He is having another one of his bullshit meltdowns last night.
Tells me I need to read a book about fighting fair.
Tells me I never own my shit.
Telling me what he learned in therapy.
I told him all he ever learned in therapy was how to run his games better and that he could take that psychobabble rap and stick it where the sun don't shine.
Starts ranting about how mean I am to him(modified 180 for my sanity)because I won't sleep with him anymore, I don't cook his breakfast every morning, I don't hug him or say I love you, blah, blah, blah.
I told him if I blew up and yelled at him every few weeks he wouldn't want anything to do with me either.
I mocked him.
"Poor me. She's so mean to me!"
Talks about how hurt he is.
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
Told me I started the last one over something that had nothing to do with him.
This isn't true.
I asked him a simple question and he used the opportunity to lose his shit.
Now he doesn't remember that and it's all my fault. Everything is always my fault.
Once again, me and the kids are just sitting here in his house disrespecting him and sucking up his paycheck.
A lot of times he'll start this bullshit with,"Can I just talk to you calmly for a minute or two?"
This time I said, "Probably not, so no."
Left the house for a while.
Heart is fixing to explode, I can feel my blood pressure rising dangerously.
I am sick and anxious all the time because I'm always bracing myself for the next onslaught.
But I'm just so mean to him. 
If I really gave him anything worth bitching about, I probably wouldn't live to see my children grow up.
I am so sick of his bullshit and mind games.
Poor baby.
I don't respect him.
He brought it on himself.
