Growing Up As A Shut-In/Introvert

For the vast majority of people here in the UK, their late teenage years were most likely spent admiring the freedom of adulthood: moving out into student accommodation, discovering new bars and/or clubs, in addition to the frequent drunken kebab at three in the morning on a Tuesday.

I spent mine inside my bedroom, with as minimal social interaction as possible. During those years, I learned a valuable lesson: when people tell you to ‘just be yourself’ they have no idea what they are talking about.

Reducing yourself to a depressive state of reclusiveness is no brand-new pandemic; both the BBC and CNN have published pieces on the ‘Hikikomori phenomenon.’ A prominent issue affecting hundreds of thousands of Japanese youths that have resorted to staying inside for months on end; disconnecting themselves from society as a whole. In recent times, it seems it isn’t just affecting those in Japan.

My personal reasons for becoming a Hikikomori range from a less-than-stellar school life, plethora of anxieties and complex uncertainty of what I ever wanted to do with my life. That said, everyone’s answer was always “Just get a job,” as well as “or perhaps look into some clubs to meet people!” It isn’t that easy. I despise most people; I despise the way we look at each other; only to converse when we want something from the other; the ‘living to work’ lifestyle that we don’t even bother questioning. Don’t get me wrong, I do want to work and I would like friends. I want to contribute to projects and I would like to make a difference on Earth, but who doesn’t?

Let’s be real, this isn’t entirely surprising. The rise of technology has offered some strong reasons to avoid going and facing your problems. With a depressive state of mind, it is evidently very quick to fall into an addicted state; a zombie that consumes various means of entertainment media every day. This is exactly what I did. My daily routine consisted of: waking up at any time (both day and night), find something to eat, playing the videogame of my choice, watch some television shows and movies, then repeat.

In hindsight, dropping out of college within the first three months probably wasn’t the best of ideas; already somewhat recluse and lacking in friends, removing myself from that forced state of social interaction only made it worse: I lost those few college acquaintances I did have.

So, how do people get out of being Hikikomori? In short, many don’t. Suicide rates among Hikikomori are staggering. The realisation that you cannot stay inside and be supported by others forever only adds to the pre-existing mental problems they face. Some areas – mainly in Japan – offer support groups for Hikikomori, allowing them to briefly get outside and rebuild their social skills with other Hikikomori. Tatsuhiro Takimoto – once a Hikikomori himself – is known for his 2003 novel ‘Welcome to the N.H.K’ which concludes the answer to the pandemic with ‘having someone there to push you over the edge but catch you in the end.’

How am I doing now? I’m still a shut-in, although not as much these days; I tend to force myself to take walks occasionally so I stay relatively healthy and kept together. I attempt to earn a decent enough income as a freelance writer and asset trader, fighting against any chance of having to get a 9-5; anything to avoid having to join the rat race.