I HATE PETER WHO COMPLAINS CONSTANTLY ABOUT MY LACK OF HELP

Dear Peter...

I hate that you complain constantly about my "lack of help". If you want help around the house, show me how to do things. Don't bitch that I don't do things when you've never showed me how to do half of them. Most mothers would teach their daughters how to look after a home. Incidentally, if you want help, you will have to ask for it, as I am not psychic. Do NOT expect that I will just do things, because it may surprise you to know that, due to your ridiculous pride, I have no idea what needs doing, because you won't tell me. You're not fucking Superwoman, you're just overly proud of yourself.

I hate your petty attempts to control me. I am not a child and will not be treated as such. I could get married at this age. Or join up, and go to Afghanistan. Both those options currently seem favourable to another year spent living with you. Let me take some fucking responsibility for myself before you claim that I am irresponsible. If you relaxed a little perhaps you would see that I can survive without your iron grip. I manage to get through the day without your assistance just fine.

The funniest thing is how little you know, yet you think you've got me sussed. Did you know, for example, that I am bisexual? That I'm not a virgin? That I smoke? That I've taken drugs? That I've gone to parties and stayed at boy's houses when you think I'm at a sleepover? You think I am still 14, for fuck's sake! I go out and get drunk because it is what people do at my age, and I enjoy it. It is legal now - you no longer have a say. I am a young adult, not an old child.

You don't seem to realise that the more you try to cling onto me now, the further I will RUN as soon as I possibly can. I tell you, the minute I go to Uni, that is it. No more family holidays for me, no more 'trips out', no more living with you. I'll find somewhere to go during the holidays, a trip or a work placement or something. You behave like a manipulative, spoilt brat when it comes to me spending time with you. Have you never considered that the reason I don't go out places with you is not because I'm too lazy... I just don't like you that much. The only way to save this is to fucking relax now, let me be who I am and then we can be friends when I've left home. It won't work any other way, especially not with you on this 18-year power trip. And by the way, I manage to get on fine with everyone when you're not there. My nan, my brother. THE ONLY PROBLEM IS YOU.

It's mainly thanks to you that I cut myself. I'm supposed to be young and sexy. Not fucking scarred to pieces. It makes me sick to my stomach that not only did you not even notice how depressed I was, and how depressed I am now, but you didn't even notice that I was self-injuring until you took away my phone for some petty reason. And read all my texts. WHAT KIND OF PARENT SCREAMS AT THEIR CHILD FOR BEING DEPRESSED? I have sat in front of the medicine cabinet literally weighing up whether to kill myself or not, and you claim that it is part of some teenage fad? When will you realise that this is not me being 'emo' and take it seriously? I had a dream once, that I killed myself and you laughed and said it was just a fad.

I have no trust for you at all. You secretly went through my room, you read my texts, you made me feel like I was living under surveillance and you still do. I HATE it when you check up on me, when you take my friends' phone numbers when I go out, when you act as though you have the right to do it just because "you're the adult". And here's a hint. You may be able to buy me things, but you can't buy my trust back. That is what would make me like you - not you buying me stuff. I will NEVER trust you again.

Just fuck off and leave me alone.