Sharing space

I've been off from work for a week, with another week to go. The first week, I worked getting contractors set up for the tree trimming, the blind installation, and the tiling of the bathroom. I picked out tile and scheduled the measuring of the bathroom and the unhooking of the bath tub. I scheduled the installation of the tile. I went to the orthopedist, the orthotist, the urologist, the gynecologist, the general practitioner, the hair stylist and got a mammogram. I hunted for specialty light bulbs that had burned out. I worked on putting things away that are still unpacked. I was exhausted, but did manage to watch a couple of movies I had been wanting to see.
My husband came home on Thursday night, and immediately started his coming home routine of frantic activity, with its constant electronic accompaniment of television and radio. I felt invaded. I lost it-it being my temper, my cool, my mind. I started looking on the internet for noise canceling headphones. I found some and ordered them. I also started planning getaways from the house. I thought of going to our river house with my book, which I probably will do. I thought of ways to design a quiet space in my bedroom for reading. Mostly I felt scared. Not of physical harm, but of feeling trapped. Being trapped is my worst fear-being trapped in my relationship, in my family, in my job, in my aging body with its injuries and pains. When I feel trapped, I feel powerless, which leads to hopelessness, which leads to depression.
We bought this house for its numerous good features, but plentiful space is not one of them. I love my solitude. I love silence, which allows me to relax. I need silence in order to think clearly. Silence nourishes my soul. Without it I feel trapped.