AITA here?

Here’s a transcript of a voice conversation w the grown man today. For context, we’ve been together 5 years and share a child. He is unemployed and I have a FT job along with doing gigs on the side. I also have a ton of health issues. Just to name a few: SI joint dysfunction, 4 bulging discs, a cyst on my spine, hypermobile EDS, PCOS, dysautonomia, along w severe panic disorder and being on the spectrum. I have already explained to him how I’m under extreme stress due to barely making ends meet and constantly working and still struggling. The stress is so bad that I’ve been clenching my jaw so hard in my sleep that it wakes me up. Anyway, today I started having severe pain after doing a lot of bending for one of the gigs, so I asked for his help. Now a few hours later, this is the “conversation.” AITA?

Me: sitting on couch silently crying Him: Care to explain what’s going on? Me: (still crying) I think I already have. Him: What? You being stressed? Me: Yep. Him: So are we gonna try to address some of the reasons as to why you’re stressed … other than bills? Me: That’s the majority of it. Him: You told me that being an adult has the responsibility of every day living, making sure bills get paid, making sure you’ve got food, making sure you’ve got a roof over your head, all those things. Me: Duh. Him: Don’t be smart. Me: I’m not being smart. What you’re telling me is something that I already know, hence the stress. Him: The duh wasn’t needed. Stop. The duh wasn’t needed. You have told me all of these things, k? Me: mm-hmm. Him: There is no rule book for being an adult. Here’s why: because everything is so always changing. Everything’s always changing. Things don’t get easier, they get harder. Life is what it is. With that being said, you’re always gonna have bills. They’re always gonna be recurring, whether it’s a phone bill, whether it’s a car payment, whether it’s gas, whether it’s food, whether it’s to keep the lights on. You’re gonna be forking over money no matter what you do.

Me: Don’t you think I know that?

Him: Because you sat there and told me the way I was thinking was that of a homeless person, but at the end of the day an unhoused person ain’t gotta worry about lights, house, cars, all that stuff. They only gotta worry about clothing themselves, making sure they’re clean, making sure they got a —

Me: And now you know why I said you think like that.

Him: Uh-uh. proceeds to talk about the unhoused benefits for several minutes, including one person who chooses to live in a tent so they don’t have to worry about the stress levels

Me: So what you’re saying is you want to go live in a tent?

Him: How did you get anything that I just said-

Me: Because I’m trying to figure out how that’s relevant to my stress levels unless that’s your suggested solution.

Him: Stop being cynical. Stop being negative. I’m trying to have a conversation with you and the fact that you keep blabbing out with smart *** comments is why I don’t want to have a conversation with you or talk to you.

Me: You don’t even let me speak. You don’t let me have a voice.

Him: because you keep saying smart *** s***.

Me: I’m not being a smart***.

Him: You said duh to me twice, then sat there and said “Oh, so you wanna live in a tent?” Really?

Me: Because the fact of the matter is—

Him: (screaming) How about this? I feel like you want to live in a mental asylum because your *** can’t do a gd thing by your f*** self. You have to f**** complain about your f**** gd jaw hurting, then you had to come out your gd mouth talking about some, “These packages hurt my back.” Half the gd packages in that gd car were small and you couldn’t even do that your gd self? Make that s*** make sense. You just wanted me in that gd car to do it for you. Let’s be clear. You lazy. You want someone else to do it for you.

(Still screaming) Let’s be clear on that. You wanna come out with smart*** comments, I’m gonna come out my mouth with how I f*** feel. You’re lazy. You want the benefit of someone else doing it for you, that way you can point the finger and when you don’t get your way, you sweep them out and you go get a new one.

Me: (no words. Bawling at this point from being screamed at and belittled.)

Him: You go find somebody who will do it for you. Let’s be real. Every time you don’t get your way, you manipulate. You come out your mouth with smart*** s. Explain that. You so stressed. You so wound up. B, you don’t f** sit down to do nothing else but work, work, work, work. The f*** bills gonna always f**** be there. They always gonna be there, recurring, back-to-back. It never stops. So you gonna constantly be stressed over bills because they ain’t gonna go nowhere. They never gonna stop. They gonna keep coming. They’re recurring.

It’s a part of being an adult, which you clearly think you know all about. Right? You know all about being a f**** adult, right? Your a** knows every gd thing. Your tears right now mean s*** to me. They mean s*** to me … because when a person tries to have a conversation with you, you shut them down and shut them out like what you got to say is way more important. You stressed? I’m stressed.

Me: (still no words and still crying).

For over 3 minutes, I sat and cried while he screamed. This is a new thing where he makes me feel like I did something to deserve being treated like this, so I started recording everything. Part of me knows there’s no excuse for this and that I’m being abused, but there’s a tiny piece that still believes him. So I’m asking y’all, AITA?