I have comparatively low spirits today. I use the word "spirits" and not depression. I know everyone on this earth has such low spirit days.

Sometimes I chug along enjoying a lot of what I do. Then occasionally I feel a little trapped. I want to do something more, especially more in terms of contributing to the household income, but I don't know what to do. Also, so often my ideas are shot down by my husband. He doesn't mean harm, but I do get frustrated. When I fight him on such things, he almost (or does) start to cry in agony saying how much he hates his job and feels imprisoned by it, and that I'm not supporting him enough. He really wants to runaway (with me), but we don't have any firm plans on what to do, where to go, and how to make a go of it. The ideas there are (mostly all his) seem so stressful to me, or like a gamble. He's forcing his ideas on me again. His quasi dreams. And during this time before any action, only I am making superficial moves to help make his dream come true. I'm taking such steps to appease him. I'm hating it! Because of that, I'm failing.

I love my husband so so much and would never want to be without him, and hate to see him hurt. If I didn't care anymore, it would easy for me to just tell him to go his way and that I'd go mine. Having been on disability for so long, and putting a strain on a lifestyle (and ability for choices), I do feel guilty. If I didn't want to be with him as much, I swear that I'd give him everything I have and move on to start by scratch. Yes, I'd be quite poor, financially, but I would have a bit more independence.

My husband has always been more of the alpha person in our marriage. That doesn't mean I wasn't a strong, independent, assertive, and adventurous type before him and in our early years together. But my illness really dragged me down in so many ways. I lost a lot of the independence and an ability to support him, as he's needed.

We were and currently still are on my home turf, for the most part. Yet I'm a bit chained within my own backyard. If we move far away to his home continent, I fear I'll be such a fish totally out of water, hanging on to him for dear life. And if he were to ever leave me behind there, I wonder what I'd do. Years may pass and my roots at home may thin or even disappear.

It was only about 9 months ago, during a visit with my brother, that out of the blue he said something like "You know, BirdDancer, if ever it comes to it, I would take care of you." That immediately struck me! It was a loving and caring statement, but one that made me feel scared, weak and a little pathetic. As a young woman, I never felt I needed to be cared for. I traveled around the world by myself, paid my own way, and rarely ever flinched with fear. What has happened to me?!?!

Maybe I underestimate myself. What can I do to strengthen my foundation further? I have made good progress over the years since my mental traumas, but I'm far from being able to run a 5K in life.