Having gone into Coot Overload myself several years ago, I know this turf a bit too well.
Then again, my first impulse is to dance on it. The day after I turned 50 was the day I took possession of the palatial estate at Surlywood; the last five years, while they’ve had their excruciating moments, were a hell of lot less painful than the five years immediately before. (I was arguably better off financially back then, but my mental state was agitated and then some, and frankly, I feel a whole lot better being smug and complacent.) “You must not forget to live while you are trying to save your life.”
Best advice I can give, with 56 creeping up on me, is this: If you need to ask if your time is up, it isn’t.
And, if available in your area, take advantage of Cash for Codgers.