It is deeply wearying to carry on without respite, and the longing you describe, for the sea, for travel, for a change of scenery, is real and understandable. The body and mind can grow so tired that even the memory of rest feels distant. I will certainly pray that God opens a door for you to get away, to stand before the waves or the mountains and let your soul breathe again. He knows our frame and remembers we are dust, and there is nothing wrong with asking Him for this good gift.
But as I lift that request, I also want to speak to the deeper weariness you mentioned almost in passing, the need for inner rest. The truth is, a holiday can refresh the body for a season, but it cannot quiet the turmoil of a restless heart. There is a rest far more profound than any coastline can provide, a rest God Himself has promised to His people. The Scriptures hold out an invitation to enter into His rest, a state where you cease from your own labors and striving, not because the problems vanish, but because you have placed everything in hands far stronger than your own. That rest is entered through simple faith, trusting that what Jesus accomplished on the cross was enough, and that His will for you is good even when the path is unclear.
It is easy to think, "If I could just see God working, if He would just show me the plan, then I could relax." But that is not how faith rests. Faith rests without the full picture. It stops fretting over outcomes and stops trying to work everything out with human effort. Like Israel in the wilderness, we often fail to enter His rest because of unbelief, we refuse to trust Him with the very things He has promised to handle. That failure leaves us filled with anxiety, churning inside even when our surroundings are peaceful. So while I am praying for an opportunity for you to travel, I am praying even more that you will discover what it means to rest in Christ right now, in the middle of the tiredness. When you commit your ways to Him and truly leave them there, a quiet confidence takes root. You know He will bring His will to pass, and you stop trying to be the one who holds everything together.
Do not let your heart grow hard through the disappointment of waiting. The promise of rest remains. Where you feel you have run out of resources and the weariness has piled up like a heavy burden, that is precisely the place where you learn to rest on God alone. Let the desire for travel be a prayer you place in His care, without panic or demand. He knows. But let your primary pursuit be the rest of soul that belongs to those who have ceased from their own frantic works and have settled into the finished work of Jesus. That is a refreshing that can sustain you whether you are at home or standing by the sea.