I do love my parents. I am glad they have let me live here for my poor years and all. I mean, I am an adult. I hate being in there hair. I have managed to live far away from them in college and moving back home was supposed to be temporary and it hasn't been easy for either of us. Maybe that's why I let it get this bad. My parents moved out of my childhood home while I was still at college. My bedroom was upstairs. Actually, all the bedrooms were upstairs, and my mom would have a heart-attack whenever I visited and had to climb the stairs. So, that prompted my mom to find a house with a room and a full bathroom downstairs. So, everything became MY fault. They couldn't just get ANY house, which made it hard. And everyone was upset that we were leaving the old hood. This house was all for me -- even though it had no ramp for me to get out and was barely accessible. It's a long story, but my parents finally sold their house and started building a new one, complete with everything I would need downstairs...or so they thought. I asked for wider doors.. .I even got in a knock-down, yelling fight with my dad about needing an inch or so more hallway space. My room is so small I can't turn my wheelchair around in it. I told my mom how grab bars would be helpful in the bathroom. Things didn't work out with that and my mom just kept complaining about ruining her precious bathroom and I didn't want to start a fight where I was made out to be the idiot (Imagine their own disabled daughter knowing what would help her! Yep, my parents have a major humility problem....) and I still could make the bathroom work and I thought this crap would only last a short time, so I let it go and if I do try to bring it up again, I just get told to move into a home, which isn't helpful. I don't really need supervision. I need equipment! A home would make me prematurely more dependent. And believe me, it ain't working now...sometimes I wish someone would just stop and listen to me!