Their thoughts then turned to physical symptoms that plagued them, adding another layer to their already complex narrative. "I feel like my left ear is about to explode," they shared, their voice tinged with concern. "Literally, the last three days, my left ear started ringing and buzzing. It only happens when I'm trying to sleep so far."As they delved deeper into their past, Alex's narrative took on a poignant tone, recounting moments of abandonment and resilience that shaped their journey. "I feel like the past is haunting me more and more," they reflected quietly. "The reason why I always got into trouble was to escape reality and run from it. I still had issues back then, but I didn't pay it any attention."

Their voice trembled with the weight of their experiences, each word a testament to the resilience forged in the crucible of hardship. "I'm 17, lived in 8 different foster homes," they recounted, their voice gaining strength with each revelation. "1 juvenile, but here, you weren't allowed to have any form of contact with other youths, only when we had to eat or we had an event."

The complexities of family and identity surfaced, adding layers of pain and longing to Alex's narrative. "My mom backed away when I was 5," they shared quietly. "And my grandparents made an effort to take care of me, but that didn't last long, and then I moved away from home at 9 years old."

Their journey through adolescence was marked by a relentless quest for stability amidst the turmoil of constant change. "Man, I don't know," Alex confessed, their voice raw with emotion. "I haven't talked to anyone about it, and I don't know how to show that I'm actually a mess in the head and need help."

Yet, amidst the darkness, a flicker of hope remained, a desire for connection and understanding that echoed through their words. "I really want someone to talk to," they admitted softly. "I thought I could get some other view of things."Their reflections turned inward once more, grappling with the dichotomy of their inner and outer selves. "Sometimes I wonder why I write all these notes," Alex mused, their voice tinged with both longing and uncertainty.

"Not that I don't know why it's just that every time I write, I always get this thought that I should talk to someone about it, and in that moment, I really want to share my thoughts. I just don't know who."

Their journey through self-discovery and healing continued, each word a step towards understanding and acceptance. "When I wrote about my ear, I was ready to show my thoughts to my doctor," they confessed quietly. "But then I just couldn't."

In the quiet of their room, Alex found solace in the act of writing, a lifeline amidst the storm of their thoughts. "It's almost like I got different personalities based on where I am," they reflected, their voice fading into the silence. "In school, I keep my distance, but I still manage to seem like any other. The only thing that's noticeable, I think, is that sometimes I just be spacing out and need time for myself; I don't know, to be honest. When I'm home, I just spend time in my room; fuck this."

And so, Alex's journey through the complexities of adolescence and self-discovery continued, a testament to resilience and the enduring quest for understanding in a world that often seemed indifferent to their struggles.

Alex's days continued in a blur of monotony and introspection, each moment fraught with the weight of their own thoughts and emotions. Lying in their undone bed, surrounded by the glow of their TV screen, they found themselves teetering on the edge of a void—where emptiness threatened to engulf any semblance of purpose."I'm bored as hell, ain't got nothing to do," they muttered to themselves, their voice a mere echo in the confines of their room. "Just laying in my undone bed, staring at Instagram art accounts."

Despite invitations to socialize, Alex felt increasingly detached from the world around them. "I was invited to eat sushi and smoke weed," they recalled, their thoughts drifting through the offer like smoke dissipating in the wind. "But I'm tired of spending money just to be with people."

The prospect of social gatherings brought mixed feelings—desire mingled with discomfort. "I wanted to, but also wouldn't," Alex admitted, their ambivalence palpable. "I'd just be the quiet person, staring around, and I don't know all of them, so it's really awkward, and I just don't know."

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Their inner conflict spilled over into their thoughts about upcoming plans and obligations. "Also, they want to visit me and celebrate my birthday and smoke," they mused, their voice tinged with weariness. "I'm tired of it, honestly."The burden of maintaining a facade weighed heavily on Alex's mind. "I almost have to force a personality to hang out with them without them judging," they confessed quietly. "I'm really having deep conversations with myself."

Their thoughts drifted towards the future, a nebulous terrain they struggled to navigate. "Can't wait to finish my PC so I can play all day," they remarked, their voice holding a glimmer of anticipation amidst the gloom.

