Life... what's the point?I just don't get it.  I mean, I really don't get it.  Everything I touch turns to crap... kinda the opposite of the Midas Touch.  Every bit of progress I've made since I've left the hospital has all went down the drain.  I ruined the car I had by falling asleep at the wheel.  Now I've jacked up my dad's van, too.  The van has been messed up for awhile, I told him I'd have it fixed and he said he was going to... for me not to worry about it.  So I don't understand why he's trying to make me feel so guilty about it.  He just has to say..."Well, you have to admit that the car WAS your fault!"  Now, why would he bring that up now.. knowing how bad I already feel about the van not running right?  I mean, I just lost my transportation.  Now, I'm gonna be paying for two vehicles that I can't drive.  I have no way to work and no way to school.  So.. I just lost the only two things that made me feel better about myself.  I'm so sick of life.  I'm sick of trying anymore.  I'm just plain sick!  My uncle has a van he said he would sell me... but what happens when I touch that, too?  It's just gonna be another bad mistake.  So what's the sense in trying anymore?  I know... there is none.