CW suicidal thoughts.

My anger is always held in until I just can't take it anymore. A lot of it comes from the accumulation of and frustration over little things. I also suffered through physical and emotional abuse as a child, so I've had to unlearn a lot of toxic behaviours I picked up from my family. 

Here's an example:

I did the majority of the household chores, shopping and cooking when I lived with my ex-boyfriend. He was the spoiled, beloved only son of doting, loving parents. I was the oldest of many siblings that often took on a parental/babysitting role since my parents neglected a lot of our basic needs. He got pretty comfortable relying on me, but he did improve somewhat with a talk or two, but it wasn't easy. 

His worst habit was leaving dirty dishes everywhere for me to pick up and wash for him. I would ask him to help with the dishes and he would agree. But, of course, it was not that easy. He would keep forgetting or just assuming I would take care of it if he didn't feel like it. I don't know. But the more I kept asking him, the more my anger would build up. I hated that I had to nag him to do it. Why couldn't he just do this one simple thing? Why did I need to ask him every single time?

So I tried talking to him about it. He'd roll his eyes or just say I was monologuing and that I didn't need to repeat myself. Nothing came from it and he kept it up. The rage kept building, but I had kept it together until then. 

I finally figured that this was a battle I had to stop picking. However, I was not happy that he'd leave his dishes everywhere. So, why not come to a compromise? I asked him if he could just put his dishes in the sink, I would take care of them. He seemed happy with that. But of course, he just kept forgetting and I would keep picking up the dishes and I was this huge enabler. 

And then one day, there was this plate on our table that he had left after eating. 

I loved this asshole so fucking much, but this plate was there just telling me that he didn't give a shit about me at all. He did other things to show he cared, but this was just too fucking much. I just wanted to work this out easily. He didn't even have to do the dishes, I'd do them. 

But I held it in. I figured, why not come up with a new solution? So I ask my ex if we could budget in money for a cleaning service, grocery delivery fees and/or a personal shopper. I showed him that we could afford it, but he wasn't having it. He didn't want to pay more than he had to. There was rent, utilities, his own school loans, car loans, insurance payments, etc. He had always had expensive gadgets from mommy and daddy, but god forbid we pay for anyone useful service that would take more off my shoulders. 

At first, I wanted to scream at him. But then I just broke down and had a full panic attack. *It wasn't easy. Relationships are too fucking hard. If I even found someone else, it would just be pulling teeth every fucking day because people fucking suck. I should just kill myself. I should jump out the window headfirst from our apartment building. I can't do this. I'm fucking dying. I can't breathe. I hate this motherfucker. Why can't it just be easy for once? It's like this with everyone.* 

But, of course, it just ended up that I'm the crazy girlfriend that broke up with him over a dirty dish.