In moments of solitude, their mind wandered to darker places. "Somehow, three hours passed," Alex noted, their words trailing off into the silence of their room. "I looked for my cutter but couldn't find it, so I tried a saw; the teeth are weak, so they can't cut that well."The urge to self-harm lingered, a persistent companion in their battle against overwhelming emotions. "I'm thinking about brushing my teeth," they acknowledged with painful honesty. "But I know I'll just grab a razor from the bathroom and start. Damn, it's like a drug. Just a little bit of sadness makes me want to cut."

Their days often blurred together in a cycle of isolation and introspection. "Damn, I really spend half of my weekends laying in my bed or sitting in my room," they reflected, their voice a whisper in the stillness. "And we've got vacation before Christmas. Or not vacation, but off school. I hate those periods."

The relentless march of time brought Alex closer to a significant milestone. "And I'm turning 18 soon, WTF," they exclaimed, their disbelief mingled with a sense of resignation. "I didn't think I'd make it there, but I guess I did. Yay..."

Their thoughts turned towards societal expectations and the pressures of adulthood. "I don't know what I want to do, and I can't handle a job," they confessed, their voice tinged with frustration. "I can't explain why I can't get a job, even though the whole explanation is right here."

Existential questions plagued their mind, questioning the purpose of societal norms. "I also don't really care if I'm jobless," Alex admitted, their words a stark contrast to societal expectations. "What's the point in getting a job? Get money to buy food and a place to sleep and do the same thing forever. And die. "Their disillusionment with the world deepened as they contemplated the futility of societal pursuits. "I don't see the point," they concluded, their voice tinged with bitter resignation. "I don't understand how people are working. What are they working towards? More money? What's the point in getting a lot of money in a messed-up world? Why..."

The cyclical nature of life and its inherent monotony weighed heavily on Alex's mind. "Life really is a game," they reflected bitterly. "Everybody does the same: get a job, get a partner or something, get kids, die later on, and repeat. Honestly, it sounds stupid, it's pointless. Why would I waste my time when it could all just disappear in a second? It would all be for nothing. "Their thoughts shifted abruptly to a significant event—their 18th birthday. "I've reached the age of 18," Alex acknowledged, their voice subdued. "Finally, I've completed my PC, and my rifle is currently being checked. I had a good birthday; I saw my two friends. It felt nice, but I sensed a barrier separating us."

Despite the surface interactions, Alex continued to wrestle with profound loneliness and internal turmoil. "I've been lying in my bed for an hour, trying to sleep, but I've had hundreds of conversations with myself," they confessed, their vulnerability laid bare. "It won't stop."

Their mind wandered to darker thoughts of self-harm, contemplating actions that seemed to offer an escape from their overwhelming emotions. "I have some pills in my cabinet," Alex admitted with chilling detachment. "I keep thinking about overdosing, but they aren't that strong, so it won't work. So why even bother..."

Their isolation and longing for connection echoed in their words. "I feel so alone physically," they shared quietly. "I won't ever be able to express how I really feel."

As they stared at the pills, Alex's resolve wavered, caught between hopelessness and a desperate desire for relief. "I went to the cabinet and took the pills, 500mg each," they continued, their voice distant. "I guess I'll try 1500. Ew, they look nasty, big, and ugly. They feel awkward and smell..."

Their narrative shifted abruptly, leaving the outcome of their actions uncertain. "I'll try one. I'll do one more again. One more," they muttered to themselves, their thoughts fragmented and scattered. "I don't know what I should expect. I'll only get 4 hours of sleep anyway if I manage to sleep within an hour. I want to share this, but I feel it would be better if I honestly died first, then share it. Okay, stop thinking, just for a second. It's impossible; these endless thoughts of everything are everywhere. That's why there is always some sort of ambient sound in the background; otherwise, I'll get overloaded."

With a resigned sigh, Alex surrendered to the exhaustion of their own mind. "Goodnight," they whispered, their words a final admission of defeat for the day. As their eyes closed and darkness enveloped their room, Alex's thoughts continued to swirl in the quiet of their mind—a storm of uncertainty and longing that marked their solitary journey through life.