t feel real. i keep thinking back to how i used to be. more energetic, more excited, more… alive, i guess. but now? now i just go through the motions and hope no one notices how weird everything feels inside. it’s like my brain is on autopilot and i’m just watching. and what’s worse is i can’t even explain it properly when someone asks what’s wrong? cuz i don’t know. i don’t know when it started, or why, or what triggered it. all i know is that i don’t feel like myself anymore—and that terrifies me.

some days are worse than others. sometimes i wake up and for a second i feel okay, like maybe today’s the day it breaks and i’ll feel normal again. but then something small happens—like i forget something stupid or someone says something in a tone that hits wrong—and boom, it’s back. the emptiness, the disconnection. i try to force myself to do the things i used to love. music, movies, friends, even food. but they don’t hit the same. i keep waiting to feel something spark again, something that says “yes, this is you,” but it just… doesn’t come. nd the more i try to force it, the more fake i feel. like i’m pretending to be okay because im supposed to be okay. i mean, nothing major is happening, i have a roof, a job, people around me. but still, this weight sits on me like i’m broken in a way no one else can see.

i thought maybe it was stress. maybe burnout or something. or maybe it’s just one of those phases people go through when they’re figuring stuff out. but it’s been weeks now, maybe even months, and i still don’t feel right. i’ve started pulling away from people cuz i don’t know how to be around them when i feel like a stranger in my own skin. i cancel plans or show up and zone out the whole time. nd it’s not that i don’t love my friends, i do. but i feel like im watching myself from the outside, doing and saying what i’m supposed to, while inside i’m just numb. or sad. or tired. or all of it. nd it makes me feel guilty too. like i’m wasting time, ruining things, making people worry when i don’t even have a good reason. so i just say i’m fine, just tired, hoping no one digs deeper, cuz i wouldn’t even know what to tell them if they did.

i just want to feel like me again. i want to wake up and not feel like i’m bracing for something i can’t even name. i want to look in the mirror and recognize what’s behind my eyes, not this dull, distant look that doesn’t match the person i remember being. i miss that version of me—the one who laughed loud without forcing it, who got excited over small things, who didn’t feel so... out of place in her own life. i don’t know how to get back there. or if i even can. but i’m trying. slowly. some days, just getting out of bed feels like progress. and maybe that’s all i can do right now. keep trying, keep showing up, even if i feel like a ghost of myself. cuz somewhere deep down, i know i’m still here. i have to believe that. even if i don’t feel like myself right now... maybe, someday, i will again.

I'm having a hard time, promise.. it feels overwhelming. I thought if you were a teacher, at least you were the boss. etc. I'll go back to sleep soon.

I'm typing this while at work. Over the last 2-3 weeks, I have started to despise my job. I've always wanted to work in Marketing, but I'm actually miserable. The boss I once liked is getting more and more overbearing, and she is such a stickler for the rules that it's actually affecting my creativity and how I function at work. (EX: Can't use lowercase letters for a graphic because she doesn't like it OR have to clock in and can't be salaried like everyone else in the building and makes a big deal about making up hours in accordance with "policy" that NONE of the other departments follow). I work in a giant communal office that is dim and only has three small windows. In my last job at the same company, I was allowed to take my laptop and sit outside and work. As long as I got my work done, it didn't matter where I did it from. My current boss won't let me leave the office. Lunch breaks have to be an hour on the dot, and she even gets annoyed if you're in the bathroom too long.

I feel stifled in my creativity, I always feel connected to my job, I hate coming to work to sit in this dim office, I hate that my boss won't give me any kind of freedom when she knows I can do my job and I do it well. To top it all off, my eyes are tired every day from staring at the computer my entire shift. I feel like I don't have any personal time for my husband, I don't have time to work on my hobbies because I'm so annoyed and tired after work, and I'm overall just miserable.

Just quit, then, you may say. Well, I can't. My husband and I were just given the opportunity to rent one of the houses my company owns. It's four bed, two bath, and it includes wifi and rent is only $550 a month. That's amazing. We were paying upwards of $1600 per month including utilities for a one bed, one bath crappy house for the past year, and payments were getting hard. But I have to work at the company in order to rent the new house. So, even though I'm miserable and feel like I'm wasting my life (I'm 24, I shouldn't be feeling this way), I can't leave. We're saving too much money for me to leave. Plus, my husband has to wait a year before we could move anywhere because he has to see if he gets into the grad program he's applying for.

I don't know what to do. I made an appointment to see a counselor, something I never thought I'd do, and I have that this weekend. How am I supposed to do this job for a whole year when I feel like crying every day when I leave? It's affecting my whole life. I am grumpy at everyone, even people I love dearly like my husband and parents. The only time I feel somewhat like myself is the weekend, and even then, I'm so busy doing side jobs to make money, I barely have time to breath. Life is supposed to be about working to live, not living to work. I see marketing girlies sitting by the beach with their laptops, drinking coffee, and making a ton of money, and I know that's extreme, but I want to at least be able to open a freaking window or be able to work from home some days and not feel guilty if I ever have to take a sick day. I feel hopeless at the moment. What can I do?

