Rambo Sucks Sometimes

I was trying to be organised on Thursday and get some things sorted out. There are a LOT of things that need sorting out and I have a craptastic memory, so I made a list and then showed it to Rambo saying 'We need to do these. Preferably today.'

He thought I said 'YOU need to do these' and was quite happy about that, saying it was no problem and he could do everything on the list today. I was a bit miffed - I'm not THAT demanding and it's a bit bitchy to give him a huge list and expect him to do it all. I didn't, but the fact that he's so unfazed thinking that I did that upsets me in a 'how could he think that of me?' kind of way. I explain that I said 'WE' need to do them and he goes 'oh okay' and we start discussing what I can and can't do on the list.

One of the points involves a phone. Specifically, calling the bank about getting a new bank card as Rambo lost ours (it's a joint account, but he lost his card, then repeatedly stole mine because he couldn't be bothered to get a new one, then lost mine). I, due to social anxiety and brain foggy cock-ups with conversation and asperger-like problems, really really hate phones. Really. I'm sure I've mentioned before that just the act of picking up the phone and trying to dial a number often sends me into panic attacks and tears. I can't deal with phones.

This always pisses Rambo off, because while he's quite understanding about my physical problems, he's not so good with the mental. His entire family is of the 'mental illness is a sign of weakness, anybody can overcome it just with willpower' way of thinking. He tells me at times, when I'm upset, that it's my fault for choosing to feel that way and nobody can force me to be upset, it's all down to me.

So when I try to get out of doing that particular chore on the list, he gets quite mad about it. Despite being quite happy five minutes ago to do EVERYTHING on the list, he now thinks it's incredibly unfair for me to not want to phone people. I offer to do other things instead but this just makes him madder as the things I'm offering to do instead will hurt me physically and he thinks I'm choosing to hurt myself. I try to explain that the phone will hurt me mentally so I'm not choosing to hurt myself over not hurting myself, just choosing the hurt I find easier to cope with. He's still mad about it, and starts telling me that surely I'd recover from the mental hurt easier.

Then we started arguing over other points, one of which was writing a letter to certain benefits people. I explained that I have a lot of difficulty with writing and asked if he could do that one, and he explodes in an angry rant about how writing is what I DO for God's sake. I can't get a word in edgeways for a while but when he eventually shuts up I tell him that that's all well and good and if he got me a printer I could write as many fucking letters as he likes, but until then I still can't physically put pen to paper. He concedes and tries to write the letter, but fails so miserably at having legible handwriting that I have to take over. And end up in tears from the pain.

Anyway. I do all my chores. I (half-)write the damn letter and walk the dog and put some laundry on and put clean dishes away and collapse and can't do much else because I'm completely out of spoons. Rambo washes some dishes and ignores the rest of his chores to play video games.

He didn't even wash the things I needed to make dinner. Siiiiigh.