You’re actually in a good mood – a rare gift. But as usual, he can’t stand to see you happy.
Before long, he’s popping in and out of the room, desperately trying to pick a fight.
Pretending to be light and breezy.
Maybe even charming – but just under the surface bubbles up the bile he’s about to spew upon you.
You can feel his energy practically burning you as he enters the room – it’s so intense you can almost feel him buzzing with vindictive venom, prepared to strike out for any infraction, real or perceived.
From somewhere deep inside your head, you notice he’s yelling at you – again. Shamelessly placing all of the blame for everything that’s wrong in your lives squarely on your shoulders – as usual.
He talks about how you’re just like (insert insulting comparison here).
He calls you lazy, stupid … not good enough.
He pulls trigger after trigger – literally trying everything to get your attention so he can unleash his pent up narcissistic rage all over you and finally relieve himself of the pain.
He uses you like a drug, to soothe his guilty and self-hating soul. As he spews his bile, you are melted, bit by bit.
Now you make a choice. Keep doing this. Or not.
What do you pick?