Chronicle of a Sloth
I have lived with my current roommate for three years now, and while it was a poor decision on my part, I can surely say that I really hate her. And if hate is a strong word, I guess extremely dislike will do.
She is generally a nice person, friendly and courteous at times. There are some advantages of living with her: she is quiet and out-of-the-way, we both share some interests, given us being the same major, I can borrow her old books and homeworks and there are perks living in this apartment complex (but that's something to be discussed separately). In a way, I have benefited financially from living with her. Still, three years have shown me too much of her negatives that the positives can't possibly balance out. She embodies laziness, sloppiness and a worthlessness that angers me every time I look at her.
What began my dislike of her was the snoring: it is disgustingly loud. In the silence of our room, it echoes against the four white walls and grates against my ear drums. Its torturous nature didn't really show until I have abandoned the carelessness and fun-seeking ways of freshman year in order to salvage my grades. As I started staying up more and sleeping way past midnight, her aggravating snores began to truly affect my life. When I stayed up late, I risked not getting any sleep because once she began snoring, I could only pray for a lucky break. Those nights, I had to listen to my podcast or look at my notes until exhaustion takes me to unconsciousness. The solution: to sleep before she does. But her monstrous snores quickly dissolve my resolution. I was woken up multiple times in the same night many times due to the roaring sound from her side of the room. Exhausted, but helpless and indecisive of what to do, I could only lay there and wait for her snores to falter or for sleep to stop eluding me.
To think I would be able to build immunity from the sound from these past three years, I was disillusioned. In fact, it seems quite the opposite: I have become even more sensitive to it. It is an obnoxious sound, keening and thunderous in the dead silence of the night. Its sound varies, at times sick and breathy, other times roaring and obnoxious. Even my father's snores can't quite compete - his is a consistent sound at a static frequency that is easier to deal with and can at times lull me to sleep with its rhythm. Hers on the other hand, is inconsistent and unpredictable, depending on her sleeping positions. I find no anchor in its torrent of shifting sounds, getting higher then falling to a despairingly loud, but low pitch noise. So my eyes are heavy in the morning, my silence like ice and my behaviors lace with venom. She is to blame.
My anger toward her only catalyzed from there, as the less sound sleep I get, the more sensitive and nit-picky I become. I begin to pick apart her behaviors, disliking all the little, sloppy details. The more I was angry at her for the snoring, the angrier I get with everything else about her that to me was normal before. It was a vicious, positive-feedback cycle.
A great part of my frustration stems from bottled-up emotions and words-vomit that I have swallowed back countless of times. Despite my rage being blinding sometimes, I am not an unreasonable or irrational person. I am fully aware that she has no control over her snoring nor her bedside manners, and I try to be accommodating to this fact by not confronting her about it. It seems like a useless thing to do, because she has no ability to fix it and it will just end up as a scenario in which I have humiliated both her and myself in bringing it up. It is also an extremely embarrassing topic to discuss, and I don't want to be the person putting more tension on our already-strained relationship. So I keep the complaints to myself and swallow the urge to lash out at her. But I am neither a very mature or patient person - my anger can't stay hidden. It touches my behaviors and my words toward her, and soon I find myself expressing all my negative emotions through passive aggressive actions.
TBC
She is generally a nice person, friendly and courteous at times. There are some advantages of living with her: she is quiet and out-of-the-way, we both share some interests, given us being the same major, I can borrow her old books and homeworks and there are perks living in this apartment complex (but that's something to be discussed separately). In a way, I have benefited financially from living with her. Still, three years have shown me too much of her negatives that the positives can't possibly balance out. She embodies laziness, sloppiness and a worthlessness that angers me every time I look at her.
What began my dislike of her was the snoring: it is disgustingly loud. In the silence of our room, it echoes against the four white walls and grates against my ear drums. Its torturous nature didn't really show until I have abandoned the carelessness and fun-seeking ways of freshman year in order to salvage my grades. As I started staying up more and sleeping way past midnight, her aggravating snores began to truly affect my life. When I stayed up late, I risked not getting any sleep because once she began snoring, I could only pray for a lucky break. Those nights, I had to listen to my podcast or look at my notes until exhaustion takes me to unconsciousness. The solution: to sleep before she does. But her monstrous snores quickly dissolve my resolution. I was woken up multiple times in the same night many times due to the roaring sound from her side of the room. Exhausted, but helpless and indecisive of what to do, I could only lay there and wait for her snores to falter or for sleep to stop eluding me.
To think I would be able to build immunity from the sound from these past three years, I was disillusioned. In fact, it seems quite the opposite: I have become even more sensitive to it. It is an obnoxious sound, keening and thunderous in the dead silence of the night. Its sound varies, at times sick and breathy, other times roaring and obnoxious. Even my father's snores can't quite compete - his is a consistent sound at a static frequency that is easier to deal with and can at times lull me to sleep with its rhythm. Hers on the other hand, is inconsistent and unpredictable, depending on her sleeping positions. I find no anchor in its torrent of shifting sounds, getting higher then falling to a despairingly loud, but low pitch noise. So my eyes are heavy in the morning, my silence like ice and my behaviors lace with venom. She is to blame.
My anger toward her only catalyzed from there, as the less sound sleep I get, the more sensitive and nit-picky I become. I begin to pick apart her behaviors, disliking all the little, sloppy details. The more I was angry at her for the snoring, the angrier I get with everything else about her that to me was normal before. It was a vicious, positive-feedback cycle.
A great part of my frustration stems from bottled-up emotions and words-vomit that I have swallowed back countless of times. Despite my rage being blinding sometimes, I am not an unreasonable or irrational person. I am fully aware that she has no control over her snoring nor her bedside manners, and I try to be accommodating to this fact by not confronting her about it. It seems like a useless thing to do, because she has no ability to fix it and it will just end up as a scenario in which I have humiliated both her and myself in bringing it up. It is also an extremely embarrassing topic to discuss, and I don't want to be the person putting more tension on our already-strained relationship. So I keep the complaints to myself and swallow the urge to lash out at her. But I am neither a very mature or patient person - my anger can't stay hidden. It touches my behaviors and my words toward her, and soon I find myself expressing all my negative emotions through passive aggressive actions.
TBC