I wish I was dead. I feel sick to my stomach because I know something bad is going to happen. I feel bad whether I am at home or at work. I am still just as anxious. God, I hate myself. I don't know what I am going to do when I run out of money. I couldn't sleep last night. I went to bed at 11:30 and was still up at 2:30. At 10:00 this morning, I had to drag my ass out of bed. I don't want to be here, I don't want to be awake. I am supposed to see Clarence in a couple of hours and then I am supposed to drive down to my mom's house. I don't know how I am going to do it. What is the point of trying anymore?