My current situation is less than ideal and it really is no surprise that it is starting to get to me. Roughly six months ago my boyfriend decided he wanted to move back home because the university he was going to was causing so much stress and he hated the area we were living in. Since we had already discussed marriage and I wanted to leave the state we lived in I agreed to come along. I knew it was going to be difficult, but do we ever really know exactly HOW difficult sticky situations are going to be? No we don't. So we made the two day drive and moved in with his parents and two teenage younger siblings. First when we arrived the room we were supposed to stay in was full of junk. Both of his parents have a minor hoarding problem. So, it took us the entire first month to clean out this room. In the pain staking process we found mold on the walls from a leaky pipe. So my boyfriend busted his ass replacing the dry wall and repainting the room. He even replaced some of the ceiling tiles that were moldy and falling out. He put in new carpet and transformed the room completely. Of course all of this was supposed to be done before we got there. Now, there were two cats that lived here before we came, and then my boyfriend and I brought our two cats. So when one of the teenager's cats start urinating everywhere they blamed my cat. Not my boyfriend's, not any medical causes, my cat had to take the blame. so I dragged THEIR cat to the vet FOUR TIMES because it had a recurring urinary tract infection. My boyfriend paid meds for THEIR cat four times. So we got and visit his grandparents one weekend and his mother calls us to inform us that she has dumped my cat with my boyfriend's brother. She did't call and ask. She just did it. I was furious. Not only is this a piece of my property that I had invested over $500 in, but it was my pet. So our entire road trip was filled with fighting. I picked up my cat and found out the reason they dumped was because he was urinated out of the litter box and instead of taking him to the vet they dumped him. So I took him to the vet and found out he had a urinary tract infection an inflammatory bowel disease induced by stress. I can't even believe after I've taken their cat to the vet dozens of times that they couldn't bother to even pay me back a little and extend that generosity to my pet. Then his mother started to complain that we had our bed room door closed all the time. Because apparently we aren't allowed privacy either. Since we were already financially strapped I knew I couldn't afford my cat's knew medication so I tried to find a rescue the would take him. I called over a dozen rescues and no one called me back. So I was forced to put my cat down. Than a month after his death one of those rescues had the nerve to call me after I left them a message in tears about how desperate I was. Well, I thought I had pretty much hit rock bottom. But not. Since we moved out here I have been diagnosed with OCD. So I see a therapist once a week. When this first came up, my boyfriend's mother just said "Why doesn't she take meds and get over it?" Because meds are band aid. They don't address the root cause and they just perpetuate the problem. (Which after months of therapy I can function quite normally now so you can shove your meds up your ass). I have had OCD my entire life but it really went crazy out here. Why? This place is filthy. The main floor rooms are tolerable because they can still fulfill their function. In fact, you wouldn't even suspect that a hoarder lived here. But the basement, where my room is. The laundry room is full of bins of crap just piled willy nilly and there is barely enough room to put the clothes in the washer and dryer. The other room in the basement is unusable. Its full of boxes of crap that the cats of pissed and shit on over the years. (Before I got here the litter box got done maybe once a month, who knows it was nasty) Our room is the only room in the basement that is clean and completely usable. There spiders and bugs and probably snakes running around in all that crap. And any suggestion to get it cleaned up leads to awkward angry conversations that get no where. So now that you see what I'm working with. I pretty much do everything around the house. I make dinner, do the dishes, do everybody laundry, take of the animals. EVERYTHING. His mother will go through phases where she will help out a lot for like two days then for months she does nothing but order around my boyfriend like he's some bastard child. He goes to school full time and has just started a full time job. And she still gives him shit. She coddles those teenagers and they do nothing. They bitch and whine anytime someone asks them to do something. These kids are massive fucking brats. They disrespect their parents and feel like the world has to wait on them. I fold their clothes and they sit on the living room couch literally for months. So I bring it up to their disgusting rooms. Anytime my boyfriend even suggests they get off their lazy asses and help they turn around and say "Well what do you do?" It takes every fiber in my being not to slap them across the faces. My boyfriend is the only one who helps me out and honestly, with school and his job I don't think he should have to. Which apparently his mother thinks he does. She asked him to do more and her excuse was the kids have school. Oh so my boyfriend doesn't? He doesn't have school? He does nothing? I'm sorry but screw you. No one ever asks what can I do to help out? All they care about is themselves and I am so fucking sick of it. The next step is me wiping everyone's ass. And you know what I am putting my foot down. I'm tired of the bullshit excuses around here. So today when I picked up the living I just dumped all the shit that wasn't mine on the dining room table. I am not a maid, I am not a slave, I am not an indenture servant. I am a human with feelings and deserve some fucking respect too. I can't wait till we've saved up enough cash to move out of this hell hole. And I so know my cat is flipping them all the bird from Heaven.