Six at the beginning is one of the least hopeful lines in the classic, and its bluntness is the point rather than a rhetorical effect. A pit inside a pit describes a querent who has not merely met difficulty but has gone deeper into it while searching for the way out, and the commentary's remark that the way has been lost is the practical content. The reading concerns disorientation more than damage. Somebody drawing this line usually cannot yet tell which of the things around them is the problem.
The position gives the reason. A yielding stroke in an odd place has no strength of its own, and it sits on the floor of the lower trigram Kan, below the one firm line in that trigram rather than at it. In a hexagram whose whole teaching is that danger is survived by keeping an inner firmness while the outer situation stays perilous, this line is beneath the level at which any such firmness has been found. There is nothing here to hold on to and no useful action available.
When the line changes, the lower trigram Kan becomes Dui and the figure becomes Limitation, King Wen 60, in which a boundary is deliberately set and then kept. Read from the bottom of a double pit, that destination is the first genuinely useful instruction the situation admits. What ends the deepening is not an escape but a limit, drawn at whatever depth the querent happens to be standing.