I live in LA with my brother and while I love him dearly and he has helped me out immensely while I’ve been trying to get back on my feet, it feels like it’s getting harder to fully do so because of his continuously bad attitude. I complain plenty, so I’m no saint, but he complains ALL the time. Even about things that are literally just part of his job. He complains when it’s slow and has nothing to do but scroll on his phone all day (boo-hoo), but then he complains when it gets busy and complains when customers act like customers. Every little thing he seems to find a reason to complain about it instead of enjoy it for what he DOES get out of it… and it’s absolutely draining me.
I struggle enough with my own immense depression, but even when I manage to get myself back on the upswing, it’s quickly sucked dry whenever he passes through my room to vent. And I don’t even ASK him what’s up, I STOPPED, so I’m literally not even inviting him to talk and vent to me, I am literally in the middle of my own goddamn thing and he’ll just barge in without any consideration for whatever I’m working on and just start talking at me. And then get mad at ME when I have to ask him to repeat the first bit because I couldn’t even hear or understand wtf he was saying because I was neck deep in something more goddamn important.
Also, he never does any of the chores at home during the week. /: I have to do all the cooking, dishes, cleaning, scrubbing, every single day. Like maybe ONCE every two or three weeks he’ll be like H’OKAY, WE NEED TO DO STUFF, let’s vacuum and tidy up. Like… bro. I’ve BEEN tidying all week. Why tf do you think there’s still dishes for you to use?
I wouldn’t mind it so much either, but he never seems to notice or appreciate it. He only ever notices if it DOESN’T get done, like if I’ve been pulling double shifts– during those times, I *literally* don’t even have time to eat at home. I just come home and pass tf out, then wake up later, wash up and rush back off to work. And yet the dishes will STACK THE EFF UP like f****** crazy. NONE OF THOSE ARE MINE, WTF BRO. And yet he’ll passively jab ME about how I haven’t been cleaning up lately. Like, f*** you??? UGH.
I’m getting so tired, guys… š I just want to move out. I want my own place, alone. No roommates at all.
But I feel bad… my brother gave me a place when I first moved out here, and he helped cover the bulk of the expenses during that time, and it lasted too long for my liking (but was unavoidable because f****** medication trial and error and doctor visits and evals and yadda yadda Y-UUGH.)
I’ve been trying so hard to do right by my brother and take care of him any other way I possibly can, but I feel like I’m starting to hit the end of my rope…
