You HAVE to stop talking about me. If you would stop trying to wreck my life, I wouldn't keep ringing you — it's as simple as that. I can't understand you. Most parents are happy to see their children succeed, but you seem set to ruin my life by telling people I have this problem or that problem. (Recently, people have been making all sorts of comments suggesting that I am lazy, that I get things back-to-front, that I get confused easily, etc.) I ring you because I am angry, not because I like you or want to hear from you. (You never have anything to say anyway.) I don't even like you. The only reason I did well as a child was because I cut myself off from you. Unfortunately, in 1991 I started to enter the adult, working world and I turned to you for advice, which was a huge mistake. You have always been reluctant to give me advice, and the advice you have given me has not always been good. Furthermore, you have always thought poorly of me, and have never given me support when I have needed it. My big problem is with YOU, not with other people. You are both too narrow-minded, too easily agitated, and too easily frightened. I am thoroughly sick of you both. I can't ring you to tell you anything because of that stupid record you are keeping. I wish you were different! Why are you like this? Why did you have to tell people that I sometimes ring you? And why did you say in your letters that I can ring you anytime, and why did you send the phonecard, and why does Dad jump to answer the phone whenever I ring? I hate you both and I wish you would get off my back. Third letter...