Member-only story
Teenage angst returns
The feeling of being stuck at home with no control
I lived in a basement for about 15 years.
The original plan was my dad was going to build our house, but he got busy with work so we never made it beyond the basement. I should add that it did have carpeting, a bathroom, a kitchen and a bedroom that I shared with my two brothers — all underground.
We lived on a plot of farmland on the edge of a woods and next to a hay field. When you grow up in a rural area, you have “neighbors” in the sense that people live a mile or two away. Sometimes you pull over and have a conversation on the road when you see them driving.
We got lucky that a boy my older brother’s age lived one farm over, and he often crossed the field to play basketball or a modified game of baseball where you ran to a tree and back after you hit the ball.
When I got older, I biked about 10 miles into town and visited the library, where I would spend all day using the dial-up internet or reading magazines. I got really into basketball in middle school and high school, and my mom drove me to the YMCA almost nightly to play pick-up with others my age. That felt like the height of freedom.
I had a happy childhood. I had friends, I took part in sports and activities and I still stay in touch…
