*sighs*
*reads all the current answers*

I can say I've never read anyone else's diary - I once checked my boyfriend's emails, but I was 14 and he wasn't actually doing anything. I actually make a point of not looking at people's phones when they're ringing or when they have a text and I pass them the aforementioned phone, generally adhering to strict "I wouldn't want it done to me".

This stems from a slightly troubled homelife (as we all have, surely). But being a delicate intellectual flower *hur hur* I kept a diary from the age of 10. I had books and books of mostly twaddle. They only started to get interesting when I tried to off myself, moved into some pretty supreme bullying-based angst and got engaged, all fairly typical 15 year old girl stuff.

However, my loving mother decided to have a good snoop. I thought something was amiss when she dragged me into the house by my tie after I got back from school and my afternoon didn't get any better after that!

Suffice to say I was fairly put-upon after that, my mobile was smashed with a hammer accompanied with banshee like screaming, I was put on what are now known to be very dangerous anti-depressants to put an adolescent on and ended up running away from home two weeks after my sixteenth birthday.

I managed to disappear off the planet for nearly three years before someone let slip to my mother where I was. Damnit. However, the relationship between her and I is irreparably damaged and I'll never forgive her as long as I live for denying me the chance of a "normal" life, :).

Morale of the story...

Write everything anonymously on a website!!!!

Apologies for length, but there were six bookfuls :). Still got them at my ex fiancé's, I'd love to read it all again.
( The Baroness The Harlot Pimpernel, Fri 2 Feb 2007, 13:51, Reply)