Anonymous Venting for Mental Health and Emotional Support

A couple of years ago, I had a fight with my dad over getting my device taken away from me. While I was leaving the argument, I slammed the door behind me due to how pissed I was. My dad proceeded to open the door, grab my wrists and give me a huge smack and yell at me. My sister and mum were away at this moment so I went to cry on the couch without an apology.

A few years later, we go to this cat cafe one day to shoot the breeze. He tells me he booked an appointment but going up to the receptionist, she says the appointment didn't register. He starts yelling and complaining while I'm just standing there awkwardly. I look over to the only customer in the waiting room and he looks awkward too. I remember while walking out of the building I heard him say something about leaving a negative review on the business' google page and I'm just over it. It was only half an hour later at a shopping centre where on top of that embarrassing moment he kept on yelling at me that I own barely any clothes that I broke down where he continue badgering me about why I was crying (read the room, dipshit).

Tonight I was eating dinner with my dad and sister, I put in yoghurt into my food and said to my dad "you put out yoghurt instead of sour cream" which we typically put on this meal instead. I give him sort of a joking-annoyed face and he suddenly goes ballistic about my attitude (the pot calls the kettle black...) and basically throws the sour cream and a spoon onto the table. I continued eating my dinner in silence and then went to my room. An hour later he comes in and apologises, which would have been fine but he gets anger at these small things so frequently that I'm having a hard time accepting it but basically says that its my fault for having an attitude.

These are only a few instances of shitty things he's done because if I listed them all, this post would be a novel. I'm just so sick of him. He's such a miserable sod and so damn hypocritical that I'm surprised my parents are still together when its obvious my mum is afraid of him too (for instance, after another 'yelling at employee' incident, my sister starts to complain and mum basically responds with "let's just see how he goes" instead of doing anything about it). I like to think I'm a forgiving person and I try to give the benefit of the doubt but he makes it so damn difficult. It feels like I'm walking on eggshells every time I do something remotely mean-spirited. I honestly might just dump him in a retirement village when I'm older if this continues.

My school has started, but it's online. I'm in 9th now. And right now, why not expect this? Everyone acts so serious about their careers, but you know what's funny? They don't care by 10th. Why is my family treating this like this is good for my career, when I'm only 14? Not that they're super adamant about it, but fuck 'em. I'm tired of being nice or kind or accommodating. Where has it gotten me? Tired, alone, friendless, and fucking losing my shit every 5 seconds now with people's BS. I wanna drink a beer, but I'm too young and it tastes bad. Remember my MEFCC post? That's all in the fucking past! Fuck! It's postponed to September, but hey, I didn't book any tickets. I didn't commit, so I can just NOT GO to be normal. To be an adult. I wanted to so badly be accepted, with people like me, but growing up is realizing life will never go your way and the only person with you is you. I hated this, but now, I'm just sleepy, this means I've accepted this truth. There is already too much going on. My school is online, Dubai is getting bombed by Iran, MEFCC got postponed, my exams are on June, I'm with the same class who excluded me, and everyday, I am convinced kindness hasn't gotten me anywhere. Fuck! I gave up the dream. It was a dream after all. The dream to have a good time at school, to have fun in an event with folks like me, to try again in exams and succeed in it, to dress up and have fun, to just be. But it's a dream, I've accepted it. I've come to terms with the fact that everything is pointless until it is perfect. By that logic, I'm worthless. I wouldn't care if I passed or failed exams, or if I went or not, I wouldn't even care. When you fail once, the best thing is to give up. It's easy. Adults live life easy. Don't try to reach godhood when you're mortal. Don't try to aim for niche or freelancing when you're the only scummy, sick scoundrel doing it. I am a fucking cunty scoundrel.

Living together for a month now, but honestly, it feels like we barely share a word. I'm 23, and I moved in with my boyfriend eager to see where life's adventure takes us. Only I didn't expect most of our conversations to orbit around crypto currencies or him dreaming up the ultimate SaaS powered by AI... Of course, it's important to him, but where’s the part where we talk about our day, or laugh at dumb memes together? He’s either buried deep in his work or scrolling through his phone like it's a third limb, sometimes I feel like I'm a ghost drifting through my own home; invisible, unheard.

I’m not asking for serenades under the moonlight or love notes slipped under my pillow, just some basic human connection. But when I bring it up (rarely), he’s often too busy calculating ROI or trading stats to notice the void growing between us. So here I am, wondering: what am I even supposed to talk about with him, when it seems pretty clear his mind is hardwired to the blockchain and AI algorithms? I occasionally try bringing up topics outside his tech bubble, but then it’s crickets from his side. It's like I'm speaking in an alien language.

