Whenever I think that things cannot be worse, something happens to point out how wrong I am. Now I have been asked to leave the house. The only place I have to go is to move in with my mother. There is absolutely no joy left in my life. I never laugh and never smile. I used to laugh and smile all the time. I used to have a great sense of humor. It has left me. The things that made me glad to be alive have left my world. Yesterday, I did a dry run for my suicide to work out the kinks, and make sure that everything would go smoothly. When the time comes, and it should very soon, I am sure that I will be successful. In this particular case failure is not an option.