The Auto Body Shop

So, today I decided to go have an auto body shop look at my car and hopefully get started fixing it. I was in a four car pileup last December, car #3, and the insurance company of the lady who started the pileup, car #1, is finally willing to pay for damages. I was given a few shops' names from the insurance and called one to see what they were like. It seemed good so I asked my husband, Mr. Asshole, if he'd go with me today to see about having them fix my car. The shop indicated when I previously called I didn't need an appointment.

So, Mr. Asshole followed me to the shop. Well no, he didn't follow me: he sped in front of me. While he didn't know exactly where I was going, just the general vicinity, my chosen route was obviously not good enough and he had to go his way. Like an idiot, I followed him. At any rate, we got to the shop and went inside. I consulted with a woman who asked if I had an appointment, and I said no; I was told on the phone I didn't need one. She asked about insurance and if I had an assignment sent over, and I said no. Well, Mr. Asshole got really pissed and stormed out of the shop. I thought he was angry at the shop because they couldn't help me right away, but I was wrong; he was pissed I hadn't made an appointment. I followed him to the car (again, my mistake) and he started yelling at me in front of a customer and another person who works in the front office (that person was looking at someone else's car). He was yelling that I wasted his afternoon but since I was there I should just deal with it and have them look at my car. Huh? Isn't that what we went there for? Ah... WTF?

He, Mr. Asshole, got in his car and sped off. So, I got in my car and sped off, whizzing by him while he was stopped at a light. I went to work and got my insurance information with the claim number then returned to the shop, but he probably thought I was going against his command to stay there and take care of the insurance deal.

A few minutes later I got a call from Mr. Asshole, screaming at the top of his lungs how I wasted his afternoon and that I'm so stubborn and he hates that about me, and blah, blah, blah. He was angry, angry, angry and screaming, screaming, screaming. (I'll try to upload the audio clip if I can.) I haven't heard from him since (which is totally cool).

I'm really not certain what set him off or what I did to provoke this. I feel the tide shifting and his anger growing and tension mounting. Fuck. I hate this.

I feel disappointed in myself for marrying an abusive asshole. I feel guilty for subjecting my son to this man's angry outbursts and mean treatment. I feel afraid of the impending anger from him. I feel sad my son and I are living with a person who has us (or me) walking on eggshells.

As much as I say I don't care and how much of an asshole he is, the truth of the matter is I'm sad. My dream of finding a partner with whom I can share life's laughter and tears has turned into a nightmare as I realize I found the wrong partner: a narcissistic abuser.

I feel trapped. I feel scared. I feel overwhelmed.