Mine was fear too. I was frightened of hurting him! HAH! Frightened of hurting him? He was killing ME bit by bit and day by day and he didn't care one little bit.
I described what it was like living with him to a friend. She said that the extreme rage both of us were obviously feeling was very dangerous and it could lead to a very dangerous outcome. That's when I think I knew I had to get him out in order to save myself and my kids.