And so, Alex's story continued, a narrative of resilience and despair woven together in the fabric of their existence, seeking meaning amidst the chaos and solitude of their own thoughts.
Alex's inner turmoil continued to gnaw at them, leaving a trail of fragmented thoughts and unspoken pain in its wake. The weight of their past and present converged in a tumultuous storm of emotions, each moment etched with a haunting sense of loneliness and confusion. "I can't remember clearly how my childhood was," Alex confessed quietly to themselves, their voice a mere whisper against the backdrop of their restless mind. "But I can clearly remember the bad stuff, and that's not how I want it to be seen."
Their thoughts wandered through the labyrinth of memories, grappling with the specters of their past. "Man, I don't know," they murmured, their voice tinged with a mix of frustration and longing. "I haven't talked to anyone about it, and I don't know how to"
The tumultuous journey of their life weighed heavily on their soul. "My life took such a change…" Alex trailed off, their thoughts drifting back to a pivotal moment. "Everything was just fantastic until I was 7. Life just hit a switch, and I would sometimes break down and cry and get angry, and I said out loud I want to kill myself, which had my mom tripping, and that switch became locked when I turned 9."Reflecting on their early years, Alex found solace in the memories before the darkness descended. "Everything before I was 9. Everything was going at a nice pace and peaceful," they reminisced, their voice carrying a wistful tone.
The solitude they felt in recent years loomed large in their mind. "Also, loneliness has been hitting me for the past 3 years," Alex admitted, their vulnerability laid bare. "And I don't put effort into knowing new people. I've had made hundreds of deep relations that just fade away like it never happened."The ache of isolation and the longing for genuine connection were palpable in their words. "I want to cry right now; I mean it," they confessed, their voice trembling with raw emotion. "I can't remember how it feels to just burst out. I really want someone to talk to. I thought I could get some other view of things."
As the days blurred into one another, Alex's struggle manifested in unexpected ways. "Man, I woke up and felt like shit today," they recounted, their voice filled with weariness. "I had a 10-second argument about why I didn't want to go to college/university. I had only 5 minutes to get ready, and my head was spinning; it felt like a jet in my head with a broken left wing."
Their journey through the day was marked by an internal battle against overwhelming emotions. "Then I got in the car, and I was just reading my manga, and tears came down out of nowhere," Alex continued, their voice betraying the strain they felt. "But I kept on reading."Navigating through the haze of their emotions, Alex found themselves grappling with fluctuating moods and sensations. "My mood has been all over the place lately," they acknowledged, their voice reflecting a sense of resignation. "The first day of school, I talked to everyone, even though I didn't know them, and we just played card games and stuff. The second day, I rarely speak, and it's been like that since."
The classroom offered little respite from their internal turmoil. "I got into the class, and we didn't really have anything to do," Alex recounted, their thoughts wandering through the mundane details of their day. "I couldn't hear anything, so I just sat there and read for hours, trying to eat the pain of my headache and avoided as much talk as I could."
Their physical ailments mirrored the emotional burden they carried. "Every time I talk and my ear acts up, it hurts even more, or not even hurt more like my head starts
throbbing, like it's telling me to stop," they confessed, their words laced with a sense of desperation.Despite their efforts to conceal their struggles, their teacher's concern pierced through their defenses. "After 4 hours, my teacher asked me if I wasn't feeling good," Alex recalled, their voice subdued. "And I simply said, 'Yeah,' and lied about my ear, saying I just couldn't hear anything from it and it hurt."
Their retreat from school offered a brief respite from the physical and emotional pain. "So I was allowed to leave, and when I left the school, the pain in my head subsided," they recounted, their relief palpable even in their retelling.
Faced with the overwhelming complexity of their emotions, Alex sought a way to make sense of their tumultuous inner world. "I don't know how to explain all this," they admitted quietly, their voice a fragile thread holding together the fragments of their thoughts. "But I'll just keep a diary so I can look back and notice any differences."
The diary became a lifeline—a space where Alex poured out their unfiltered thoughts and emotions, seeking solace in the act of documenting their journey. "I always feel lonely, and I don't know how to get rid of the feeling or how to cope with it," they confessed, their vulnerability laid bare. "I don't even know what I'm seeking. Honestly, I'm so confused with myself. This was supposed to be my diary. "Their inner turmoil spilled onto the pages of their diary, a testament to the battles fought silently within. "14yrs)(I'm almost repeating the same 2year loop).. death notes," they wrote, their words a stark reminder of the darkness that loomed at the edges of their consciousness.
In moments of respite, Alex found themselves grappling with existential questions that seemed to defy easy answers. "After keeping myself outside the world it feels like there is no one and nothing to feel," they wrote, their thoughts meandering through the vast expanse of their mind. "It feels kinda good and sad at the same time.. Now I just want to leave and never come back start over."
The desire for a fresh start underscored their yearning for relief from the relentless turmoil of their thoughts. "I keep crying before I go sleep or when I wake up am thinking way too much," they admitted, their words a poignant reflection of their internal struggle. "I get messed up and don't know what to do with myself."The dichotomy of their emotions—yearning for escape yet tethered to the uncertainty of their own existence—was a constant theme in their writings. "If I had a choice to just end my life and could see how my friends will actually see that I'm not just some sort of tool," they pondered aloud, their voice tinged with bitterness. "I don't feel like I want to live anymore. I got what I wanted.."
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Their skepticism towards relationships and societal expectations echoed in their thoughts. "I always hear someone say they like me and love me is just BULL FU###iNG SHIT!!!" they exclaimed, their frustration boiling over onto the pages of their diary. "I've been trying it once they say that they like me and shit but it's just a lie... LIFE IS A LIE... and full OF SHIT.."Despite their disillusionment, moments of vulnerability surfaced in their writings, revealing a longing for connection amidst the chaos of their thoughts. "There we go, this is what I do when I'm alone crying or writing and being bored… SHIT," they confessed, their words a raw admission of their inner turmoil.
