Victim

I AM TIRED OF FEELING LIKE A VICTIM.   I am sitting here in my house needing a blanket and I already am wearing three layers.  Have a space heater going.  I am chilled to the bone.  I am feeling physically my emotional pain.  I hate it.  I get it, but I HATE IT. 
I was sitting here remembering good times too.  Trying to focus on that.  On how things could be.  But, in those times, I had to put in immense amounts of effort.  He did not easily get happy.  He did not easily participate.  He did not easily choose to be someone who made the people in his family feel good.  So many little things I did over the years to "make it better".  Things the kids have learned too. 
I am so very tired of living like this.  I want my bedroom.  I want a new bed.  I found a FREE king sized bed that was hardly used being given away by FRIENDS, not strangers....and he said..........NO.  I don't like my bed.  My grandpa died in that bed.  It isn't comfortable to me because the heater broke and it doesn't stay warm anymore.  I want my own room.  I want my own bed.  I want time to figure out if I can give this more of me.  I know that I SHOULD.  I just can't right now. 
But the whole victim thing nauseates me.  I want to be alive.  I want to be in my home freely.  I want to talk and laugh and have days that are full.  Instead, it's like tonight where I thought I was ok and then I nearly ran into him in the kitchen.  I'm sure that my startled reaction said loads. 
I suck at charades.  How is it that I'm not allowed to ask for what I need and actually GET IT?????  Ok, you got it, I'm kind of pissed off.  Seriously.  What is it about.  I'm sure that he's not going to make any waves right now because his mama is coming and God forbid that he should not have the perfect life. 
I have no clue how we will handle that time.......it is totally beyond my imagination. 
I need the space.  Desperately.  Fervently. 
I have no place where I am not a bother.  No place to belong.  No place to get to go, "it's ok here."  If I had a mama.........I'd go home.  Then, I'd come home and tell him to get moving.  I'd have someone who could love me.  Right now, I feel like I'm alone.  Not that I mind alone.  Hard to explain.  Feel like I don't have anyone that it's within my rights to say, "my life is hell and here's why.........".  A mama would be that. 
Yep, sick and tired of the victim.  But, unwilling to be rash.  STUCK.  It sucks.  Royally.  And I am pissed off that he doesn't even have anything to say but, "you bought a mixer?"
Glad I left my thrift store stuff in the car.  I mean, talk about scared....got home and hid it in my van under a shirt.  Left it there.  SO, brave enough to go get it but terrified to bring it in.  That's crazy.
What to do.......
I know, good christian women already know.  I think I've already established that I'M NOT HER. 
If there are stages, this is the anger stage.