At wit’s end

Husband won't ever admit that he has it, although he had had virtually all the symptoms since I knew him and apparently before.   However, according to him, everything is MY fault; I am obviously the crazy one, because I am on meds for anxiety and depression; I am the one who has been going to a psychiatrist  for years, and I am the one who had an alcoholic mother and a drug and alcohol addicted criminal brother.  I hear that all the time from him. Yet husband has had all kinds of problems caused by his symptoms, including losses of jobs and promotions.   Right now, at almost midnight, he is just starting to clean up a mess outside before it rains he made working on something hours ago.  Yet he sat here reading for hours before he would go out and clean it up.  Somehow, the fact that he is cleaning it up at midnight is MY fault for having him do the original job, even though he could have put the stuff away when I originally reminded him to do it while he was reading.  Arghhh!  I feel like I want to slap him silly ( but I would never do that).