How bad did I f-up and/or how bad am I f-ed?

Two months ago, my husband packed his “essentials” and moved out while I was gone to a medical appointment. He left a note saying he had gone “on retreat” and was sorry. It was six days short of our 30th wedding anniversary, and eight days prior to his 60th birthday. We’d been arguing for a few months and were in marriage counseling. I have spent all 30 years of marriage as wife and mother, very little outside employment.

He has a history of anxiety & depression, four serious episodes since we married. He’s used weed (before we got married) & alcohol to self medicate, but never stuck with the hard work of therapy.

I am a 15 year “young breast cancer” (diagnosed mid 40’s) survivor and have struggled with health after affects of cancer treatment; chemo/surgery/radiation/estrogen blockers. I’ve had gall bladder removal (and just because it’s been gone for 9 years doesn’t mean you can’t end up hospitalized for 2 & 1/2 weeks due to sludge in your bile ducts), 3 artificial joints, numerous hand & wrist surgeries; anemia (my bone marrow was thumped). I have another surgery in September to repair an incisional hernia from reconstruction.

I started taking flying lessons (my career prior to marriage) in November and worked an extremely low paying receptionist job during tax season. It was full time+, averaging 55 hrs/wk. But it was fun. I remembered how much I like working. I was getting my confidence back.

Over the years I made the grave mistake of allowing him to isolate me. He complains when I have friends visit, go out with them outside his work hours or even talk/text when he is around. He was not happy my flight instructor is a man, the airplane is small and some procedures necessitate leaning across my instructor to perform.

I’m deeply hurt. I’m lost. I’m angry at myself and at him.

I’m open to all advice