As some of you know, my name is Alexzandra or Alex. This chapter is going to be about my changes over the years and how I overcame hard obstacles in my life.
My journey started where I grew up in for most of my life, South Africa. South Africa (in my opionion) might've been the hardest place for me too live in so far. The summers were so hot you could cook eggs on the street, the schools were run like prisons, and the drugs were high on the market.
When I was five years old, I started to notice something strange happening in my house. Specifically with my parents. I would always see them sneak down-stairs and go into the attic. At first, this wasn't a big deal 'cause I always went to the attic to play with my toys but, with them it seemed more rushed and frequent. So one day I decided to investigate. One night after my parents tucked me into bed and said goodnight, I threw myself out of bed and headed downstairs. I crept down the stairs quickly but quietly stopping every few seconds to listen for any nosises. After my feet touched the bottom step, I turned the corner and found the basement light on. I tiptoed closer to the door of the basement and gently opened it. There I found my mom and dad sitting in my princess chairs I used for my dolls, holding needles and rubber bands around there arms.
(Remember I was five so I didn't really know what was really going on at the time)
Fast forward time two years later. I'm in foster care. My parents were taken away from me by CPS. I didn't know why. All I knew was I didn't like my foster home and I hated everyone in it. Everyday I would wake up and hate the world for taking my parents away. They didn't do anything wrong so why did those mean people take them away from me? There were so many questions I couldn't answer by myself. In the foster home, I never let anyone in my personal bubble. When anyone tried to talk to me I would shut them out. All I would do is sit by the windowsill of my shared bedroom with six other people and think of my family. For five years I stayed in that foster home. That hell hole.
(I was thirteen when I found out that my parents were doing heroin)
I was adopted by my new foster mom and dad. When they first took me home I was a brat. I wouldn't do anything they said, I'd purposely break the rules just to piss them off, and I would even throw things at the wall just to see them shatter. Yep, I was a problem child. For good reason though. The thought of someone replacing my parents was unbearably devastating. Too save time and a paragraph, I grew too love my foster parents as much as my real parents.
HighschooI and Middle school. Hated both.
( I was homeschooled for elementary)
It's not the actually work that bugged me (I was/am a nerd), it was the people. Now, I know it seems a little normal for a girl my age at the time to be a little shy but, remember I grew up in South Africa. All of my classmates wanted to be gangsters and rappers in the next generation. Startig fights for no reason or for "fun" and using slang/curse words. All of that caused a major migrain. I thought it was stupid. For awhile I ignored it but somehow it came crashing back in u direction. By the end of middle school, I started to get bullied. One day, a girl tried to make me mad by talking about my parents and calling me a crack baby. I lashed out at her and threw a book in her face. A hardback textbook. Victory was only momentarily as the rest of her crew brought her back up on her free and helped her beat the absolute crap outta me. Walked home with a spilt lip and a nasty scar above my eyebrow.
Highschool was about the same amount of crap I had to deal with. Again my grades in high school were outstanding, it was the people that erked me. In all, I got in five fights all of them ending badly for me. My opponent always needed to bring some sort of back up. (BTW not all of the people I've fought were girls) Now, I know some people would ask the question of "Why didn't you call for help? Or "Why did you fight them alon?". Well number one I didn't have any friends remember, I'm a loner. Number two, fighting my own fights was a rule I set for myself. If I broke that rule, I would beat myself up emotional about it.
After I graduated high school my foster parents decided that I moved. Where you ask? To the US. They said it would be more save if I stayed there. I asked them where they were going to stay and all they did was just smile. Cheesy right? I know ;-;. After I flew too the US I began too make myself a bucket list.
1.Make friends ✔
2.Go to the beach ❌ (I'm working on it ;-;)
3.Have a decent relationship (Crushes don't count apparently)❌
4.See my real parents again/ foster parents⭕(Im going back to South Africa in December)
I think that's all for now. Until next time my friends and fellow strangers, keep on WHEEZING!
P.S if you have IMVU you can add me at priclessalexcandy ^~^
