Don't know why I'm writing here; these words are meaningless. I've got a consultation with the mental hospital/school on Monday and I'm scared to death. Or rather, I'm just scared. If I was scared to death I'd be happy. Or as happy as you can be once dead, at least. I don't know. I'm so confused. I sleep so much lately. Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm tired or bored. I haven't even been awake 12 hours and here I am falling asleep on the keyboard. Nothing entertains me anymore. Nothing makes me happy. I just feel like I'm boring everyone. Or like I'm invisible. I. Hate. Myself. And. This. Miserable. Existence.