This story sure does bring back some bad memories for me… Because I lived with a control freak once upon a time and, let me tell you, it was NO BUENO.

For those of you who don’t speak Spanish, let me translate: it drove me insane, and I felt like I was living with someone who was actually WAY stricter than my parents. Doesn’t that sound like a lot of fun?!?!

Check out why this woman couldn’t deal with her roommate who sounds like the very definition of a buzzkill.

My roommate tried to ban me from using the bathroom after 9 p.m.

“This starts right as COVID was shutting the world down.

About eight months earlier, I’d gotten out of a pretty awful “relationship.” I put relationship in quotation marks because calling it that is…generous. It was more of a situation-ship.

The spicy time? Fantastic. Literally everything else? Dumpster fire.

Her dog was trying to tell her something.

My dog couldn’t stand him.

That should’ve been enough.

My dog weighs five pounds and has always slept in bed with me. My ex decided my dog wasn’t allowed on the bed unless he’d had a bath. Fine. Whatever. But then my dog started using this man’s shoes as a toilet

Here’s the thing…

That’s a red flag!

My dog DOES NOT mark. Ever. Except apparently when he met this man. Even my dog was like, “Yeah…no.”

I should’ve listened to my tiny, furry personal therapist.

ANYWAY…

After we broke up, I had to move out immediately. Within hours of getting dumped, I had my entire life shoved into my car.

I ended up moving back in with my mom and stepdad. They had two spare bedrooms.

Thanks a lot, Mom…

Stepdad immediately said yes.

My mother immediately said no.

Fortunately for me, it was Stepdad’s house, his mortgage, and therefore his final decision.

Trust me—this was absolutely not my first choice. When you’ve got your entire life packed into your car with nowhere to go, you’re not exactly in a position to be picky, and the plan was always temporary.

She thought she found a good roommate.

So I started looking for roommates and joined one of those roommate finder websites.

That’s where I met…her. Let’s call her Edith.

We were around the same age, had similar hobbies, and got along great over the phone. She was moving to the area after her divorce, while I’d already been living there for a while. She found a house where the homeowner was renting out two bedrooms.

Since I was local, I toured it while FaceTiming her.

She’s not sure she’d do this again.

Looking back…

Meeting my future roommate exclusively over FaceTime before signing a lease with her?

Bold.

Very bold.

But somehow it worked.

For a while.

It seemed almost too good.

I got the larger bedroom, so I paid more rent than she did.

Life was actually…nice. COVID had me working from home. She was unemployed for a while.

We decorated our shared balcony with string lights, comfy chairs, and an outdoor rug. We’d sit outside drinking wine, binge-watch TV together, cook dinner for each other, and go to the dog park together…

Honestly? I thought I’d made a lifelong friend.

Nothing lasts forever…

Then the universe started dropping hints.

Our dogs didn’t really get along.

Mine was extremely well trained.

Hers…

Hers regularly chose violence.

But it got even worse.

This dog used my bedroom rugs as a bathroom. Multiple times.

Then…

He went on my brand-new mattress.

She apologized. Never offered to help clean it. Never offered to replace anything. Nothing.

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THEN.

This sounds like a lot of fun…

She also spent a lot of time talking about her ex-husband.

Like…A LOT.

Every wine night eventually turned into the same conversation.

This would get old fast.

“Do you think if I text him he’d take me back?”

“What if I just explained myself?”

“Do you think he’s happier without me?”

“Do you think he’s seeing someone?”

Make it stop!

“If I accidentally ran into him somewhere, would that be weird?”

“Should I just send him one more message?”

“What if I wrote him a letter?”

“Do you think he misses me?”

Yikes…

It got to the point where I felt less like her roommate and more like an unpaid relationship therapist who was very underqualified for the job.

I always told her the same thing: there was a reason they got divorced. If it was meant to work out, it would.

But she couldn’t let it go. She constantly stalked his social media to see what he was doing, and because her parents still talked to him, she’d ask them for updates too. She always complained that they stayed in touch with him…

…but I don’t think she disliked it nearly as much as she claimed.

Looking back, the obsession was…a lot. And yes, in hindsight, I probably should’ve taken that as another giant red flag.

But it got better.

Eventually she decided to start dating again, which I thought was healthy.

I started dating too.

We’d go on dates, bring guys back to meet each other, compare notes afterward…

Normal roommate girl stuff.

Uh-oh!

Then she started dating one guy pretty seriously, and he started spending the night.

No big deal…

Except we shared a wall.

You can probably guess where this is headed…

GUYS.

You know that feeling when your brain hears something and immediately goes, “I wish I could uninstall my ears”?

Yeah.

That was me.

Could they at least try to be quiet?

We shared a wall.

Sometimes they were just loud.

Other times…

The TV volume would mysteriously jump to maximum.

LOL. Girl…I wasn’t born yesterday.

