Cracking up slowly

I failed a test today, for the first time since high school.  I am not in a good state.  The combination of stressing out over school, preparing to leave the country that I love, and uncertainty over the future has me teetering on the edge of fear and panic.  And things with Dave being so precarious at the moment has pushed me dangerously close to despair.  (That's a lie.  I am right smack in the middle of despair.) The result of all of these little messes is that I can't sleep, can barely eat, and certainly can't concentrate on school. 

So I failed my Arabic test.  Last night I remember thinking: I should study for this test.  I really, honestly should.  And then I remember thinking: I don't have one ounce of strength left.  I had to leave my apartment, get out, see people.  I was on the way into town when Dave called, and he was near my apartment, but I'd already left, and that knocked the wind out of me even more.  I tried to play it cool, but I don't know how to play it anymore.

And then this morning I was staring at this test, and I couldn't make myself care about it at all.  I left most of it blank, and half-heartedly filled in the rest.  I am alternating between an eerie numbness and the sudden inability to keep myself from crying.  Not good.