Maybe it's cliché, but we genuinely didn’t sign up for this distant cohabitation, right? Moving in together was supposed to be about growing closer, sharing experiences, but I feel like I'm vividly relaying them to a wall sometimes. So what do others talk about when you feel disconnected? Or am I just expecting too much from this relationship already? Maybe I should jump into his world?? but how do I show interest in global crypto market trends when I barely understand what they mean? If this sounds familiar to anyone, how do you leap the chasm and bridge this gap? Or should I just accept that maybe, awkward silences are our new normal?🤷‍♀️

I (19-year-old male) told my mother I was gay today.

To start with, I've know i was gay for years yet I've never told anyone, not a friend, not an acquaintance, and especially not a family member. The though of coming out was near paralyzing to me, i feared so much. I feared I'd be shunned, i fear they'd treat me differently, i fear they'd kick me out, I fear loosing the people I loved(my family).

However, recently I started watching a show, Heartstopper. It's quiet a warm pallet cleanser of a show, and yet It gave me the push of courage i needed. As such, I decided I wanted to tell my mother, the person I love and am closest to in my family.

I tried to temper my nerves the night before, I wrote motivation on my arm(I'm ready, I'm wonderful, & I'm strong), listened to music, prepared words to say, etc... and yet my nerves didn't loosened much(I could barely fall asleep). Even with these nerves, i managed to push myself through the anxiety and start the talk.

Now it wasn't smooth, it wasn't perfectly direct at first, but It was the best I could do. I literally started it with the question "Are you good at keeping secrets?", thankfully my mother seemed to sense that I wanted to say something. Eventually, after much internal struggle I managed to get to the hardest part, just saying "I'm gay".

She actually reacted with such kindness that I didn't expect. She didn't deny my feelings, she held my hand, she said "I love you". I'm honestly getting a bit teary just thinking of this. In my head, I had so many fears and doubt about how she might handle this, yet she took it so well.

She even said she "kinda suspected it", that she had a hunch from when i was 2 and i pointed at a hot guy on the cover of one of her romance novels and said "I like him" which is so silly. I don't ever think I felt so relieved as i did in this moment.

Now don't get me wrong, my body was still in fight, flight, or freeze, and so i kind of ran away soon after to process everything that just happened.

Overall, I just wanted to share this recent moment of my life that touched me deeply, and gives me hope within my many fears and doubts.

i am 31, a woman, and this is a plain report from the wreckage, not a dramatic one. my husband and i signed the divorce papers recently, after 5 years together, and the official reason was infertility, which is a clinical word that still lands like a brick. we did the fertility workup, the hormone panels, the timed schedules, and the consults with soft voices and hard numbers, and the output was the same: no kids, no forward plan. he wanted a family in the standard format, and i could not supply the deliverable. the strange part is i still love him in a stable, low-noise way. there was no scandal, no affair, no villain. people keep saying “time heals all wounds,” but how long does it take to forget someone when the bond was not toxic, only incomplete?

i ask that because forgetting does not look like deletion to me. it looks like data migration, where old files keep showing up in the wrong folder. i still know what coffee he bought, how he cleared his throat before saying something serious, how he stood in doorways like he was waiting for a cue. these are not useful metrics now, but they remain in storage. i can explain the divorce in detached terms: incompatible life goals, failed reproduction timeline, emotional resource depletion, mutual decision under stress. that makes it sound neat, and it was not neat. it was just quiet. the lawyers divided assets, closed the case, and everybody was polite, which almost made it worse. no one tells you that a civil ending can leave the biggest afterimage. i loved him before the marriage, during the marriage, and also after the legal offboarding; i think that is the bug in the system. some nights i do root cause analysis on my own body, like maybe if i trace the defect far enough i can bargain with it. then i remember i am a person, not a factory line.

still, the trend line is not hopeless, and that matters. i am sleeping a little better than last month. i eat without treating food like medicine. i went outside yesterday and the air did not feel like a punishment. this is minor progress, but progress is still progress. maybe forgetting is not the key performance indicator anyway. maybe the better question is whether a person can remember someone without collapsing around the memory. i think that is where i am heading, slowly and badly, but still heading. i keep hearing, “the only way out is through,” and i hate how useful it is. i do not believe i will never love anyone again, even if my brain keeps filing him as the main reference point. i also do not believe my life is over because one plan failed in production. if you have loved someone good and lost them for reasons that were not evil, did the feeling fade, or did it just change temperature? i want an honest answer. for now, i am trying to be kind to the woman in this case file, which is me, and i think she may become someone i can trust with a future again.

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.