The roommate sounds really inconsiderate.

Eventually I mentioned it.

She laughed and said, “Well…at least I’M getting some.” As if that was some kind of flex.

Meanwhile, I was also seeing someone – my now husband. The difference? Nobody knew because I respected the people I lived with. Funny how that works.

Then the roommate got bossy.

Somewhere around this point, things shifted, and the friendship got weird.

I worked from home. She worked outside the house.

Whenever I’d come home around 9 or 10 p.m., walking up the wooden stairs would wake her dog. Which would wake her. So she asked if I could always be home by 9.

Okay. Not ideal. But sure. The people pleaser in me won that round, so…fine.

But that wasn’t the only request.

Then she asked that after 9 p.m. I stay in my room because walking down the hallway woke her dog.

….Okay…

Then one night I made the mistake of using the ice maker after 9 p.m.

Guys. You would’ve thought I’d set off the fire alarm.

Yikes!

She became absolutely unglued.

I got a wall of texts about how using the ice maker after 9 p.m. was disrespectful to everyone in the house and how dare I.

To be fair…I actually did feel bad about that one. I genuinely wasn’t thinking, and that ice maker sounded like it was trying to excavate fossils.

That one? Fair enough.

This is unreasonable!

Bathroom trips after 9 p.m. were apparently acceptable.

Kind of.

You know…unless my bladder decided to disrespect her dog’s bedtime routine.

And then, somehow, even that became an issue.

This went completely off the rails!

She eventually requested that I stop using the bathroom after 9 p.m. because…

You guessed it…

Walking down the hallway woke her dog.

Working from home is still working.

GIRL.

Be so for real right now.

She actually told me I needed to respect her work schedule because I had the “luxury” of working from home.

It was too much to ask.

Listen.

I’ll avoid vacuuming at midnight.

I won’t blast music.

But I am absolutely not scheduling my bladder around your dog’s sleep cycle.

This is sad.

Then came my final straw.

My boyfriend’s grandfather passed away, and he was devastated. I asked the homeowner if he could stay the weekend so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

Never Miss a Story

Sign up to get our BEST stories of the week straight to your inbox.

She said yes.

This shouldn’t be a big deal.

Important context:

Up until this point, BOTH of us regularly had partners stay one or two nights. This wasn’t some brand-new rule I was breaking.

One night around 4 a.m., my boyfriend got up to use the bathroom.

At the same time, Edith opened her bedroom door to use it too. He politely stepped aside and motioned for her to go first.

Yikes! The man is mourning!

Instead…

She exploded. She stomped away yelling, “GO THE HELL HOME ALREADY!”

Then slammed her bedroom door.

At 4 a.m.

Uh-oh!

Now…

Because of my upbringing, yelling and slamming doors instantly throws my nervous system into full panic mode.

I was shaking.

I became so anxious about walking down the hallway…

These people are all crazy…

…that I literally used a plastic storage tote in my bedroom as a toilet and dumped it the next morning.

Let me repeat that.

A grown adult woman was so afraid of another grown adult woman that she created a bathroom situation straight out of a medieval castle.

Typing that sentence is somehow still less embarrassing than her behavior.

Her roommate needs to get a grip!

The texts started immediately.

Apparently I was disrespectful. Couldn’t follow simple rules. Didn’t care about anyone else. Etc.

My boyfriend left early because he didn’t want things getting worse.

The next morning I heard her leave for work. I walked into the bathroom.

What is going on?

The trash can?

Gone.

The shower curtain?

Gone.

The bath mat?

Gone.

Her toiletries?

Gone.

The toilet paper?

GONE.

Wow…

At that point I realized…my dog really had been trying to warn me all along.

She texted me to let me know she had removed everything because it belonged to her and I wasn’t allowed to use it anymore.

Okay…

So apparently we had entered the “bring your own bathroom supplies” era.

She had to get out of there.

Imagine being almost 30 years old and expecting someone to carry a shower curtain from their bedroom, install it every time they wanted to shower, then remove it afterward and store it again.

I wish I were making this up.

Thankfully, my boyfriend and I decided we’d had enough. We found a place together and started moving me out.

She complained that packing was making too much noise.

This is crazy!

We moved everything out that we could until she got home, and then I was so afraid to use the stairs that we created what can only be described as an OSHA violation waiting to happen… 😂 and lowered almost everything off the second-story balcony into the back of the truck with ropes.

Was it ridiculous? Absolutely.

Did it work? Also yes.

Never spoke to her again. And that’s the story of how I once had to build a balcony pulley system because my roommate thought I shouldn’t exist after 9 p.m.”

Reddit users shared their thoughts.

This person weighed in.

Another individual shared their thoughts.

This person spoke up.

And another person nailed it.

Wow… This is totally over the top! I would’ve flipped out on her and totally lost my cool!

This has to be one of the worst roommate stories of all time!