Everything I did, he criticized. Everything I was, he criticized. Every hope I had for myself, he criticized. I enjoyed a lot of different games before him. It was fun to hit a tennis ball back and forth. He cured me of that by hitting me hard with a tennis ball and throwing his racquet at me. I never played again after that. And I used to play yahtzee into the wee hours of the early morning at a slumber party or cards. After having the cards thrown at me in anger multiple times, I permanently lost the desire to play. He would also cheat like crazy and think it was so maliciously fun. Monopoly and other board games used to be so much fun in my childhood. Not so much after having the board and pieces upturned and pitched at me. I haven’t been able to play a game in 30 years atleast. Negative reinforcement works. I have never played a game of any kind with my children who are 19 and 24 now. He took that away from me way before they were born. He sucked the enjoyment out of any activity from washing the car to jogging to going to the beach or zoo. I couldn’t wash the car correctly because I was supposed to hold the sponge a specific way and use clockwise circles starting from the roof down. I didn’t scramble the eggs in the direction he wanted so he had to grab the fork and do it himself. He laughed at me if I tried to walk on the treadmill or exercise in any way. I tried to jog with him and even tried walking. He got angry because my pace couldn’t keep up with him. Bikeriding? No, that just didn’t go well either. We couldn’t do anything together.