The last days I remember a lot my first (and only) attempt to move out of my parents at the beginning of 2009. Then I did not succeed, exactly 6 months later I returned to them, as I ran out of money. 12 years have passed since then. And during all this time, I no longer made any attempts to move out of them. Strange ...
Incidentally, the story of the move then came out very sad for me. I even hate to remember it. As I remember now, it was February 22, 2009. There is a crisis and panic in the country. And I was pretty good. At that time I had my own online porn store on DVD recorded blanks, mailed them all over the country. The income was very decent by my then standards - at the level of 25,000 per month. Well, I was also badly brainwashed then. The fact that at 25 years old only losers can live with their parents, well, everything in this spirit. At that time I was still quite suggestible and had a poor immunity to public opinion =)
And so, in mid-February, against the background of all this, I make a decision: “How did they stop me! I'm moving away from them! "
My cousin suggested some agency to me, and they selected several suitable inexpensive options for a one-room apartment for me. I sifted out a couple of apartments (there were tattered shacks), and I liked one option. It cost like 17,000 a month, I don't remember. Then there was a crisis and rental prices were low. The apartment was more or less nothing, but "grandmother's option." I was not very picky then, I had bad tastes =) and even agreed to this option. I paid the agency 15,000 or 17,000 for finding me an apartment (fool, fuck), talked to the retired hostess, and they told me that I could move in tomorrow morning. It was February 22, 2009.
I came home that day, my mother returned from the store in a good mood, bought some cakes by February 23 and said that tomorrow we would have tea with them =). Dad was at home too. Parents still did not know anything - they did not even know that I was nursing the idea of ??moving out of them.
I started collecting my things in the room, putting everything in boxes and bags. Well, I told my mother in between times, going out into the corridor, that tomorrow morning I was leaving them. She reacted very aggressively to this. She called me a jerk or something like that, she started hysterical with tears, and then for a couple of hours she ran around the apartment in anger and in snot and clucked loudly. I did not enter into dialogues with her and did not say anything to her at all.
That evening I realized that, in fact, my mother is my enemy. Who only wished me harm. That is, maybe she herself believed that she wished me well, but in fact it was precisely the enemy who wanted me to always remain weak, dependent and a failure who is not able to be independent. That evening, I guess I even hated her. The next morning she did not speak to me (she did not answer me on "Good morning"), and so I moved out of them. I, too, did not even call her after 2 weeks and congratulate her on March 8.
In general, the congress from the parents was very negative and difficult psychologically. I was very sad that all normal people have normal parents who are proud and happy for the successes of their children, and would only be glad of this turn of events, but I have the most real Ugly and Enemies. Real ENEMIES to his son, who wish him only evil. I have not forgiven them for this, and I am not going to forgive them. I believe that this cannot be forgiven.
Although, parents - maybe this is not entirely accurate. Dad was generally silent then. He did not say a word to me, and even from his appearance I could not understand whether he was FOR me, or was AGAINST. But I still think he betrayed me. If he were a normal man, he would have barked properly at his wife, hit the table with his fist and told her that evening to get the fuck out. I couldn't tell her that - that would be disrespectful to my mother, but he could - he is a husband and has every right. He was silent while she clucked for almost two hours, which means he was on her side.
Life after moving? It was also so difficult psychologically that I don't even want to remember all this ...
Every couple of weeks Dad called me - he asked: "How are you?" He pissed me off and annoyed me terribly. I just wanted to forget about them and did not want to see or hear them. I understood that he was calling, most likely, at the behest of mother. Somehow I couldn’t even resist and told him that he was a little screwed up by calling me every couple of weeks, but it didn’t work - he continued to call anyway.
The owner of the apartment turned out to be, albeit quite a pleasant, friendly person, but at the same time a fucking soviet collective farmer. A couple of times she came without warning. I’m sitting at my computer and jerking off, and suddenly the doorbell rang - this whore got in to pick up something from the closet. I didn't want to spoil my relationship with her, so I gritted my teeth and opened the door and didn't tell her everything that I think about her. I'll never get in touch with the fucking pensioner again. Brainless and tactless.
Life? It was a nightmare. The toilet is ok it was done once after six months - before moving out. The sink and bath in general, it seems, did not clean. I didn’t have an ironing board or an iron - then I still walked like a gopnik and dressed in all the trash that I didn’t even iron after washing =). I slept on the bed, covering it with a sheet from the sofa (one and a half), that is, the sheet was smaller than the bed itself. I ate shit too. I absolutely did not know how to cook. Chocolates, cookies, big bon, rice, buckwheat, pasta, sausages, dumplings - that's what made up my diet. In general, I lived like an ordinary omission. Now it’s a shame even to remember and it all seems inconceivable to me. Still, in 12 years I have changed for the better =))
Then I was 25 years old, I was eaten from the inside by the problem of my virginity, my brain was so clouded that, one might say, then I was a completely different person. I was obsessed with the idea of ??"meeting girls", starting to live together with some of them, clubs, discos =), and so on. In general, my brain was inflamed and I was only thinking about how I could finally lose my virginity. It ate me from the inside, I had a porridge in my head. Now remembering all this is funny and very sad at the same time. What a fool and an idiot I was - beyond words.
Even then, I was very obsessed with the idea of ??"changing my life." I need to change my life ... Move on. Change, change, strive, change ... It was the same intoxication as with virginity. I was eaten from the inside by the fact that I was marking time. I longed for change, like Tsoi in his famous song. It was some kind of brain inflammation. But at the same time, I realized that I was failing. My life has not changed a bit - as I sat in my room before, living with my parents, so I sat in it now, with the only difference that now I was spending a lot of money for rent.
I naively thought that after the move my life would change dramatically, but with horror for myself I soon realized that nothing had changed.
And it also pressed very hard and eaten away at me from the inside. And then financial problems were added to all this. Then I was fond of motorcycle travel =), I had a 50-cc scooter, on which I liked to ride not only around St. Petersburg, like all normal people, but also loved to go on multi-day trips of 1,000 - 3,000 km with a tent =) to Moscow , to Vladimir, to Tver, to Veliky Novgorod, once even drove almost to Nizhny Novgorod.
By the middle of 2009, due to the depression, I started to dump the online store, earnings dropped dramatically, and coupled with high expenses (it takes a lot of motorcycle travel, if you love comfort) I quickly ran aground. And completely disappointed in everything on August 23, 2009 i returned to parents. I drove into them almost at night. I returned to my room angry, with hatred and in terrible depression. I literally threw things against the wall in anger. I returned to the hated house, which six months ago, it seemed, had said goodbye forever.
Remembered all this SHIT the last days. 12 years have passed, and a very unpleasant aftertaste has remained so clearly, as if it had happened a week ago. Remembering all this, I realized that during these 12 years absolutely nothing has changed. I am still living with parents.