This Sucks

I don't know how much longer I can take feeling this frustration. I want to train and yet I'm so locked up by anger right now that all I can manage are tears. Honestly, I'm tired of the energy in this house. It's heavy and depressing. I come home to just about 18 square feet of floor space in a dark little room to try and do something and I can't. It's too cold to be outside and too cold to be in the garage. Every bit of ambition is sucked out of me.  And it fucking sucks. On the grand scale my drive is there, but nowhere near where I think it should be. The days I go to the gym are the best days I have training. I don't know if it's just cabin fever setting in or something else. 
Life has handed me a beautiful gift and so training has taken a back seat on the weekends and I'm good with that. I started this journey with not much company - my daughter was living with her dad during the week and I only saw her on the weekends, and I had no significant other.  It was just me and so I had plenty of time to kill by training. Now that I have her during the week, and a good man that I see on the weekends, it's time yet again for a rethink of my schedule. 
I don't know if my goals have changed, per se, or maybe they've been put into perspective.  Getting into a comp was my number one goal. I wanted to prove myself. Now, my number one goal is being strong for me and proving to me what I can do. The bravado has died down a bit, the intensity less noticeable. I still want to be the strongest woman in any given room, but I think the road to getting there is different now.
I see people training every day, some people doing 2 or three hours a day. I can't do that. I don't want to do that. I want to enjoy my daughter and my boyfriend. I want to have adventures in life, not just in the gym. But I also want the gym. I love that place. It's as if I have guilt for not being "dedicated" enough. But then I say "fuck that nonsense!". If I wasn't dedicated I would have stopped a year ago, but I didn't stop. I kept finding a way. Maybe it's this mystery guilt that needs to go. It makes me wonder why I do this. Who do I think I have to answer to? 
I'm still frustrated, still a bit anxious, still not working out. Whatever. Tonight still sucks. I'm going to drown my anger in food. Steak, to be precise.