Curling up to the End

I have reached the stage of life I was hoping to predecease. After a lifetime of coping with the vicissitudes life handed out, I reached retirement. At that point I could devote my income to my own needs, surround myself with eye candy and pursue doing things I always wanted to try. All while enjoying the peace of minimal financial stress and no office politics.

That was a very good year – 2019. Then it all started falling through. I discovered that the area I chose to habitat was rife with people who shared absolutely nothing with me, from culture, adventure, and politics to religion. And my body failed me successively month by month. My mind remains sharp but my body no longer gives a damn what I want to do.

So I admitted that I can no longer live out here in the sticks all by myself without help just to get through everyday functions. No family or friends can step up to the task. Local aid for the aging is very limited. I cannot afford assisted living. After the experience I had of trying to get help for my mother, I don’t want to risk my life by going into state-run facilities.

So I found a way to get what I need, since my son is willing to part with money rather than having any family members get stuck caring for me. But at such a cost.

I will be moving out of the home I own to move into an apartment which is half the size, with a landlord. I have to give up most of the beautiful things that surround me. I will now have to obey a slew of rules on how I am allowed to live:

They will tell me when, where and what I can eat If anyone, friend or family, want to visit, they have to sign in at the front desk No dishwasher because they do not want me to cook in my kitchen No smoking unless I hike 200 feet to smoke in my car. Same for guests. Only access to the outside that *might* be available to me are tiny patios or balconies, usually shared with someone else. Doors locked at 8 pm. I will have a key, so I can still attend meetings ‘out in the world’. They want me to visit with friends and family in their meeting rooms rather than my own living room They want me to participate in stupid little crafts No doors on the shower; no bathtubs at all They have rules of what I can and cannot wear I have to take turns on the laundry room, which is rife with rules for sharing They have rights to enter my living space whenever they choose Cleaning crews can report infractions (such as smoking) Can’t even have candles They wanted direct access to my bank account. I pushed back on that one. While all the residents are on fixed incomes, rent goes up dramatically every year (“because they can”, I was told) I’m am introvert and have difficulty making friends. But they want to push me into socializing, After 20 years of living alone, I find this very intimidating I drive myself to everything, but they keep pushing the fact that they will drive me to the store, doctor’s appointments, and local restaurants. But I do need someone else to drive me home when I have procedures which use anesthesia – nope, they won’t do that. Insurance.

So basically this organization which professes to offer “independent living” actually will do the opposite. They will make me totally dependent on them. And by treating me like a very old cripple they will turn me into one. I expect to curl up in that cell and do as little as possible to keep them off my back. I will wrap myself in the arms of the democracy of the country I love and we will die together.