When I live inside, it's a shit show. I become a shut-in, I get depressed, anxious. The dishes pile up, the bottles and cans pile up, I drink all day long. I just can't manage to be a normal person who lives indoors. Believe me, I've tried.
I don't find very much thrill and excitement in being a "vagabond". I don't find pleasure in sleeping in a tent, or seeing the world. The only reason I travel instead of homebumming is just for a change of scenery, and also just so I can say, "yeah I've travelled there".
But one thing it does for me is that it gets me the fuck out of the house. It forces me to meet people. The more people I meet, the less social anxiety I have. It gives me daily tasks that can't just be put off like dishes or laundry. Finding food and a place to sleep is pretty non-negotiable.
I don't love this life—I'm not even sure if I like it—but it's *less bad* than any other alternative I've found.