Losing my grip on reality

I'm not having a good morning. I'm feeling quite mad.

Every little thing is upsetting me. My house at the moment is a total tip. I struggle to look after myself when I just had a single bedroom, but now I have a 2-bed house and a live-in mess machine (the boy) I don't stand a chance. Every six months or so I blow my top over the state of the house. I try to explain to the boy that I can barely look after myself and need support with the house. I explain that I hate that it's only me that thinks of hoovering, cleaning the sheet, washing the towels, cleaning the bathroom & using cleaning products. I explain that every once in a while I could do with him thinking of these things. And he says he'll help out more, be a better boyfriend & try and support me. And for a few weeks he's a bit more helpful, he picks up after himself and tidies the living room and kitchen (tidies, never actually cleans though). But the things that I actually expressed my concerns about - the towels, sheets, cleaning etc - they never get done. So I mention it again. And I get yelled at for trying to make him change. So I feel bad, I feel like it is my duty to do those things and I get on with it. Only I don't do it as often as it needs to be done, because I simply don't have the motivation, the depression saps ever little ounce of energy and interest out of me and I simply don't care. Only I do, because I end up having a morning like today where I am crying just looking at the dust on the stairs, the grime on the sink and the piles of laundry I'm expected to do.

And I end up questioning if I really want to be here.  Laundry and cleaning is making me question if I want to stay in a relationship with the man I love.

How fucking stupid is that?

And because I'm getting all emotional, I start to think of all the other things that bug me about him (or how I perceive him) and our life together and my life as a whole. That makes things worse, as there's plenty of things that normally we just grin and bear for the ones we love. But when I feel like this and I list them mentally I come up with a fucking great question mark and it breaks my heart.

There's a part of me screaming that I'm being ridiculous, overly sensitive; I'm exhausted and emotional. That my mental health crazy issues are blowing all of this stuff WAY out of proportion. Which is making me so angry at myself, that I can't manage to function like a normal person and just get on with my life. Being angry at myself makes me what to hurt myself, or binge or starve or shout and scream and cry. Actually, it makes me want to do all of those things.

And I feel so fucking crazy.