My ex, as well as sulking at 60,000 feet and Mach 2, could also sweat the small stuff quite spectacularly.
i remember once we took the children to the beach (one was in a buggy, the other was about 3, I think) and went to get ice creams from the van. He managed to drop his ice cream on the ground and threw the most epic tantrum about it. No he wouldn’t get another one, THAT was the one he wanted, stamped his feet, went red in the face, waved his fists in the air. It went on for a good ten minutes. The children and I were all 😲😲😲 in astonishment - it surpassed any tantrum they’d ever had, but I could see them storing it up for future reference. I told him to get a bloody grip and grow up, which prompted The Sulk. I think that one lasted nearly a week.
We went out to dinner one evening with another couple, a business colleague of his. I’d mad an effort, as you do, and thought I’d scrubbed up quite well. He ignored me during the dinner, the drive back home and for several days afterwards. Turns out it was because I’d worn nail varnish and he was envious. (His cross-dressing had been under the radar until then…)
He didn’t do illness either - I had a couple of emergency hospital stays (appendix, broken ankle) which of course were always at the most inconvenient times for his Very Important Job and the sulks were laid on thickly to make me understand just how much I was putting him out. But I think the worst of these was when I had a miscarriage - we were going to a large Christmas party and I was designated driver for us and another couple because I wasn’t drinking. I started bleeding before we left and tried to say I wanted to give the evening a miss, but he wouldn’t hear of it. I’d be letting everyone down if I didn’t drive us all there. So I did (what was I thinking??) and had a miserable evening as I started to bleed more and more. He sat at the other end of the table, steadfastedly ignoring me and refusing to leave until the bitter end. I drove us all home, and then spent a couple of hours in the bathroom as nature took its course. He told me to “bloody hurry up, I’m trying to get to sleep here” and that was the last thing he said to me for about a week.
Honest to God, looking back there were more red flags than at a communist party conference, but it took me so long to see them back then. And for a long time after I left - years - I thought it was me that was the problem. It wasn’t until I saw the pattern repeated with every subsequent relationship of his that I started to realise that it wasn’t. I actually get on really well with several of his exes now - we call ourselves The * Survivors Club 😊