I have nothing fundamentally wrong with the way I live. It’s other people who keep insisting I’m wasting my life away. I am at my happiest when I have nothing on and am free from schedules or demands. Appointments, catching up with family and friends, grocery shopping, paperwork, even putting out the washing… everything eats into my energy and effort. I only need to glance at some people’s commitments and life choices to feel quietly content with my lot in life. People seem to get themselves into so much trouble because of the ways they live and the things they chase. I know clearly the things I don’t want in life, and I am very content with that knowledge. Give me a steady internet connection and lock me in a room, and I’d survive quite well. I am at my happiest in my own company.
No debt, no mortgage, no wife, no children, no latest phones, no new cars, no credit cards, no socialising (except with the small handful of people that I have). My idea of a good time is to hibernate in my room writing blogs, watching YouTube and Netflix, with the curtains closed and the heater set to a silly temperature, enjoying the simple comforts with no commitments. The worst news I could receive is that my partner is pregnant — the thought of becoming a father terrifies me, and a romantic relationship plays no part in my agenda. This is by design. I know I’m selfish, but I don’t want to give my time away to most people. So, is this wasting my life away? Surely, if I’m genuinely content with my lifestyle, then living like this isn’t throwing my life away. Whatever makes me happy — locking myself away and devoting myself to doing very little — there should be nothing wrong with that.
People maybe feel sorry for me, assuming my life is lonely and that I’m missing out on the essential experiences others value. Believe me, that’s not the case—I’m content with the way I live. I only wish people would respect my space and leave me be.
People live fake lives these days, often meaning they are glued to their phones and feel they couldn’t manage without them constantly in their hands. I use my phone only for the occasional call and some texting — that’s it. I don’t download apps or use it to surf the web. My prepaid plan shows I’ve spent less than one percent of data because I simply don’t need it. I think I’m different and a little unique for not being attached to my phone.
I don’t want employment; my illness makes that impossible even if a job were offered to me. My anxiety and paranoia prevent me from holding down any steady work. For many people, employment is unavoidable — they’re too busy paying off the interest on their credit cards and other bills to be able to opt out. Not that I could afford it, but I couldn’t even financially buy or rent a place of my own right now. There are very few realistic options for me to move out from my parents; as usual, I would have to risk moving into shared accommodation, and I’m becoming really tired of that prospect. I have lived with too many different people over the years and it wears on me emotionally and mentally. I also need to get past the stigma and awkwardness of still living with my folks at my age, which feels like yet another hurdle to overcome. I do have special circumstances that make all of this more complicated but that’s not an excuse. It’s legitimist.