The struggle to reconcile their emotions with their desire for authenticity and connection was a central theme in Alex's diary entries. "They find out.." they wrote cryptically, leaving the reader to ponder the implications of their words.
In moments of reflection, Alex sought to articulate the emptiness that often enveloped them. "So as u Saw before i told you that I make another one sometimes I feel empty," they admitted quietly, their voice barely audible in the stillness of their room. "Now u maybe thinking what do I mean by empty..."Their introspection led them to describe a profound sense of detachment from the world around them. "I feel that am all alone and that am not there mood," they continued, their thoughts drifting into a stream of consciousness. "I am sitting in a bus most of the time am in my own World in school when am at The Range i like shooting with guns and rifles because you just cock the bolt back and u let it go a bullet with minds flying away.."
Their musings revealed a complex inner landscape—a blend of longing, detachment, and a yearning for meaning in a world that often felt indifferent. "Well, u can tell about me i have friends but most of the time i am just by myself," they confessed, their words a hesitant admission of their solitary existence. "Am not used to have friends i had two dudes a nice one but the other me and him was stealing all the time am not bragging that was how i was when i was 10 years old.."
Their aspirations and uncertainties about the future emerged in fragments, scattered across the pages of their diary. "I used to Thinking alot about my life i wanna join the military but after i dunno thats when suicide comes in my mind… 'If everyone was born to live, there are some who were not born to live life; they were born to just be born,'" they wrote, their words a poignant reflection of their existential musings. Their thoughts drifted towards a profound realization of their place in the world. "'Some have a great life or childhood; some were born to be happy, some were born not to be happy all the time, and some were also born to escape life, be scared of the future, and want to stop everything,'" they mused, their voice tinged with resignation. "'My point is that maybe I was not born to enjoy life
Part 6: Alex's narrative continued to unfold with raw intensity, each chapter revealing deeper layers of their tumultuous life journey. From childhood upheavals to teenage rebellion, their story was a mosaic of pain, resilience, and a relentless quest for identity and purpose.
"Fuck writing about some stupid ass pictures. Imma spit some life facts on your asses," Alex's voice echoed in the stark honesty of their reflections. They delved into the earliest memories of their childhood, a time when innocence collided with chaos.
"I was born on 3rd December 2004 in Nerum," Alex began, their words tumbling out in a rush. "Grew up with my mom, her dad, her mom, her sister, and my brother, all scrambled up in one place. We didn't have much room."Their early years were marked by a mischievous spirit and a knack for trouble. "I remember going to kindergarten around the age of 5," they recounted, a hint of nostalgia coloring their voice. "My mom worked there, and I was a really destructive kid. I could mess up everything. You bought a new PC? I'd mess it up. Yeah, I was also very reckless."
The memories of their youthful escapades painted a picture of a spirited yet troubled child. "I took a toy tractor once and thought it would be fun riding down the stairs with it," Alex recalled, a hint of amusement in their voice. "Didn't break anything, which was weird, but yeah, I was stupid. But it was fun."
Their journey took a turn when they moved to Kettinge, a small village where new friendships bloomed amidst the backdrop of a shifting family dynamic. "That's where I met a good friend, he was my neighbor at the time," Alex reminisced, their tone softer now, tinged with the warmth of nostalgia. "We hung out pretty much every day."Entering school marked a turbulent period for Alex. "I started school for the first time, and it was shitty," they admitted bluntly. "I was in 1st grade, got kicked out at 2nd grade. I don't remember why."Their family's constant movement mirrored the instability of their early years. "Then we moved from my mom's parents, and things went kinda rough for us," Alex continued, their voice carrying a weight of uncertainty. "We moved to many places in less than a year until we settled in Nykøbing when I was around 7, I think. I just had a lot of mental problems and anger issues."
The struggles they faced manifested in outbursts and conflicts, both internal and external.
"I used to get into fights with other kids and teachers, don't know why I did it then and still don't know," they reflected, their voice tinged with a mix of remorse and confusion. "I think I was just a really unstable bitch at the time. I was also very depressed."
Their mother's persistent efforts to seek help for them underscored the severity of their struggles. "I remember my mom always trying to get a diagnosis for me, which I think I had now when I think about it," they admitted, their voice trailing off. "I probably had, but fuck it."
At the age of 9, their life took a drastic turn with a move to a foster home, a decision that uprooted them from their family. "I remember these two females who came and talked to me," Alex recalled bitterly. "They said I'd live somewhere else for some months so I could get help and shit, but I ended up living there for 4 years. So I guess they lied. Fuck them."The transition to the foster home marked a stark departure from everything they knew. "My first day in a foster home, it was weird being alone and all these rules and new people," Alex described, their voice tinged with a sense of alienation. "Some of the people who worked there were assholes. I remember the second day, this guy took my pencils because he was just an asshole."
Despite the challenges, Alex found solace in their creative pursuits. "I used to draw a lot, so I spent most of my days drawing and building with Lego," they recalled, a hint of fondness coloring their memories. "There were also other kids, mostly girls. My first year there was kinda boring."Their boredom soon gave way to rebellion and escapades with newfound friends. "When I was 10, I started running away with a friend from the foster home," Alex confessed, their voice tinged with a mix of defiance and nostalgia. "We ran away a lot and did fucked up things. I remember once we went on the other building's roof, which was under construction. We found these air guns that shoot nails. We took the guns and shot after them."
Their time at the foster home was marked by a tumultuous blend of defiance and camaraderie. "I got in fights constantly with the workers and also kids," they continued, their memories punctuated by moments of rebellion. "Two years skipped by."