I can remember every bedroom I ever lived in. It’s where I spent most of my life. Right from age 7 when we moved and I got my first bedroom.I attended dinners and chat with my family as I left the house or come home, but with the exceptions of things like game night, pretty much spent all my time alone in my room. We lived driving distance from friends so I had occasional overnight visitors from my school. I’d still stay in my room, bit for a while I wasn’t alone.
That trend continues to this day although some of my bedrooms were in other people’s homes. I still stayed quiet behind closed doors for much of my off work time.I emerge now and then just to realize how awkward I can be socially when I’m outside on the real world. I don’t have much experience.Once my main group of friends grew up and moved on, I remained in my bedroom alone
The internet was my connection to the world, and it’s a poor substitute for friends and interaction. I just watched the world but I never learned how to take care of myself. I didn’t know how to adult. I still don’t.For most of my life, living in a bedroom in somebody else’s life worked out. I paid aren’t and closed the door and nothing much changed. I could be social on weekends or special days but mostly it was me, alone in a bedroom.When I got sick, or needed family type advice, the other people in the home would help. I didn’t make many decisions. I just went with the flow, adapted to changes and all seemed fine.
As I aged, finding suitable bedrooms became harder. At age 50, I found myself alone for the first time. I needed to find my own apartment with a new bedroom, bit I had to make decisions. I had to actually do things. It was hard. I didn’t do very well.Ignoring everything negative worked when I was living in other people’s lives. Anything life threw at us was filtered by the adults who tackled the obstacles before I needed to feel any concern.
I made some poor decisions post 50, bit I did accomplish some major tasks. I got a doctor, a social worker and eventually a phyuciatrist. Life threw the world a few curve balls with a pandemic bit my decline started just before. I lost $600 off my income and couldn’t make rent.Miraculously anew bedroom was offered me. I stayed on it quiet, bit my drug habit got me evicted and before being honest I found the bedroom I now live in.i can go months without leaving the house now. It’s gotten bad and I accept and adapt.If you saw my bedroom, and the way I live now, you’d send me off for evaluation, but I can’t do it. I feel trapped in my befroommore than ever.
Luckily,it feels like home.I almostbeliwve this is an acceptable life. I won’t change but I try to figure out ways to make the universe choose for me.I never shared much of my life. I’m just the guy in his bedroom. Same as it’s always been.