About Me: 

Megan Lorraine Mariani c: I’m fourteen. Born on June 24th. I have one Friend who is a girl. Vanessa (Vanessasfantasy) The rest are all guy friends. I will be a stuck up bitch if you criticize me or are rude on my page. My life story is at the bottom of my page. Anyway. I have Hyperhidrosis which is excessive sweating. I will not get botox injections to treat it. It doesn’t get too bad here in new york so unless it’s in the 90’s you won’t see me sweating THAT BAD (like if you watched the true life about embarrassing conditions. She lives in Florida, which makes it 10x worse.) That’s really it. Okay? Any other questions… Ask me c: OR GOT TO MY FAQ PAGE c:

My Story:

Well, I’m Puerto Rican, Irish and Dutch. Call me a Cracker-Rican, I guess. Well, this is my story. It’s a long one; you don’t have to read it. But if you happen to. Give me a message, I have nothing better to do than answer your questions & respond to your comments.

First off, I was born in the city of Rochester, NY. I’ve lived all over that city. East side, not too bad. West side, it has seen better days. Well, I was born into what seemed like the perfect family. I had a ‘father’, mother, 2 sisters (Nina-‘dad’s’ side. Cristy- Mom’s side) and a brother.(Justin) Little did I know, given my age, about my ‘father’s’ drug issue, my sister’s emotional issues, my other sister’s need to express herself and my brother’s future of becoming a registered sex offender.

My mom couldn’t take my ‘father’s’ drug habit. We packed on December 12, 2001. Dead silence in the middle of the night. ‘Dad’ was out at a bar. Typical. And it was just Cristy, Justin, my mom, and myself. I was only 4 years of age at the time. But I’ve been told this story a million times. We packed and had to go to my Grandmother’s house on the east side, having no where else to go. I would start Kindergarten in September. My mom didn’t want me going to a school in the city. We had to do something. So, we moved to hick town. Ontario, New York. But, when my father found us, around Christmas he took all the presents from the tree and sold them. Plus, he took the money my mom had saved up. About $1,100. We had to move out of there also and move to a different part of hick town. Things were finally looking up… Or so we thought.

When I was 6 years old, it was a game to me. When I was 8. It opened too many doors to future emotional issues. I had no clue at the time. But, my brother had been sexually abusing me. Me, given my age, thought it was merely a game. When I was 8 years old, he was caught. He spent 6 months in the Wayne county Jail. Then was out on parole. I’m still not legally allowed to see him. Either way, I love my brother no matter what.

Now, last year. I had an insane cutting problem. Before you can say anything about that. You have to know what it feels like to feel so low that you can’t feel happiness. That may sound like, stupid. But its true. I was dating this kid… For 6 months. I saw him every single day. Each day I fell in love. You may say I wasn’t in love but whatever. It was young love. One day, 3 days after Valentines day, the 17th. We were watching TV in my room. All of a sudden he got up. Walked out of my room, walked out of my house. And he still hasn’t talked to me to this day. At that very time, I was going through family court. So i could see my family again. But that didn’t work. My family was falling apart. And so was I. No thanks to verbal abuse in school. Thats the time where I started cutting. I haven’t cut since the summer of 2010. Why, you ask? Truth is, Mayday Parade. They opened doors to music i’ve never heard before them. Now, looking back, I see it as I lived in a bubble, keeping me inside, and good music outside. They opened doors to bands I didn’t know were musically possible.

Ever since then, my story has been dull. And when something big happens, I’ll be sure to tell you guys. Don’t forget to ask questions and/or leave comments in my messages.

xoxo

-Megan<3

Addition: 4/17/11

Recently, my ‘father’ has attempted to add me on facebook. Seeing as how he couldn’t even spell his own last name right, I declined his invite. And will go on living my life as the world unravels. Nothing in my past will stop me. 

Addition 7/3/11

It’s been FOUR months since I cut last and I feel fantastic. I have surrounded myself with people to talk to and of course, tumblr helped c:I am more confident in the way I look. But, not enough to say I’m ‘pretty’. But to all of you that helped me, I thank you and have a good summer guys!! 

Addition 8/5/11

When I think, I think of awful things. Whether it’s awful to me. Or awful things I’d like to do to people. I don’t face my sadness. I cover it with insults and what-not. I knew that already. But I didn’t realize how bad it actually was. This morning, I saw 2 little girls and I thought “I’d love to put them in a crate and set them out to sea for just looking obnoxious. Then, sharks would tear them apart. Blood gushing everywhere.” My pain, I’m taking care of it by thinking of things to make myself feel better. I just need to go somewhere. Somewhere far. I’m trapped here. I am honestly trapped. I don’t leave the house. I don’t even leave this tiny little town. Ever. Unless I’m out of something. But that’s just the neighboring town. I think alone at home. There’s never anything to do here or anyone to hang out with. Plus, here there’s only a few people who actually like talking to me. When we get back to school, everyone’s going to be talking about where they went, what interesting things they saw. Then, I’m going to be like “I did nothing.” I can’t go anywhere. I’m poor as shit. I live in a shitty trailer park with assholes around every corner. I can’t fucking take this much longer. Being cooped up all day is driving me into a black hole. I can’t go down that path again. Everyday is a battle with my mom, too. She comes home from work and either 1.) Complains cause I didn’t to what was asked of me. 2.) Complains about me looking depressed. 3.) Complains that I did what I was supposed to do, but didn’t do anything more. I can’t ever win. She keeps saying “Things will get better.” But they won’t. They never have. No matter how many times she tells herself. We’ll never get out of this place. My room is too small, also. The entire room is my bed. and a dresser and a closet. You can’t walk in it because there’s a bed. My bathroom doesn’t work, so I have to use my mom’s. You have no privacy at all. Things are always breaking. There isn’t anything to eat. Literally. The pantry and fridge is almost completely empty. I don’t even remember a time where we didn’t struggle with money. It’s not like ” I don’t have money to pay this month’s rent” It’s more like ” I don’t have the money to pay the past three rent bills. Or the insurance.” When I see people on here that dress like I would love to dress, it kills me a little more. It also breaks my heart to see my mom’s hopes get let down constantly. I know it isn’t her fault completely. And she didn’t mean for it to be like this. I can’t be the person I’d like to be. 

Addition: 9/2/11

It has been brought to my attention that I’m pathetic for using the internet as much as I do. And that I should go get some friends… I’d like to do that. But everyone thinks about me as a whore or a skank. When I’m not one. I don’t go in public often. In fear of people wanting to hurt me. I’m so, so scared to go into high school. I don’t know how to stand up for myself because I know I’m not a good person and that I have many problems. I’m going into a high school where everyone thinks bad of me and will do something about it. Because of Ryan, too. He’s told everyone lies about what I apparently did with him. The only thing I did was kiss him. I’ve become so paranoid, too. I dream of the most horrid things. All leading to suicide. I thought I was going to be okay a month ago but now, I’m just so fed up with being threatened and harassed all day every day and only having one true friend bothers me. I don’t even know what to do anymore. I’d like to stop having nightmares about nobody talking to me and my whole day being silent, I’d love to stop being called a whore.