Cold House

We have lived for years in a cold house.  At night the heat is turned down to 58.....that is because it used to be 50 and I declared that it was cruel.  Getting up in the morning is quite the experience.  You can't see your breath, but some days it is really cold.  During the day 62 is the favored.....but I have pushed it to 68.  In our house, 70 is being a total spendthrift.  Lights get turned off in rooms while I am still in them.  for awhile there were "turn off the lights" plaquards on the light switches.  That was quite attractive.  The oven is turned off in the middle of a project over and over.  Leaving the door open for more than a few seconds when coming or going is wasteful.  No matter how many clothes I wear, I'm told to simply wear more to keep warm.  Soon, I'll be decked out eskimo style....to come in the house. No heat is allowed in the car.  Everyone should dress in ski gear...coats, long johns etc.  Seriously?  I don't think so.  I warm the car up before I drive it.  Including heat.  I turn the heat up early in the morning and go back to bed.  I push the switch up during the day.  I run an electric heater while I sleep. 
All to say that frugal is taken to an obsessive level in our home.  It makes me feel guilty all of the time.  Embarrassed when I have guests.  And, blankets are doled out to guest....but only certain ones.  If the specific blankets that are supposed to be in the room "disappear" then it's drama. 
I have been weary of drama for a long time.  I backed out of it in our marriage years ago. Said I refused.  What's the point of it?  I don't get it. 
And, what's the point of keeping a freezing cold house?  It doesn't feel homey.  It doesn't feel inviting.  It doesn't feel hospitable. 
I have risked this last year.  I turn up the heat when I have company.  And when I don't.  I like to make more than enough food....like knowing that everyone felt comfortable to have his or her fill.  When I was out of town a few weeks ago, my husband was in charge of getting a lunch together for our family friend for our daughter's birthday.  He had made not enough.  I came home and made him add to it....which he did sparingly.  We ran out.  It was uncomfortable for me. 
I don't like to be wasteful, but I like being thankful and I like using what God gives for good and gifts and pleasure.  I like seeing how He provides. 
Talking to my husband today when I once again got blindsided reminded me that for him it is all about him.  It breaks my heart.  Makes me want to shut down.  But, I know that there is always hope.  Although, with each kick of the toppling foundation, it becomes harder to rebuild.  I wish he could have loved me.  Really loved.  Not the: I'm here because I signed a paper and stood before God and people and said that I would be.  I mean the kind where you know that you matter.  Really matter.  I think that in life there are very few relationships that ever do that.  I wonder what the secret is.  It's not in being perfect.  Or in being false.  And it is NEVER one way.  I've had those friendships, relationships.  I am capable.  He doesn't know how to get past him.
It's sad for me to think that in all of this time he has been with a woman who could have been nurtured and loved into an amazing woman....and instead he feels shame about me.  Shame.  About me.  Wow.  It still makes me shake.  The cold feeling that isn't the house envelopes me.  And to think I've believed it.  And to think that he still has power.  To guilt.  To shame.  To dismantle confidence.
But mostly, to think that I am the one that GAVE him confidence.  That believed in him.  Encouraged him.  Helped him to see that he could do things.  He took that.  And he kept it.  But he doesn't know that he missed out on being the giver of such things. 
Am I sad?  Maybe.  Ambivalent?  A little.  Angry?  Not right now.  Weary?  Desperately. 
I am tired of living with someone who is ashamed of me when I have allowed him to take credit for things that were me.  Talk about an idiot.  I have given him a good reputation.  I have cared for his feelings.  I strove to make him feel respected.  I thanked him over and over for things that he would do.  Yes, it's past tense.  That's what is driving his current state....he doesn't know how to get me back into the little rut that makes me help him.  That makes me make him feel better.  And, thankfully, he doesn't know how to push me into a fight anymore.  I have changed.  I am growing.  I still quake, but the inside is stronger.  I still run and hide some, but it's only to regroup and to regain my sanity. 
Here I sit in my really cold house.  I arrived home late.  Came from someone's warm and hospitable and comfortable house.  It's sad.  I want this to be home.  Homey.  A refuge.  One day.  There is always hope.