Moving in with a roommate you have never met can be challenging. You have no idea who they are or what they are like. You will probably end up either being best friends or absolutely hate them. Here are some stories of people who had some pretty bad roommates.
The dirty roommate
“I’m a junior now and I have had bad roommates, but my freshman roommate was the absolute worst! She was VERY dirty. I mean, she showered once every five days and always had dandruff in her hair. She had this very thick black hair and would always twirl it till she could pull off the small strand of hair she was twirling. Believe me, I still find her hair in my things to this day. So, we lived in a triple and my favorite roommate told me something one time that was very gross and disturbing.The “roommate from hell” came out of the bathroom naked, came across the room and put her leg on her bed and pulled out her tampon. Shen then proceeded to sit on her bed. Something similar happened to me later in the year when my favorite roommate was no longer with us. What bothered me the most was how much she would Snapchat and talk to other guys. She talked to 7-8 guys a night! One time I got so fed up I threw a shoe at her. She also would Snapchat people until 2am and used the flash. Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep and the lucky times I could sleep were on the weekends because she went home. She also self-diagnosed herself to have depression, which bothered both my favorite roommate and I since we both suffered from depression and myself from PTSD. To this day, I have cut off all communication with her. She would also tag along with my favorite roommate and me wherever we went. She didn’t get the picture that we wanted to do things ourselves. She made friends turn on us with her sob stories and etc.”
The clingy roommate
“Upon moving in my freshman year, I ended up on the 18th floor of Lawrence Hall with a junior who I’ll call “Tim.” Since I started college at 24, it wasn’t a bad idea to room with an upperclassman. First impressions were positive and we quickly became comfortable in sharing our personal life stories. As weeks became months, things quickly began to get weird and uncomfortable. Suddenly, I found that he had grown attached to me in a way that was bizarre and unquestionably unhealthy for the both of us. Tim and I had initially done everything together: lunch, dinner, gym, self-defense classes, walks, and plenty of nights off campus all done in friendship(at least in my perspective). He even came to my house three hours away to meet my family and stay the night. Then came a point where I met another friend from Point Park, and so we went to lunch. Tim found out and immediately sought her out to question her about why he wasn’t invited to lunch. The precise wording of that conversation is unknown to me as I was not present, but I Don’t doubt the validity of its occurrence for one second. Suddenly, I found myself bombarded with negativity from Tim anytime I tried to have a life of my own. If I suggested doing anything by myself or with someone else, I would be met with a verbal assault or absolute silence. A stigma was in the air and fights began to occur on a nightly basis. Tim constantly complained of panic attacks and begged me for attention as the only source of comfort. Despite all the awkwardness and fights, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and tried to help him. I treated the situation like he was a brother in crisis with a situation I couldn’t comprehend or understand. I would hug him and tell him things like “I’m here for you. I want to help you.” I would spend the majority of my nights sitting with him as he spilled the most intimate details of his life to me. I was sacrificing my studying, my work, and my own happiness just to comfort someone I felt sympathy for. This was to no avail. Things became worse. I felt he was capable of committing harm to himself or even me. There are things that I don’t even want to mention that made me so uncomfortable, I never tell anyone. Eventually, I changed my tactic as I knew my patience was wearing thin. I told him, “I’ve done everything I can for you. I can’t help you if you’re not willing to help yourself.” I became more aggravated with each passing day as my phone would constantly blow up from him wanting to know where I was, and what I was doing. He began insulting and interrogating my friends on which side of the line they stood on as if he and I had become enemies. He made me believe wholeheartedly that he would end his life if I walked out of his life, although he never explicitly said this, he made me believe it. Finally one day during an exam, I felt my phone blowing up in my pocket. All throughout the exam, it buzzed constantly distracting me beyond my threshold of tolerance. When I left the classroom, I found he was texting me about the two of us attending a Halloween party. The text thread went on from “Why won’t you answer me?! What do you have against me?!” I texted him back to stop and became enraged, so thus did I. I took all day to collect my thoughts on what to say before going back to the room. Eventually, I did go back with the intent of calmly telling him how serious I was about the situation he had put me in. I went in to find him getting ready for the Halloween party. The first words out of his mouth were, “So are we gonna talk about this or what?”That little phrase was enough to throw me into a full-blown rage. I was so angry that I was screaming in his face as he cowered on the floor. At no point did I insult him, but I let him know just how sick and tired I was of what he was putting me through. I slammed the door and slept on the floor somewhere else. I immediately went to the front desk to find a point park police officer. I told him the situation as best as I could and to send tim help immediately. as mad as I was, I thought he could be seconds away from suicide. all night, my phone was blowing up. he was begging me to come back one minute and insulting me the next. I was getting long texts as long as this story. The next day, I apologized for my rage but told him I was moving out. Upon getting my stuff the next night, he was at first silent, but then he said something to set me off again. I don’t even remember what it was. I had to get my RE to help me move my stuff out immediately and I found another roommate right away. Prior to this I had my ear to the door and heard him talking to himself about how much he hated me. I was afraid he would destroy all my things so I had to get out.”
“The worst roommate I’ve ever had was my second semester of freshman year. I had just joined a sorority during my first semester with my first roommate(she was actually nice), and all the new girls were moving into the sorority house. This house held 42 girls, and unfortunately, my roommate got a spot in it and I did not. I had to find a new roommate by the next semester or I would be charged double my housing fee for staying in a dorm by myself. As luck had it, one of my friend’s dance team members was looking for a roommate for her apartment. I did not know much about this girl but she seemed nice. We talked and she agreed to let me move in with her. The first few months of living with her were okay, we hung out and went to parties, she even took me to the hospital once when I cut my foot. But things took a dramatic turn. She became extremely unfriendly towards me out of nowhere, and I learned that she talked about me behind my back. I confronted her about it and we had a nasty argument. She was rude to me ever since. Sadly that’s not the worst of what she did. One day, I had to go to a sorority meeting and I was out of the house for maybe a half hour. As I was leaving she said that she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. When I returned to our place, I discovered a lot of my stuff was missing. Even things that I had hidden in very specific places that only her and I knew where they were was gone. But nothing of hers was touched. The lights were left on and the window was open, to make it look like a break in, but it was obvious that it was her. I know that I had locked the window earlier that day from having it open so the only way someone would be able to open it would be if they broke it, and there was no sign of damage. I texted my roommate to let her know “someone” broke in and she didn’t seem concerned in the slightest, which was another red flag. She didn’t even come back to check on her stuff. I’m assuming she took my things and hid them in her car trunk or at her boyfriends. I never did get anything back, or get her to admit that she was the culprit. It was ridiculous. I ended up transferring schools after that year, so, fortunately, I’ve never spoken with her or seen her again. I did manage to get some revenge by denying her membership into my sorority, which she always talked about how badly she wanted to join. So, I felt slightly better about the whole situation. Either way, I feel bad for anyone who had to room with her after I left.”