When I was young (from ~16 - 19) I entered a hikikomori type of way. I couldn't tell you what started it, really. I had never been one to make friends. I grew u

When I was young (from ~16 - 19) I entered a hikikomori type of way. I couldn't tell you what started it, really. I had never been one to make friends. I grew up largely alone, and never felt lonely. That level of isolation into one's teenagerhood defines one's identity, I think. You can cycle inside your mental landscape almost eternally, spiraling ever deeper into increasingly abstract conceptions on onesself and onesself's relationship with the world. I joined a forum for shut-ins like myself. Many were older than me. They had realized that they are slowly being left behind by the world they knew, as their friends and family 'moved on' in life but they stood still in their homes. It wasn't agoraphobia, although some were agoraphobic. Some was due to trauma they cannot recover from. Others were disillusionment from society. Misanthopy. Autism. There were a myriad of reasons. These people taught me a lot about what it means to be alone in a social world. There was much pain, even anguish. It's easy to lose onesself in anger when the world seem so still in your room. It's one of the only things that makes one still feel like a living creature, and not a ghost waiting to leave the shell. I had friends who aren't around anymore. Their anger went self-directed. They couldn't escape the pain. Others lashed out, and I couldn't be friends with them anymore. They followed pattern of self-isolation that prepetuated even over the internet. I'm not surprised that violence occured. It's rather interesting to me that the concept of a hikikomori is viewed generally as a Japanese specific construct. In reality, I think the hikikomori concept is reflective of an international disenfranchisement of young adults as they come into their own and realize the world has many problems that they are ill equipped to tackle, within themselves and within the literal global landscape. I'm 25 now. I didn't think I'd live this long. Sometimes I mourn the isolation I left behind. The world is so bright and big, filled with light and wonder almost blinding, sorrow and suffering almost deafening.