What I Learned About Myself While Practicing Social Distancing

There are many things that can cause someone to turn inwards in search of finding themselves. An emotional event, an epiphany of some sort, or perhaps a… completely unexpected pandemic?

With the spread of the Covid-19 pandemic across the globe, people have been forced into various states of isolation. We got the social distancers, the self-isolators, and the fully quarantined all rip-roaring and ready to go, well, nowhere.  For reals. Bitches be staying the fuck home.

There’ll never be a better time to search deep within the depths of your soul to truly get to know yourself and find out whether all those interpersonal issues really were just you after all.

It’s like a super-spiritual retreat to a monastery, except you’re alone, wearing the same pajamas for two weeks straight, eating dry ramen noodles, and mentally replaying that time you told the waiter to “salt me, daddy.” Gosh, there’s just so much more time to cry in the shower now!

But alas, we make the best of things when we can, so inwards we ride, a journey of self-discovery that smells slightly of Lysol and sadness. These are the things I learned about myself while in isolation.

I’m a loud chewer.

While masticating my fourth bowl of cereal of the day, it suddenly hit me that when I eat, it sounds like a malfunctioning garburator full of nickels. I could barely hear myself sobbing! When this all ends, I will no longer be accepting any dinner invitations.

My life has a soundtrack, and it’s just me singing my every fucking move.

I don’t have to do a soulful rendition of the “walking into the kitchen blues,” but bitch, I do that shit and I do it loud. All of a sudden, every officemate I’ve had that’s asked for a transfer has my complete understanding. I wish I could get a transfer too.

I realized that I’m only nice so that others see me as nice.

With nobody around, my mean streak has carte blanche to run this bitch. I kick table legs when they wrong me, I scream at the TV, I even shake my fist at the sun. THE SUN. In the absence of society, I’m literally picking fights with astral bodies. My ego is a fucking GIANT.

I learned that I never clean up after myself.

If we’re being honest, I’m truly disgusting. I barely have the counter space to make my third lunch each day. Also, I have no idea when I last did laundry. At least I’m showering, since the acoustics in there make it so that when I cry, it sounds like I’m not alone.

I learned that every man I’ve ever been attracted to reminded me of Michael Knight from Knight Rider.

This has been a surprisingly revelatory epiphany. I can’t wait to tell my sexy shaggy-haired therapist.

I realized that even though I consider porn exploitative and anti-feminist, desperate times call for desperate measures.

LOL, cardio, amirite?

Although this has been a lot to take in, I fear it’s just the start. All this time to think, think, think, in the absence of pretending to have it together is a real mindfuck. At least before, you could kind of gauge how bizarre you come across by the look of horror in other people’s eyes. How am I supposed to be okay without that look?

Getting to know yourself is no easy task. Although self-discovery sounds vaguely sexy and mysterious, it’s actually more akin to when you take the trash bag out of the container and there are assorted nasty tidbits floating in a stanky juice on the bottom. Now that’s what getting to know yourself better during a pandemic is like.

And darling, it ain’t pretty.

Written by: Mandi Em