Why, yes, I do look like the shithead here, don't I?

I blew up, I freaked out, I got mad, I'm the bad guy. It's all on me. Aren't I the unreasonable bitch? Aren't they just the innocent wounded parties having to deal with the sicko crazy woman. Poor poor little victims. Soooo mistweated and misunderstood. So sad.

What I find most interesting about interacting with emotional manipulators is how they can push past your bounaries til you blow up, then step back and play the oh so reasonable and noble hurt party. This is a game I do not play well. Especially not when I'm recovering from fricken emergency eye surgery.