It’s no secret that letting your school choose a random roommate for you when you start college is a risky move. You could end up with the person who becomes your best friend, who you eat all your meals with, stand up with as Maid of Honor in each other’s weddings, raise your children next door to, and eventually room together again in the nursing home; that is a possibility you have to look forward to. Or you might get someone who tries to chew your face off at night. It’s a risk.
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| "Dude! What the heck! AGAIN?! And naked?" |
When I first started college, I had originally wanted to room with a specific friend, but she ended up commuting from home, so that didn’t work out. I ended up having to fill out an online form about myself, stuff like “Do you consider yourself a shy or outgoing person?” and “Are you a night owl or a morning person?” supposedly so they could match me with someone who had habits and values similar to myself. Whoever makes the final decision on these things is doing a terrible job.
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| "What's the worst that could happen?" |
Imagine me, please, on move-in day. I had communicated with my new roommate once or twice through email, but had never actually met or spoken with her. I was nervous and excited. I was shy, and scared to be living away from my parents, and wanted her to like me so bad.
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| Me, trying way too hard. |
At our first face-to-face meeting, I got that feeling in my guts that says Danger! This person already hates you! But I didn’t listen.
My roommate, “N”, was a little shorter than me, with dark blond hair and an irritated, impatient face. That’s how she always looked when she looked at me. Irritated and impatient. However, I really wanted her to like me, and tried to get along with her. Unfortunately, I’m shy, and very bad at communicating with other human beings. Nevertheless, let it be known that I honestly tried.
At first, our only trouble was a discrepancy in our sleeping schedules. I had some early classes, and liked going to bed early, or at least winding down and reading a book before bed, but N would sit up late playing Guitar Hero in the common room with our suitemates and the RA (who, I later realized, was really not supposed to get that friendly with the students in his hall). The noise from the game (and N’s near-constant screaming in anger, I assume due to her doing poorly in the game) made it difficult for me to sleep, but I understood that she didn’t want to go to bed early, and I didn’t want to ruin her fun, or the ‘college experience’, or whatever, so I never complained. I would just go to bed when I was ready to, and leave them alone in the common room to play.
N and I didn’t talk much. The atmosphere always felt extremely tense to me when we were in the room together. I have to admit, this was probably at least partially my fault since, as I’ve said before, I’m extremely shy and had a difficult time reaching out to people. Because N didn’t really make the effort to make friendly conversation with me, I was usually too scared to try and initiate it myself. I was invited to play Guitar Hero once or twice with my suitemates, and we did chat now and then, but for the most part, things were awkward and quiet between us.
When I realized that I was in real trouble was when I came back to the room one day to find a note taped to the door that said I owed N money for purchases she had made for the dorm (snacks, etc.). I didn’t have a job, and knew that I couldn’t afford to give N money each time she bought things, so I told her that we would have to keep our purchases separate, and that I just wouldn’t use/eat the things that she bought. Somehow, though, she got me to give her what little money I did have at the time (even though I never did eat any of her snacks), which I am still ashamed of myself for (for not standing up for myself more efficiently).
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| I'm the pathetic one on the left. I think I had maybe ten dollars to my name at the time. |
As time went by, it got worse. N kept buying things and expecting money. For some reason, she would buy toilet paper, even though it is supplied by the dorm, so I ended up having to bring in my own toilet paper, separate from theirs. N and our suitemates criticized the way I cleaned when it was my weekend to do it (they had insisted that, instead of everyone just cleaning up after themselves, each weekend one person would clean the suite). I tried to clean nicely, but they left their stuff all over the common room, so I had to clean around it, and it never really looked that nice. They complained that my friend (and current roommate) Sarah would often help me clean on the weekends. I still have no idea why this bothered them. I did not, in any way, coerce Sarah; she volunteered to help.
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| Can anyone explain to me what the problem here is? |
They complained that when I texted someone, the keys clicking were too loud. I began to feel overwhelmed by how much they disliked me, and I know that I’m not perfect and probably was annoying them without realizing it, and I’m sure that it made perfect sense to them why they didn’t like me, but to me, I was just a shy, scared, lonely kid with very few friends to confide in, who felt lonely and insecure every time I was in my room, where I should have felt at home. I remember every time I came back to that room, walking up to the door and praying that everyone was out, so I could relax. Or, sitting in the hall for hours, talking with Sarah, procrastinating because they were inside playing Guitar Hero, and I knew that I felt a lot lonelier in that room with them than I did walking around campus alone, and that’s pretty sad. I remember having panic attacks in the middle of the night, and hoping that N wouldn’t notice me freaking out because, even though she was the one panicking me, I still really wanted her to like me. I was constantly depressed, and I just wanted to sleep constantly, or play around on YouTube, or be at home with my parents. My psoriasis got really bad (it’s a skin condition, and it’s exacerbated by stress). Schoolwork never got to me, but my roommates did.
