Have you ever lived as a shut-in?

[Locut0s]

I'm in a rather unusual position here. I have never been in a position where I HAD to live life or starve, or be on the street. For most people it's not a choice to work or not to, if you want food in your mouth or want to stay off the street you work!

My parents have long been huge enablers. We are by no means wealthy but we have always been financially stable enough to allow for such a situation to develop. When I would have my periodic mental breakdowns, 4 or 5 or more of them now, they would always allow me to live at home no questions asked like a parasite. I would do nothing but eat and sleep, and browse the web for months on end. I was lucky if I were to get out for long enough to even walk around the block. They never forced me to get a job, or socialize, or asked me to pay rent or even carry my own weight around the house. I say they never forced me, but they definitely did "nudge" me. Which isn't to use them as an excuse for where I am, despite of all this I always knew the steps I needed to take and the things I "should" have been doing. I just never took the steps required out of fear, depression, and the good old "better the devil you know". Now at 31 I find myself STILL in this same situation like a 12 year old. I HAVE made some steps in recent months that I have not made in the past, like opening up to my psych. In more resent weeks I've submitted a number of resumes online despite every fiber in my being resisting it, I know in the past I would not have submitted them in this state. I've also been looking into doing volunteer work soon, probably in Jan if I don't hear from employers. So I suppose there is some potential light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Then again I've been back to square one so many times it's hard to tell what is light and what may be a "light echo" from the past.

I figure now that over the years I've spent 2 years or more living as a shut-in like this. They have been spread out over the past decade or more, usually in periods lasting 2-6 months after a breakdown.

I've always felt like a complete freak and loser living like this. To my surprise in resent years I've learned through other online communities that there actually are others out there in my situation and, surprisingly, some worse off. I've talked to some in their mid 30s who haven't left their house in years. This isn't something to aspire to whatsoever and I don't bring it up for that reason, but it was somewhat comforting to find others out there.

Has anyone here had any experience with living as a shut-in. Perhaps not with your parents, perhaps on your own? Those with agoraphobia often go through periods where they can't leave their house.

[HereSince1628]

1. In the interest of informing yourself, you might consider reading about a thing called

"learned helplessness", if you haven't read about it already.

Martin Seligman is the guy who invented the term for this several decades ago. He and others have written many books on the topic. Self-defeating personality is another name under which the topic has been discussed...

It's been discussed as a psychological syndrome, but it seems to me more a category/label for conversations about how some people react to and work around the dysfunction that comes with depression.

One of the features of depression is indeed lack of motivation. Learned helpless is basically about the phenomenon of surrendering/giving in to the illness and learning to live/'get by'.

I don't advise such reading as a hunt for a self-help guide to happiness, but rather a way to broaden your awareness of a thing related to what you seem to be talking around.

Enhanced awareness might support conversations with your therapist.

[Locut0s]

2. Interesting, thanks for the info...

I have never heard it called that specifically but I believe I've been self aware enough in recent years to realize that many of my issues stem from something of this nature. That is a maladaptive thought process that I've "learned". Unlearning it is the difficult part and where a therapist comes in. When incorrect though processes become so second nature that you are hardly concious of them, or even if you are you may not be conscious of their depth, it becomes quite difficult to stop.

For example I am aware that the reason I hide away at home here is the perception that the world does not accept failure, that I'll be ridiculed and shamed in the face of it. And yet I have enough anecdotal evidence to know that by and large this is NOT the truth. Internalizing this knowledge though, is another matter.

[hunter]

3. No agoraphobia, so I've never been "shut-in." But truth be told, I'm almost that. A hermit.

With the right meds I am a semi-functional human being.

My dad had autistic spectrum relatives who never went anywhere beyond their family subsidized apartments and the places they bought food and appropriate clothing. Some of them I never met. I only learned about them when they were dead. Funerals.

This kind of mental illness was the deep dark family secret. Some of these dysfunctional humans would turn out to be engineers and doctors and artists and scientists, but more of them the family would have to hide away.

I'm somewhat in the "hide away" spectrum.

Any kid who read but didn't talk much in our family was suspect. I could read perfectly when I entered kindergarten. Sixth grade level at least. I don't remember not being able to read. But I do remember plenty of "speech therapy." Speech therapy is where I went when the rest of the class (kindergarten, first, second, and third grade) were reading about Dick and Jane. That, and the "posture" classes. I was banned from the "monkey bars" and swings because I was a klutz who would injure myself or others. The recess and lunch playground supervisors knew about me...

In my mom's family nobody would have noticed the odd folk; it was just those people who stayed on the homestead.

Obsessions were often useful. My grandma understood hot metal, horny sailors she passed to women who would satisfy them, walking beef, horses, and dogs. The rest of her life was a mentally ill catastrophe. But the hot metal paid. During World War Two she was a dockyard welder by day and a party girl by night, dancing with sailors. My mom's "daycare" providers were hookers. They fiercely protected my mom. My mom was well loved even though her parents were dysfunctional.

My grandma retired with a good pension. Sadly, the police and paramedics had to remove her from her home when she became a danger to herself and others. My mom had already removed the guns she could find from grandma's house and fortunately my grandma did not remember where the other guns were hidden when the police knocked on her door. She had to make do with clawing, kicking, hitting, throwing things, cussing, spitting, and biting. The police and paramedics tolerated a few hours of that and they did not shoot her dead.

When my wife and I welcomed my grandma to "Our Big Catholic" wedding I was a little worried but she had a wonderful time as the crazy elderly woman in the wheelchair flirting with the handsome young guys.