That's right. A husk.
Lighthearted sort of
DP is obsessed with the the idea that we're going to be destitute and working until we are 105 because we don't own any property.
So we left our rented flat (yes it was extortionate for what was essentially not much bigger than the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley's, but it was ours and the area was lovely) in October last year and moved into DP's Dad's house to save money for a deposit.
I HATE hate hate hate it. The area is just horrible. People gob in the road and dogs shit all over the path. Someone got arrested for armed robbery on our driveway last week so we had six police units flashing their lights at 3am arresting the bloke and looking for a knife he'd lobbed in the bushes. There are regular acts of defenestration and as a result the front gardens are littered with random household objects. There are poor heavily pregnant cats waddling about when it's freezing cold. There's NOTHING going for the area at all, it's horrible. And it's miles from anywhere decent. (It's in a tube zone but barely)
I work really long hours- 8am-7pm five days a week. I'm a nanny and my charges are small so it's really full on. I'm on the go all that time. I run around playing and cooking and ferrying them to clubs and doing craft projects and reading stories and entertaining their freinds and and pushing them on swings and doing all their washing and ironing and bath and bedtime, the whole shebang. That's in zone 1. So I get up at 6am to make it there for 8, I get back at 8:30pm. I feel like I have NO quality of home-life whatsoever. By the time I get in I'm shattered and have hardly any time to unwind before I have to get up and do it all over again. I don't go to bed early enough because I have my own washing etc to do in the evening. By gevtime we actually sleep it's about 1am some nights. I love my job so not letting the tiredness overwhelm me during the day is a real challenge.
I'm honestly at the end of my rope with it. If DP one more time tries to remind me why we're doing it and how much money we'll save I will merrily skin him alive and have him made into a satchel. I don't want to get kicks from looking at my fucking ISA balance, I want to get home at a decent hour without wanting to murder people on the tube and have a glass of wine and have time to go to the gym or watch telly.
Apparently he 'understands' about the tiredness (and I really don't want to go down the route of competitive tiredness but the truth is, he doesn't) he works 9-5:30 in a middle-management office role where he freely admits that a lot of days are spent 'pissing about on YouTube' with the occasional early finish to go to the pub with his colleagues. His commute is also long though and he also hates where we live.
I'm actually earning a really decent wage now and could afford to rent somewhere really nice. But then we wouldn't save anything like the money we'd planned to (but could save some) We've got a wedding to pay for next year too but about half is already paid.
Last week I slept in a travel lodge by myself round the corner just so I didn't have to face the commute in the evening or the next morning 
So AIBU to say to DP I can't do this much longer and can we have our lives back please?