52. I GOT THE MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND BLUES

A NOTE FROM 101 BAD DESI DATES: Dear Readers, as previously mentioned, I moved to New York over three years ago. And this year, in January 2010, I began blogging about my adventures (I joke and refer to them as misadventures). While the posts are written in present tense, they are about past events. Because I don’t want to confuse you lovely readers (and I know some of you desire timeline clarification) I will let you know when we time travel, which is happening now. The timeframe of this Post 52 is Memorial Day Weekend 2007 and we’re moving forward (i.e. Post 53 will be June 2007, etc.). If you have any questions please let me know. Again, thank you for your support!

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For the past six months I have been competing in Manhattan Olympics. I’ve earned gold in two events: squeezing onto crowded subways while toting carrier bags and running for transport (it’s amazing how fast I move in heels when I don’t want to wait 10 minutes for the next bus). Like a champion, I dine and discover my way across the City, no longer hyperventilating at the average $1.4 million cost of an apartment.

For those of you who have taken the Myers-Briggs personality inventory, I’m an ESFJ (extrovert-sensing-feeling-judging). With an off the charts “E”. I am not someone who thrives well when alone. But by moving to New York (where I have four friends, no family and work from home) I willingly isolated myself from an amazing support system. And I didn’t appreciate how the loneliness was challenging my sense of belonging and self-worth until Memorial Day Weekend.

From Friday morning to Tuesday evening, I don’t leave my apartment nor do I interact with another person. I really can’t offer a reason for why I didn’t even venture out to Starbucks. Sure, I could blame a well stocked fridge, my incredibly comfortable couch and a really good book. But I have never been good at reaching out or asking for help. I excel at loving others, but not myself. So when I finally realize my soul is starving for companionship, there isn’t anyone around to feed me. And my reality begins to depress me.