Just maybe I'm to blame for all I've heard, but I'm not sure

The continuing saga of my saga continues.
Finally, today, after a two day long panic thing that made me unable to achieve REM sleep and in general made me twitchier than usual, I called Stupid Bitch and told her I'm moving.
First-I spoke with the Codes Inspector who is going to try to make a special stop on Saturday to look at the giant gaping hole in the floor. Then-I spoke with Legal Services who told me that based on the situation I should give 30 days written notice but since the Stupid Bitch clearly likes me as much as I like her simply informing her of my impending exit should be sufficient.
SO-with a little liquid courage (tea-good old tea-always go for a nice cup of tea-fixes what ails ya, it does) under my belt I phoned Stupid Bitch.
The conversation went something like this:
ME: "HI *Stupid Bitch* it's *Me*. I've found an apartment. I'll be out by August 1st. I know it's short notice, if it matters that much keep the security deposit. Keep it all. I don't care. I'm moving out."
STUPID BITCH: "OK." *CLICK*

Then my pulse rate sped up, my heart started pounding so hard that my chest ached and I went and locked myself in a stall in the restroom and had dry heaves for 5 minutes.

During that time Stupid Bitch called and told me that she had to inspect the apartment before I moved and if it was in the same condition as when I moved in I would get my deposit back. I don't know if I should call and tell her to wait until after I've moved out. I think I'll just leave her a note.
I'm not betting on seeing any of that money. If I have to be there for that inspection--I really don't want to be there.
And I don't really care about the money. It's $250-$300. $100 is cleaning fee. Won't see that again. $75 is a pet fee. No one ever gets their pet fee back. $125 is actual deposit. I've lived there three years. There's probably $125 worth of stuff that needs repaired. YOU KNOW LIKE THE FUCKIN' FLOOR!

I wish I had some motivation to keep me going after I get home from work. When I get home I'm so tired. Just exhausted, and I try to do work, but it's hard. I think I have a situational depression thing going on. Hiding the cat isn't helping. Everyday, I'm terrified that Stupid Bitch will let herself into the apartment and find the cat. I don't know what I think she'd do, but for some reason I have these irrational (I guess...) fears that she'd do something to Coupland. Accidentally on purpose leave the door open and let him out. To spite me for hiding Al. It gives me nightmares. I can't concentrate at work because I'm afraid she's going to come into the apartment.
Pretty much, I'm freaking the fuck out. I wish I could get at least Al (and maybe Coupland too-but that would be very depressing) out of the place until I moved. If I didn't have to worry about protecting them, well, I can protect myself. They can't.

Between you and me and the lamppost-I think I'm having a little bit of a nervous breakdown.