D&A get me worked up

When I moved in with my current roommate — he owns the apartment and rents out a room to me — we agreed to share plates, bowls, spoons, forks, knives… “Little did I know”

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio

I didn’t think twice and I thought OK, I didn’t want to bring my plates and bowls and all, I just brought the cutlery. I like my own cutlery and I like using it too, that’s why I brought it. But since my roommate only has shitty knives, he now always uses mine, always. And never washes them, just leaves them sitting in the sink in water for days. Every time I wanna use my own shit, which, as I said, I brought for this very purpose (I never use his), I have to wash them first.

But how do I tell him not to use it, if I myself use his plates and bowls?

I feel like it’s not the same, and I should say something, but my D&A side doesn’t want to get into arguments or confrontations, so I’m just angry inside.

True, all these pieces of cutlery are stainless steel, they’re probably not gonna rust, but I just fucking hate seeing them sitting totally submerged in greasy, dirty, nasty water for days. And like I said, my knives are decent, steak-ish, not those good-for-nothing ones that come by the half-dozens in those cheap, bland, off-brand sets.

It’s like moving in together with someone who has a shitty beat up 30-year-old car and you bring your new Lexus/Beamer/Benz/whatever and you agree, “OK, yeah, we’re gonna be sharing the cars now” and then you constantly find them driving yours. Plus you’re still the one who has to put gas in it. No, that’s not the case of “I will occasionally use yours it you don’t mind, when I don’t feel like blablabla.”

I feel like an idiot for getting all worked up about this.

Maybe some would think “Why are you blaming it on your Depression & Anxiety though?”, but I’d say it’s definitely a symptom of depression — hating something but not doing anything about it. Because I feel like it would be such a hassle. It’s like that with the cutlery situation and it’s like that with a lot of other things in my life, too. Everything is such a burden, and I hate myself for being like this.



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Decompression Chamber

Decompression Chamber

This is my De(com)pression Chamber, a vehicle I use to (com)municate my thoughts to decompress as I, hopefully, emerge from the depths of depression.