A beginning or an end?

For years I've thought I was lazy, crazy, depressed, or just weak.  Turns out that mostly I'm sick.  Sick with arthritis, sick with spinal stenosis, sick with fibromyalgia. 

Now I'm sick of doctors, sick of trying to explain the difference between "sick" and "sick with something you can catch", sick of being glad it isn't something worse, sick of people offering solutions, sick of spending my money on prescriptions instead of Christmas.

Mostly, I'm sick of trying to keep a positive attitude while still being realistic.  If my dream job involved sitting behind a desk, it wouldn't be a problem to strive for more.  But when your dream involves 12+ hours of manual labor, and not being able to work means the likelihood of animals and plants actually dying, being realistic gets a whole lot more important. 

I know that I can and will find a way to do the things I want, but it seems that people expect me to have those answers now.  Maybe the answer is to farm as long as I can and have an escape route.  Maybe the answer is to find a business partner.  Maybe the answer is to give it up, find a desk job, and accept the change.  Maybe the answer is something I haven't even begun to consider.