The Pit of Despair (don't even think about escaping)

I wake up every morning with dread.  I know that something awful is going to happen every day.  I can't shake the feeling, because something always does happen.  I say always, its a given that every weekday will have some sucky thing happen.  It's a high percentage possibility that the weekend will suck as well.

I struggle with my own self.  That's hard enough.  But I also have to struggle with and for Libby.  She fights every morning to stay in bed.  She, too, knows that sucky things will happen.  Because sucky things happen for her, too.

Maybe it's a missing homework assignment.  Maybe a thoughtless remark.  Maybe it's a forgotten phone call or email.  Maybe it's just overwhelming grief.

I remember, once upon a time, when I could wake up with happiness, looking forward to the day.  More often than not, life would be good.  I could say "look for the good" to the girls and know that there was good out there for them.  Once the ultimate happens, it's hard to see the good.  It's practically impossible to see the good.  Sometimes it's hard to remember that good once was.

It's really the Pit of Despair.