120. I wish I was dead, he said to himself over and over. I wish I was dead. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled, let alone laughed. He was miserable. He had done something really stupid recently. It had cost him a LOT of money. It was driving him crazy. Why had he done it? How could he have been so stupid? He couldn't get it out of his mind. He thought about it every day, all day long. All that money—gone! He couldn't have made a worse financial decision. It was ruining his life. He ate little. He slept little. He talked little. He was a somber man. He kept telling himself, It's only money, It's only money. But that didn't help. Nothing helped. Every day was worse than the previous day. His life had become a nightmare—a nightmare that he desperately wanted to end. 2.6