I returned home and sought professional help. At first it worked… until the accounts arrived.
Even partial aid cost more than it could sustain.
In addition, each new person meant starting from scratch: explaining my habits, my tastes, my home. I felt tired, out of control, and increasingly dependent.
The residence: safe, clean… but not free
I agreed to try an assisted living facility. It was correct, orderly, well attended. But everything had a schedule:
- Sleep early
- Eating at five
- Do not leave after a certain time
One night I wanted to walk in the open air. They arrested me.
—Security policy.
I was 83 years old and someone decided when I should sleep.
That was not living. It was to exist.
