In a passing thought, I know the answers to all those questions: Somewhere and somehow, I believe that failure is not an option for me. If I fail, I become the statistic that all little girls without fathers and who've lost parents at an early age become. The question is, at what point do I free myself from those constraints? Would my mother really want me to still be trying to beat the odds 30 years after she departed? I think not. However the compulsion to survive is overwhelming.