Undeserving

Listen, just because you're overworked and cranky doesn't give you license to make snide comments about how I live my life. Just because I'm not an obsessive workaholic like you doesn't mean that everything I do is inherently done the wrong way. It's in very poor taste to rub my face in your disdain. Oh, so it's surprising that I'm sitting on the couch instead of at my desk in my room for once? You know as well as I that it's factually incorrect to say that this hasn't happened in several years, and maybe I'd come out of my room more often if you weren't such a bitch. I didn't ask for your opinion, I pay my rent and my portion of the utilities, I clean my messes and don't steal or destroy your stuff. I am respectful of your space and try to be quiet when you're sleeping. You just resent me because I can still rely on my parents for money. Your parents haven't paid for anything of yours (but they have for your sister!) in decades because they're plain old assholes.

I've taken pains not to allow myself to become spoiled, I don't flaunt my financial dependence, in fact, I'm rather ashamed of it. I've worked for all but one and a half of the years that have elapsed since I became old enough to legally hold a job for precisely this reason. I know you don't see any of that when you look at me staring at my computer when you get home from working your second job of the day for the fourth day in a row, all you see is your lazy roommate who gets everything she wants handed to her on a silver fucking platter. It's just so unfair that some people have everything so easily and you have to work so hard just to barely scrape by.

Yes, I realize that. It is unfair. But what the fuck do you want me to do about that? I'm just trying to find a job like every other fucking unemployed college graduate. So what if I can survive for a few months without needing food stamps? This automatically makes me a bad person? I'm inherently undeserving of my familial support simply because I've never had to truly suffer like you? You're so goddamned self-righteous. Who are you to judge me? I know you've had more than your fair share of difficulties in life, but I was not the perpetrator. I've listened to your goddamn self-absorbed problems for how many years now? I sit and listen to you for hours and hours and hours, I cheer you up and distract you when you need it, I offer advice when I have it, I don't push you, I'm not rude to you, I treat your bitchy judgmental comments as if they're really the jokes you pretend they are. They're not funny. I can hear the bitterness in your voice, I can feel the barbs you don't even realize that you plant every time you open your mouth.

I keep aspects of my personal life somewhat of a secret from you because I am weary of opening myself up to criticism and judgment every time I speak with you. You don't need to know about X, Y, or Z things that I do because I know you won't approve if I don't recite a litany of logic to support my decision to do X, Y, or Z, and it's just tiring. I know that I will need to have quite a lot of mental energy on hand if I'm going to have a "real" discussion with you, and that amount of energy is not something I keep on reserve for you. And quite frankly, I'm losing the patience. I'm losing the will to muster even the minimal amount of energy it takes to maintain our friendship. I deliberately make sure I'm not in the house when I know you'll be around; I sleep in until after you leave the house in the morning and stay out late enough so that you'll be in bed by the time I get home just so I don't have to interact with you.

You are so tiring that instead of telling you any of this while you sit six feet away from me on the other couch, I am passive-aggressively typing this out in a whiny blog post. I'm so fucking sorry, jesus christ. Get over it.