A Monster Under the Bed

"Soph cries for me at night. It happens at least five times a week. She keeps talking about a monster under her bed. It's really hard sometimes to convince her that there isn't. Actually, hell, it's hard for me to convince myself that there isn't a monster under her bed. I had to stop taking my medicine--it erases all feeling. With it, I looked at my child, my _baby_ and had trouble digging for the things I _need_ to raise her--enthusiasm, compassion for others, a _genuine_ smile. So I decided I would deal. I have a good enough grasp on reality. I know what's real and what isn't. I just love her _so much_. So, if I see something and I don't think it's real... I will just tell myself it isn't... Don't look at me like that. You don't understand. You don't know what this feels like! Soph needs someone better than me, I know. And guess what? I'm selfish. _I_ need _her_. Otherwise, is there a point to anything for a person like me? Without her, there is no reason for me to even exist. What would you do?"