I really need to stop pleasing other people -- it does not make them happy

It's true. My emotional co-dependence started with my abusive dad, constantly trying to prove to him that a) I wasn't part of a conspiracy to kill him and b) reality is real, which never worked due to his mental illnesses.
` As I have found through the years, appeasement gets you victimhood rather than respect with people like manipulative roommates, which is why Lou Ryan and I have had to expel 14 of them from our home.

And now, I'm appeasing anyone who comes by this blog with... some sort of material:

I was working on my next post last night -- these things always take way more work than I think they're going to! I'm so conflicted -- should I study for my Spanish final right now, or try to finish this post I've been working on for months, and which I even have a deadline for?
` Also, my psychologist gives me homework to complete, but this time, I have two weeks to do it rather than one, so I'm off the hook for a while -- although the library book that I'm using is being requested by other people so I can't keep it for much longer.
` Of course, I should study Spanish because that's most important, but I'll try to squeeze in other things besides cleaning the kitchen, which I've spent the morning doing.

Anything to prove that I'm trying to be a good blogger -- got to blog about something, right?

Also, I don't know why I let this get to me, but while I was washing the dishes this morning, I kept thinking about how my crazy roommate told me last night that we should take advantage of a good deal on a dishwasher because, basically, I don't do a good enough job washing dishes.
` His bizarre fear of food poisoning is the very reason I keep some dishes soaking for days, just so that I can scrape every last spot off them -- and I'm still missing some, evidently. I don't know why his comment bothers me, I mean this guy does often need someone to say, "Do you even know what you look like to other people?"
` Why am I even reacting to it at all?
` After all, this is coming from someone who I've seen spend two whole minutes looking for a plastic spoon instead of washing any of the dirty spoons by the sink, and who was dumbstruck when I suggested that whenever I fail to scrape every last speck off a dish, that he should take the opportunity to do so himself rather than putting them on the counter for me to try at again.
` Evidently, I'm just not thorough enough for him -- this is a guy who has claimed to require a half hour just to dry himself off after showering, otherwise he's too wet to put on clothes. Why should I take him seriously in this matter?

In fact, the last time I remember this roommate doing any dishes over a month ago, at which time I was actually trying to convince him to see a psychologist and, after some screaming and outrage, he asked me to prove to him that I don't have any ulterior motive for trying to get him help.

What does that tell you?

Although I still seem to be worried about what he thinks of me, I have at least stopped making comments to him that betray my self-consciousness -- also, I've noticed he makes similar, yet more bizarre self-conscious comments and gestures on his own behalf. So, why should I care?
` Why be insecure when it comes to irrational and insecure people that I live with? Especially ones that aren't into breaking kitchen appliances, poisoning my cat, calling the cops for made-up reasons, threatening various types of harm, and otherwise plotting against people they feel oppressed by? Seriously, what am I afraid of?
` His last living situation ended when he felt so threatened by his one roommate that he punched him and got thrown in jail. What exactly was going on, I don't know, but based on my familiarity with what he perceives as threatening, it could have been triggered by many things.

Anyway, I need to stop feeling so down. It's not even like I have to do all the dishes: Lou sometimes helps, Brianade does his own dishes, and the third roommate (the one below my office) washes and re-uses his bowl between late-night snacks of Pops, Chef Boyardee and rocky road, so as not to leave a stack of bowls for me in the morning.
` So yeah, I get a break there. Although I'm probably the one largely responsible for not scraping off the offending specks, who even cares? No one else complains about them!

And why do I have to be so obsessed with cleaning the kitchen, anyway? I mean, yes, it gets ugly if I don't step in for a day or so, but why does it have to be a badge of my worth?
` Why do I take it personally when there's garbage accumulating on the counter above the garbage can and in grocery bags sitting next to the garbage can, but no garbage in the garbage can itself!??!

It's like, "Hello? I empty the garbage can so that you can throw garbage in it! Why don't you use it instead of make more work for me!?! It's not as though all that garbage disappears through magic!"

I don't think that kind of thing enters anyone's minds; it's really just habit from when the garbage can gets full and I haven't taken it out! After all, just putting garbage next to the can is much easier than emptying it. After that happened enough times, it just became habit, no matter how empty the garbage can is.
` Yesterday, mere hours after I'd emptied the garbage can, there was a grocery bag filling with garbage next to it, and almost nothing in the can! So, I threw the entire bag in the can to show where the garbage is supposed to go. I think it's catching on.

Well, I'd better get to my Spanish homework, and I'll probably not be done with this post I'm working on until late next week. Better late than never! Was kind of hoping to be able to show some people, but maybe I won't be able to.

Oh, and if that's not my next post, I shall be sure to put up something that extends beyond my personal and mundane difficulties, especially since they're so minor and boring compared to the utter sideshow I used to live in -- although I'd say that was some of my best material!
` In any case, it's mercifully mellow now, so nothing so horrifying or amusing is going on. I guess I ought to be happy. Weirdly, there's not even any music blasting or anything -- perfect for Spanish!

So, I'll get on that. Until next time!