Examining my Life

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I guess this is something we all do at the beginning of the new year. It's not very often I get to have a heart to heart with my husband. We went to bed just after midnight (he snoozed for a couple of hours in his recliner earlier - he usually goes to bed around 9/9:30). My father set the bar high on what a husband and father should be and I guess that led to some disappointment on that part. I had always hoped to have a large family, a loving husband, to be happy and successful. I feel my acquiring fibromyalgia can be attributed to some of my discontent. I honestly feel I have my ex-husband (1st husband) to blame for that. He was abusive and I took it. Though fibro didn't kick in until many years later, I believe that was the main cause. Then a colicky baby keeping me up all night triggered this awful condition. I am in my 59th year (59? really?!) and feel like I have accomplished very little. Pretty much feel that way every day. Being tired all the time is a punch in the gut to my days. I think the happiest I really ever am is when we are able to get away to the tropics. The warm, salty air are true benefits to my illness. Though we did get away earlier 2020 before the pandemic was pronounced, we didn't get to go away in the fall and don't know when we'll get to again. I wanted to be a published author and was very enthusiastic about it for years. Some where, some how, I have lost the passion. Or maybe it is just fear. Fear of being successful, fear of being unsuccessful. Or, again, perhaps the fatigue has taken over. Though I love my husband, he is not the type of man I had hoped to marry. (Again, my dad set the bar high). And every day I struggle to make our life a fraction of what I had always dreamed of. I suppose I could put more effort in. My goal at the beginning of last year was to get that dang book finished and out there. It's pretty much done. I have one thing I want to add and another full read through, but I just can't bring myself to do it. And with retirement moving ever closer and the threat of my husband forcing us to sell this house and move away from our children, my anxiety and depression worsens. I didn't have kids to move away from them. I want grandchildren and I want to be a part of their lives. I do have two daughters. (I wanted a big family). They are both struggling with their lives as well. But then, who isn't with frickin' COVID? I wanted the best for them and they looked like they were on the right path but layoff, layoff, layoff... who knows where they are going in life now? My older daughter is in travel and tourism. Who ever thought that would be a dying business? My younger daughter is a teacher but never got a full time position. Who ever thought that would become a dying career as well? I didn't have a whole lot of dreams growing up. That wasn't something people pushed like they do today. No inspirational speakers or social media/influencers. But the few things I really wanted have just resulted in a life of disappointment. I know what you are going to say.... get a therapist. Yeah, I've been thinking about that. But people telling me what to do doesn't work for me. It really doesn't. If the desire is not there, telling me how I should fix it isn't going to motivate me. If we can get some relief from this virus so we can travel again, that would do a lot to lift my spirits. My mother died early 2019, got my inheritance later in the year. My plans for my inheritance was travel. That dream has been shattered for who knows how long. Sorry for the long rant. Just had to get that off my chest. And there's a lot more I could say. It's just the tip of the iceberg.