I had a beautiful diary book with green paper, when I was at elementary school. I didn't know how to write one, but everyone in class had one, so I started writing too. It only consisted of what I had for homework and basically how I performed in class. I guess I was already preset to think that it was the only part of me worth noting.
I put it in the trash half year ago when I found it. It sounded so artificial and empty.
My third diary was rather a compilation of e-mails between me and my then boyfriend whom NM disapproved of. She found it, read it, screamed at me for a complete day and forced me to dump him. I didn't do so, but kept our relationship secret for four years. And then came out to them four years later, that we were still together. It resulted in hell breaking lose and consequences that I will write about later.
My second diary, I have found two weeks ago, in the week-end house. In the topmost drawer of NM's wardrobe. I know I didn't put it there. So I know that by now, she knows its content by heart. And she will do everything she can to use it against me.
I have read a few pages of it. I was between 16-18 years old, smart enough not to write anything about my parents. But all the other things that were in it... I didn't even remember how desperately sad and lonely I was all the time. It was unbearable even to only read through the pages. I didn't know how to connect with anyone, I didn't know how befriend anyone, the ones I thought were my friends constantly hurt me. The ones who didn't, hated visiting me (because of NM). If I wanted to see them, I was grounded. If I wanted to do anything that didn't involve NM, I was locked up. My only friend was DP. NM labeled it as sick and disgusting. I was so unhappy and vulnerable, you could almost feel the pain just by touching the written words. I am actually surprised why I didn't manage to kill myself in the end.
I have burnt it page by page.
I will never go through that again.