Killing off tender feelings

Ron has just been awful today. 

First it would be the whole "I would be a terrible father" thing.  That was bad enough, depressing enough, on it's own.  Then it was the usual belittlement and derogatory comments about my faith when he found out I was doing my God time.  I tried my best to turn him out, but the last I heard, he was rolling off down the hall, ranting at God, a large glass of wine in his hand. 

On occasion, we watch church on my computer.  Good enough, although I have to deal with the drinking and derogatory comments during same.  I think he just likes to heckle and drink and "get away with it" while presenting a veneer of respectability. 

He went in his room and fell asleep.  Good.  Finally some peace around here. 

His alarm went off, signaling time for church.  He cursed and shut it off.  Considering his previous mood, the fact he's told me never to wake him up unless the house is on fire, and my continued desire for peace and quiet: I left him alone. 

I watched church.  While it has some valid points for Ron he wouldn't have accepted them.  He woke up, checked the time, and became very angry at me for not waking him up. 

I told him all my above reasons (except wanting the peace and quiet) and he just erupted.  How dare I make that decision for him?  I told him he made the decision himself when he cursed and turned off his alarm.  The curse indicated "I am not interested in listening to church today". 

He continued to attack me, bringing in everything from my weight, our sex life, and even my parents, saying "They wish you wouldn't call them anymore, and hate it when you do".  They don't care about me, he said, because no one does, blah blah blah. 

The neighbors had left for a while and I decided to lie down for a bit.  I am still pretty painful with the bladder infection.  I am drinking literally buckets of water. 

Ron continued to harangue, because, after all, he's the center of the universe and he'd better be the center of mine.  He finally gave up and "let" me sleep for a while, then shouted loudly that he had forgiven me, and he would keep forgiving me every hour or so.  Just playing sleep deprivation games, which equal torture. 

When I got up, I told him I was going to call the doctor because I wanted an appointment.  He said "Good!  I hope it hurts a lot!"  Now, sometimes he might pass that off as "humor", but in this case he was serious.  He's just being as sick and ugly as he can manage because that's how he thinks a marriage ought to be. 

Then he complains I don't love him, I never loved him, etc. 

I remember in the early days of our relationship he used to castigate me if I didn't cry enough when he said he wanted to split up. 

So I have put up walls, walls, walls.  I keep my commitments but it's more a grim sense of duty right now.  He does a very good job of killing off tender feelings, one girlfriend tried to kill him twice, and his best friend tried to kill him on another occasion, before running off with Ron's then-girlfriend. 

I just want to stop hurting: physically and emotionally.