In the Heat of the Night

I have a heater fan.  It runs right by where I sleep.  Weird, but the white noise is comforting to me and keeps me from focusing on my busy household.  Of course, one of my sons told me the other day that dad told him that I am running up the electric bill by running my fan.  Shoot, we keep our heat at 58 or lower at night...surely I am allowed some warmth?  Probably not.  Anyway, apparently my son has been tasked with being sure that I get it turned off in a timely fashion in the morning. 
Regarding where I sleep....for some of you who are unaware....it is still in the living room.  I switch between couch and floor.  When I have migraines, the floor helps and being in the living room has reduced my stress by tons.  My third son, more astute than some might think because he is a total comedian, asked a couple of days ago if I would remain in the living room when the family arrived for the big graduation.  I asked if he was worried about it.  He just commented that,"you know, they'll talk about problems in the family."  My daughter chimed in and said that it doesn't matter because they are staying at a hotel.....snort.  Wise girl.  Have thought that myself.  So.  What will I do?  I don't plan on going back to the bedroom.  Just can't.  Don't think that I could do it physically or emotionally.  I don't want to cause harm.  I also don't want to live a lie.  Guess I'll know when the time comes. 
So, off I go to my sleeping time.  With my heater on.  Trying not to feel guilty.  Seriously??? A tiny little heater????  So whack.  But I have to keep remembering....and at night when I'm tired, it's the hardest to remember.....I am responsible for what I do with what comes....not for what comes.  I keep feeling responsible for how he feels.  How he is disappointed.  How he wants his needs met.  How he dislikes something.  But, his issues are his issues.  I have to learn this lesson.  I have to live in a way that says that if I need a heater on to sleep well then I can have one on.  And that if vacations or time away are desperately important to me, then I need to learn to incorporate that into my life. 
I do wish that it was different.  He has a nice guy persona.  Seems so good.  But to me....he is mean.  And, right now it's harder in that he acts like all is good and that he is happy with me....then tells my kids what he wants or how wrong I am.  Blah.
But, strangely....they come and tell me.  Go figure.  they trust me.  Love me.  Stand by me.  Not because I am better....but because I have let them know me.  And have gotten to know them.
And that makes the difference.