Hi there. I'm Miranda. Now I know I might be a little young to tell a story about myself, but honey, when you live like me, you're going to have some stories to tell.
Let's start from the beginning, shall we? My life didn't really get interesting until I was two. My parents got a divorce. I'm a massive daddy's girl, so my mom had to carry me over her shoulder to get me to leave. I didn't want to leave my dad's side, and I still don't. When she carried me out, I was kicking and screaming like I was on my death bed, but when you're two and you're leaving the best thing you have, you"ll think that. Some of you may be like, oh it's just a little break up. Not when you're two and that's all you've ever known. Then you're leaving behind your life.
I've been living with my mom since I was two. I'm not a big fan of it. Like I said, I'm a daddy's girl. I've been to four different schools, and have lived in so many different houses I can't even count them all.
I currently live in Fort Recovery, Ohio, which is a little town in the middle of nowhere west Ohio. I hate it, I'm not going to lie. I've been here for the past ten years. I'm currently fifteen, so that means I've been here since I was five. I've had many friends, but hardly any can I actually trust. Let's just say, life hasn't been very kind to me. Let me tell you more about my past.
When I was about six, my mom got remarried to my step dad. He has two boys, and my mom has my brother, my sister, and me, which has added up to me having three brothers and one sister. My dad got remarried when I was arond six or seven. No big deal. Well my dad and my step mom ended up having two little cute boys, giving me five brothers and one sister.
My dad was in the Navy, and I come from a long family line of military people. In 2007, my dad was sent to Iraq. He was involved in Opperation Iraqi Freedom. Not something you're excited about when you're in the second grade and could really use a father. He was gone for nine months. He was sent out January 3, 2007 and didn't return until November 12, 2007. I missed my dad. I cried almost every day for those entire nine months. I still have the pet rock and shirt he got me from when he was in California for training. My dad told me stories and continues to tell me stories about his time over there. There is too many to tell you, and I can tell you, some of them are pretty funny, but others make you want to cry and thank the Lord that your dad survived war. My dad goes through a lot, and it's pretty sad, and I still live him no matter what.
It was when I was in the second grade that I found out I have depression. I didn't know what it was until I was in the seventh grade though. For almost my entire life, I've been battling myself. There are times where you see me and you'll be like "oh man, she's so beautiful and smart, and funny and happy" and there will be moments when you'll see me and be like "What happened to her? Why is she like that? She must have something wrong in her head, stay away." Harsh, but true.
Let's just say that isn't the half of it, and if you want to read more, like my story, tell me, and I'll write more. I don't want to bore you with my wierd life.
