This semester is dying a slow, very painful death.  In two weeks it will be over, and there won't be a thing I'll want to remember about it.
Today was basically the microcosm of it: I barely arrived at my lab session before the ubiquitous breakdown started at my end of the table, no doubt accelerated by the fact that recently I have only been able to sleep 5-6 hours a night because of more worries and regrets than I can enumerate here; and the sleep deprivation signs are showing everywhere.
At this point the others in the room have finally managed to figure out that there is no way I am going to get over the feeling of "you're only out to get me" that has plagued me all semester long (group work has turned out to be a step my heart was both not ready and willing to take), so they finally just did me a favor by leaving me alone and allowing me to leave quietly, early, without so much as an attempt at the session today.
Which brings me to the words I never thought I would have to say: There is actually a part of me that is hoping I flunk this chemistry course, even though it would make the spring very hard.  Nothing has taken place that suggests I deserve to or should pass it because the underlying people issues and associated memories that will not go away rendered finding a compatible tutor or lab partner virtually impossible...and what little help I had here was pretty much forced to be scrapped when some very bad things happened to her.
That's all I have to say.