I can kind of relate to that I suppose.
As a young child, my parents split up. That was only the beginning, as it were.
When I first went to school, I hated it, I just wanted to go home, but eventually I adjusted and made friends. Some of them were alright, others less so, but it wasn't until my later childhood/early teen years that things really started to take a turn for the worst. Granted, I was acquainted early on with death. I rather liked this Math teacher who taught kids with "Special needs" (I always hated doing the formulas). She was a really awesome teacher. One day her husband goes insane and shoots her in the head, then himself. At the time I wasn't too affected by it, at least, I didn't really think so, after all people I've known had died before then. I didn't really dwell on it until later.
In my last couple grade school years, I had this group of friends, we were a very violent bunch, I was the de-facto leader of this group. Everyone in this group respected me, and did my bidding. I ruled with an iron fist, through force of arms. I was always thinking about killing people, not because I wanted to be alone and get rid of them, but because it just seemed like something that would be fun I guess. After all, fighting was fun, surely killing would be even better!
Well, things really started to change during my the end of my first year of high school. A lot of close family members started dying from random things, a kid I knew at school (and didn't really like, granted) died in a freak accident, my awesome music teacher got hit by a car. I didn't really think death was so awesome then. My friends still did, however, and because of family issues (My Mother had a lot of asshole boyfriends over the years, who did both verbally abuse her, as well as my brother and I, and hit us) I was already going through a tough time with my Mother just splitting from her most recent boyfriend. I began to really start thinking about things, dwelling on things, like the matter of existence, life, the point of all of it. My "friends" of course did not understand, it wasn't long before a coupe was staged and I just altogether withdrew, I quit school and spent two years at home in seclusion for the most part, only leaving for family things or the cottage, and only really seeing family. I fought my demons, and fought hard. I won't go into much detail on that, as there were stranger things going on, though whether they were just insane paranoid delusion or not I cannot say, but two years after that I felt I had recovered enough to attempt living again, so I went back to school, and completed it.
Now, well, I just broke up with my girlfriend last week, but other than that I'm doing
just fine.