Everything I do must be criticized. Every conversation with me, that is not for the purpose of fulfilling some want that she has at that moment, must contain some form of tearing me down a notch.
- "Why did you buy two packages of buns? Now I have to try to figure out something else to make on a different night to use the other package." [The two packages of buns I purchased were cheaper together, than the next brand was alone]
- "Why did you buy sharp cheddar cheese and provolone cheese? It was a simple either or. That's way too much cheese." [Both cheeses were mentioned to me in the message, asking me to go shopping. I wanted to provide a choice. Which ever is not used, can be used on another day. We are always using shredded cheese for one thing or another.]
- "Where's the cheese dip. I said plain cheese dip. Not cheese dip con queso. That's the wrong kind." [I bought what was available, and what we have purchased in the past. The only other option, at this store, was the white queso cheese.]
This is just the tip of the iceberg. Only three small examples of the greater beratement. And it never ends. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month. For years now.
Some days, it is to the point that I flinch at the sound of her calling my name, because I fear the constant verbal onslaught. Although I often prefer to just have her yell at me, that to engage in her sarcastic or passive aggressive comments meant to undercut me or belittle me.
It's as if she can't be happy unless she is tearing me down and grinding me into the ashes of any semblance of a person she might respect or show love towards.