Grown up... I think

Hi all, I wondered if anyone could give me some advice on dealing with family. I'm sorry this is kind of long...

I love my parents dearly. My mother is one of the strongest women I know, has always been a great role model and a close friend. My dad has always believed the best in me, has encouraged me to follow my dreams and has refused to let me give up on my potential. I know they're proud of me and want what's best for me, but I think sometimes we disagree on what actually is best for me.

Although I'm Canadian, I spend 8 months of the year in Scotland, where I've been at university for the last two years. That means I'm an ocean away from my family most of the time, and aside from the odd email, I only talk to my parents once a week for our Sunday afternoon phone calls. The calls are pretty standard -- am I eating enough, how are classes going, how are my friends, what's the weather like, etc. Now that I'm in counselling for depression they also asked when my last session was and whether I'm taking my meds. My first year away from home was scary because I'd never been away from my parents that long before, because I was trying to navigate in a new country and figure out a new school, but with time I've gained enough experience and independence to have a pretty comfortable life here. I miss my parents, of course, but a phone call once a week is plenty for all of us, since we're pretty used to the separation by now. It's been good for me; it's allowed me to grow a lot as a person and gain a lot of independence and perspective.

Except when I go home. When I go home, I might as well be twelve again. They very rarely nag me about anything while I'm away, but when I go home if I put anything off for any length of time they are after me to do it -- for example job hunting, like they don't trust me to get a summer job when I know how much I need one, when I worked my way through high school, when I have become used to paying for my own clothes, books, toiletries, gas and a good deal of my food. I never -- and this is a point of pride for me -- ask my parents for money except for things relating directly to school, like tuition and residence fees, which doesn't even include groceries and basic needs. I provide a good deal for myself. Because of that, yeah, I'm going to be on the job hunt this summer. However, I do not particularly feel like getting out 30 resumes two days after I get home from Scotland, right after I've finished exams, when I am jet lagged and really just want to spend a little time getting my feet back under me, not to mention seeing the friends back home I will not have seen all year. When I go out, they need to know where I am at all times, who I'm with, when I'm coming home -- and heaven forbid I'm late or can't tell them for sure what time I'll get back to the house! I have three younger siblings ranging in age from 16-7, and I spend a lot of time acting as chauffeur for them when I'm home, back and forth from appointments and school and soccer games (my mom works nights and my dad's away on business a lot so I do it to help out whenever I can) but if for some reason I have my own plans that clash with my parents' plans to have me chauffeur or babysit the siblings, then I am either told to change my plans, or I get the cold shoulder from my parents (my mom's incredibly good at guilt-tripping). I pick up a lot of chores when I'm home, like cleaning up the kitchen or family rooms, doing dishes, walking the dogs, washing my own bathroom and doing my own laundry, etc. I rarely complain, because I feel it's only fair that I pull my own weight when I'm at home. It's part of the values that my parents instilled in me, everybody does their share and does what they can to help.

The thing is ... when I'm away for the majority of the year, they survive without me. They must, right? So why is it that when I go home, I am no longer an adult? It's like I'm back in high school when my life revolved around my family's needs and wants and expectations, and I could not have a life or make any decisions of my own. It's smothering, it's stressful, and it's very triggering for my depression, which (in my parents' words) "is not an acceptable excuse to slack off/let others down". I should add that my depression has made it very difficult for me to get to class or get my work done, which I informed my parents about and they simply told me to do my best, and were actually very proud of how well I managed even though I was so emotionally and psychologically drained that I would spend days at a time in bed. So skipping class is apparently okay, but not tidying up the breakfast dishes is apparently unacceptable. They make me feel like I'm being lazy and ungrateful, which rationally I don't think I am, but when the depression hits, negative beliefs like that are hard to defend yourself from!

I don't know what to do. I'm going home for the summer in a couple of weeks, and I know this is all going to start up again. I've made HUGE strides with my depression, and I'm feeling a lot better, but I'm terrified that all the stress of being back home is going to wear on me and send me into a downward spiral. I won't even have my counsellor because she's part of student support in Scotland, as is my doctor here, and I don't really have a support network at home outside of my closest friends, who have their own things to deal with besides listening to me whine about my family. I know families are tough. I know parents are tough. I know going home from school can be difficult especially when you get used to coming and going whenever you want, eating whatever and whenever you want, not worrying about anyone other than yourself... I get that. But this is beyond just "tough", now. All the worry I've built up about going home for the summer has become overwhelming. I've tried talking to my parents about it before but they won't listen. They say I'm exaggerating or give me that famous line, "As long as you're under our roof, you live by our rules." But what if those rules don't apply to their twenty year-old daughter so much as the sixteen year-old that she used to be? What if they've somehow forgotten that I'm an adult, that I'm capable of taking care of myself and that I need to live my own life, one that doesn't and hasn't revolved solely around my family for years now?

Ah, I'm sorry this is so long... If anyone has any advice, I'd really appreciate it. I'm completely stuck on what to do.