A Covid Introvert (?)

When the Covid lockdown began, I thought that my introverted self would be happy and relieved to be ordered to stay home instead of being guilted to get out already. In fact, staying home is now my civic duty—to protect myself and others from this plague.

My BC (before Covid) habit was to attend events every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Nowadays, my formerly built-in excursions have turned into Zoom sessions.

Thus, I have to take responsibility to make plans if I want to get myself out of my house. Because of my introversion, laziness, and tinge of agoraphobia, I need motivation to leave the house. Towards the beginning of shelter-in-place, I was going into my backyard to harvest fragrant lilac blooms. Since then, I made arrangements to meet a friend who lives nearby to walk around our neighborhood once a week, and I’d usually pick up some tasty food while we were out and about.

I tried to satisfy my need for connection by driving to another neighborhood and walking six feet away from another friend. Then I met two more friends on one’s back deck, but couldn’t bring myself to eat, drink, or remove my mask.

After three months of sheltering, my hug hunger has grown immense. I happily chanced upon a New York Times article about how to hug safely in a pandemic: outdoors, wearing masks, pointing your faces away from each other, and briefly.

Shortly thereafter, I went to meet members of my Tuesday brunch group on a patio outside the Randall Museum. We bought coffee and pastries inside, then went to eat them on the patio. For the first few months, my mask stayed on, even outside. I raised the bottom just far enough for each bite and sip through a straw.

I saw and hugged friends I hadn’t seen in person for three months. The first drops of rain hitting my dessicated ground were ecstasy.

It’s a shame that something so nourishing is still risky, but the risk is very much worth it for me. I tell myself that this nourishment builds me up, making me less depressed, less apt to fall sick, and more willing to reach out and encourage these women and other friends who are suffering in their own ways from the plague.

What’s surprising about this? Maybe how the calculus of risk versus benefit kept me alone at home for so long, and has now begun shifting towards acceptance of more risk as we elders settle in for the long haul.