This may not seem that terrible to the outside observer, but trust me, it was nearly unbearable for me. When I wasn’t being bullied for money, I was being ignored completely. I can’t properly convey how lonely I felt.
It finally came to a head right before exams week of our first semester. One of our suitemates asked me to come into the common room for a ‘suite meeting’. I came out of my room, nervous, thinking that they were going to try to get more money out of me, or complain about my cleaning (I’m not a slob, by the way, so it wasn’t like I was leaving the suite filthy and they were reasonably upset about it). No, they started by trying to convince me that I didn’t want to live with them because I was so quiet and kept to myself. They told me how unfair it was to N to have to live like this because she had expected her roommate to be someone that would be her best friend (me too, N) and that it was really bringing her down and that they hated to see her so unhappy. They told me that it kind of freaked them out that I was so quiet and read all the time. They said that I didn’t know what living in a suite was about. I was a little confused. I asked straight out if they wanted me to move out, but they insisted that they didn’t, they just wanted to work this out. I said; “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m shy. I mean, I know you want to know a little about me, but there’s not much to say, I mean… What would you like to know? I don’t mind talking about myself…” They all gave me a look that made it pretty clear that they were not interested in learning about me at that point (not that, I guess, I blame them for that. After all, they had made up their minds at that point.) N faced away from me, arms folded across her chest, looking irritable and impatient (as I shall always remember you, dear N!), and I don’t think that she said a single thing to me until near the end of the conversation, when she finally spat out (still turned away; and I do paraphrase slightly, but not much):
N: Well, it’s really unfair for you not to pay for groceries and stuff that we all use.
Me: But I don’t use your things. I specifically bring in my own things so that I’m not using stuff that you paid for.
N: Well, what about the Swiffer mop? You didn’t help pay for that, but you use it to clean.
Me: I don’t use that… I looked at it once, but it didn’t even have the cleaner stuff in it-
N: But you looked at it, so you were going to use it.
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| GUILTY. |
Me: Uh-
Suitemate: And your friend always comes in to help you clean.
Me: I don’t understand how-
N: Yeah, you don’t even do it yourself.
This went on for a while. Eventually, they just said “we think you should move out” (which would had saved me some time and emotional trauma if they had just come out and said it when I asked), and told me about a friend of theirs who was moving out of a room down the hall because she didn’t get along with her roommate, and I mistakenly thought that they were asking me to switch places with her, but they quickly set me straight and made it clear that they’d prefer if I was actually in a completely different building.
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| "That's still a little close, don't you think?" |
After the ‘suite meeting’ ended, with my agreeing to their terms (that I contact the RD and make plans to move out by next semester) I got my coat on and decided to go for a walk to clear my head. As I left the room, our RA came in to hang out. He didn’t look me in the eye when he saw me, and I wondered if he already knew, if they had been confiding in him what a terrible roommate I was.
I circled the campus once or twice. At first, I was nervous and upset about the sudden uncertainty in my living arrangements for the next semester, but as I continued to walk, not in any particular direction or to any particular end, it really dawned on me how horrible I felt. I just couldn’t believe that I was so unlikable that three people had all decided that they couldn’t bear to live with me any longer. I ended up calling my parents and just started crying, and I’m not even embarrassed to admit it. Alone, cold, and in the dark in the middle of December, I cried standing next to the road, facing a parking lot, crying because for some reason, I am incapable of being liked, even a little. I was away from home, Sarah and I had been arguing, and my roommates hated me. I felt completely alone. I think it was probably my lowest point in college.
My dad came and got me. He took me to a diner because I hadn’t eaten, and I commuted throughout finals week. When I went home that night, I took as much of my stuff as I could, and as soon as I was given my new room assignment, I moved the rest of my things there. I barely acknowledged any of them when I went in to get my things; the hurt feelings were just still too raw at that point. But do you know what really makes me crazy? When I came back for the last of my things, I could smell popcorn really strongly in the room.
They’d been using my microwave.
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| Next Week- Vengeance |
