can't stand

I can't stand that the TV has to be so loud. And always on.
I can't stand the relentless channel surfing during each and every commercial. With, remember, the volume so loud.
I can't stand the nosy-ness of the "helping" by being sure to be the first to get the mail each day.
I can't stand that he's so heavy he's wrecking our furniture.
I can't stand the constant thinking about food.
I can't stand the cutting remarks.
I can't stand the passive-aggressive habits.
I can't stand the lip smacking.
I can't stand the obsession with germs and washing and making me feel like I'm a bad mom because I don't stress about things like that.
I can't stand the closed doors and the secrecy and the possessiveness.

I can't stand that I can't stand to live with them for more than a few hours.
I can't stand that I don't even like them.

I can't stand that it all turns me into such a negative person.