I was 30 when I moved back in with my parents. The breaks of my '63 VW Bug failed for the third and last time when I pulled into my parents driveway with 8 bucks to my name. (I could feel the brakes getting squishy so I geared down the car and stopped the car with the emergency brake.).

It was different circumstances than you. I was on a mission to live with a 93 year old Buddhist Monk. It was 1981. I was bound for California to learn Vipassanā Meditation in depth.

My father let me have a month off.

After I told him I wanted to be a writer F/T he told me I had to have a F/T job if I was to live with them, so I shelved writing again. I typed some in the evening. It wasn't the same as writing all day.

I applaud you for being vulnerable on your search for your self. A good piece of writing.