
row through exhaustion, fear, despair and stress; and as hard as I row I still find myself in the middle of the ocean, no land in sight.
So then I stop rowing, I get sad but I'm too afraid (or to proud) to actually feel that so I lie there in isolation, unwilling to move or do anything until I get scared enough to do something again.
All the while, hoping that someone will rescue me, that some how someone will find me, see that I need help and bring me to shore.
This is how the child of an absent father goes through life. We try as hard as we can, we work harder, we do more, we suffer, we do anything to achieve.