Back in mid 70 my family had a reunion. About 60 to 70 people came. Unfortunately, dressed in those uniforms the uncles insisted I become a member of their party, sleep with the officers and become an assassin. No Way! I haven't seen my family in 50 years! Now I have stage 4 cancer I long to see some of them. No children. No husband.

I never imagined I’d be the kind of woman who would ask that question. How to forgive my husband, this f***** cheater? Let alone a man who cheated twice. When I got married at 25, I thought I was building something solid, something lasting. My husband was my best friend, my partner, the father of my children. We shared dreams, built a home, raised two beautiful kids. And now, at 39, I feel like I’m standing in the ruins of what we built—still trying to convince myself it’s worth saving, even though every part of me feels tired, confused, and honestly… heartbroken.

The first time he cheated, it felt like the ground disappeared beneath me. I was blindsided. He said it was a mistake, that it didn’t mean anything. We went to therapy. He cried. I cried more. And I made the choice to stay—for our children, for our history, for the hope that maybe it really was just a mistake. I wanted to believe in redemption. I needed to. And for a while, things did get better. He seemed present again. Kinder. More involved with the kids, more engaged in our marriage. I let my guard down, started to trust again… and then he did it again. Different woman. Different time. Same betrayal.

That second time broke something in me. Not just trust, but a piece of my identity as a wife, a partner. I ask myself every day, am I weak for staying? Or strong for trying again? There’s no easy answer. Some mornings I wake up and feel like I should pack a bag and go. Other mornings, I look at our kids and think, how can I blow up their world just because I’m hurting? They love him. They need him. And he’s not a bad father—he’s just… a man who made selfish, hurtful decisions. But how do I reconcile that with the love I used to feel? With the way I used to look at him and see my future? Now I look at him and see a stranger I still share a bed with.

I’ve googled the question so many times—how to forgive a cheater, can a marriage survive infidelity, should I stay or leave. The advice always sounds so clean, so clear-cut. “Rebuild trust.” “Open communication.” “Set boundaries.” But in real life, it’s not that simple. It’s waking up next to someone whose phone buzzes and your stomach drops. It’s hearing “I love you” and wondering if he said that to her too. It’s putting on a smile for your children when all you want to do is scream. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him again and not remember. And yet, I also don’t know how to fully walk away. I’m caught in between two impossible choices: stay and swallow the pain, or leave and shatter the only life I’ve known for nearly two decades.

I don’t have the answer yet. Maybe forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. Maybe it’s something I’ll have to choose every day, even on the days when I hate him a little. Or maybe I’ll wake up one day and realize I’ve stayed too long. All I know is, I’m trying. Trying to be a good mom. Trying to make sense of a heart that still feels shattered. Trying to find myself again in the middle of all this. People talk about forgiveness like it’s a gift you give someone else, but I think, right now, it’s something I’m trying to give to myself—permission to hurt, to feel lost, to not have it all figured out. And maybe, eventually, to let go. Whether that means letting go of the anger, or of him entirely… I’m still not sure.

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.

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.

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.

Being a mom is the most rewarding and terrifying thing I’ve ever done. My little girl is only two years old, but every single day, I find myself wondering: am I doing enough? How to be a good mother when it feels like there’s so much to figure out?

Some days, I feel like I’m nailing it. We play together, she laughs at my silly songs, and I can see how happy she is. But then there are moments when I feel like I’m completely failing. Like yesterday, when I lost my temper because she spilled juice on the carpet after I told her three times not to run around with her cup. She cried, and it broke my heart because all I could think about was, “What kind of mom yells at a two-year-old over juice?”

I read parenting blogs and watch videos on how to raise happy, confident kids, but it’s overwhelming. There’s so much advice out there, and half of it feels contradictory. Be strict, but not too strict. Let them explore, but set boundaries. Make healthy meals, but don’t stress if they eat nuggets and fries once in a while. I’m trying to do it all, but is that even possible?

I see other moms who seem to have it all together—perfectly dressed kids, Pinterest-worthy lunches, and spotless homes. Meanwhile, I’m just proud if I can get her to daycare on time with matching socks. Sometimes, I wonder if they’re struggling too and just hiding it better.

I love my daughter more than anything, and I want her to grow up feeling loved, supported, and safe. But how do I know if I’m doing it right? Is there some magic formula on how to be a good mother, or is it just about showing up every day and doing your best?

If anyone has advice or has felt this way too, I’d love to hear it. I’m trying so hard, but some days it feels like I’m just fumbling through.