Being in the hole seems slightly less awful than the fall into it.
Or something like that.
I feel lousy today. Miserable. I carry on, getting kids where they need to go, getting work finished. I did miss an appointment I didn't want to miss. Once, a few years ago, I spouted off in a rant to someone I cared a great deal about. I told him the things I hated about him. It was a litany of what I saw as character flaws, with a list of ways he made me feel awful. It was blurted out in anger, it was cruel, unkind and withering. At the time I was surfing on my own emotions. I felt wronged and justified in my lashing out. I was wrong about that. I've felt ashamed of this thing many times since, but never so much as today. The tables were turned you see, and I was the recipient of such a list.