You're right.  They do distrust me, they've distrusted me since day one and as far as the actual disdain for me being in their home, it's obvious.  I've been so wrapped up in trying to get their approval that I couldn't see it.  How naive does that make me?  I thought that by moving in here when they needed me, I might actually, finally get their approval. I can't.  I won't.  No matter how much I try, and I've been trying for the better part of three decades now, I will never, ever get their approval.  So I fulfill my original obligation, because I am a man of my word and I'll give them six months of my life.  I'll use these six months to clean up and get a job, and I will try not to dwell on the fact that my deepest, most secret, life's ambition will never be accomplished.

I would never tell anyone, least of all myself, that everything that I have done in life up to this point has been to gain my parents; approval. It has.  The worst part of every failure in life has been how I was going to explain it to them.  I have never grown up.  It's ironic that it would take moving back home to make me realize that I've never grown up.  I will never get their approval.  They don't trust me.  They don't want me in their home. 

I will never get their approval.  They don't trust me.  They don't want me in their home.
I will never get their approval.  They don't trust me.  They don't want me in their home.
I will never get their approval.  They don't trust me.  They don't want me in their home.