The Paradox of Quarantine as an Introvert

When I first heard that I had to move back in with my parents and finish the semester online, I was hit with a wave of conflicting emotions. I was in the midst of the busiest, most stressful semester of college, with days full of social outings, studying, club meetings, working multiple jobs, and preparing my scientific research for conferences. On the one hand, I was immensely saddened to leave behind my friends, professors, and research; on the other hand, the part of me that had barely been holding on throughout spring semester was relieved to get a "break" from all of the social and academic obligations.

Once I arrived back home, and the severity of this virus became apparent, I continued to face progressive isolation. My summer internship in a research lab was canceled, the state fell under a stay at home order, and I realized that I would not be able to see my friends face to face or go to a restaurant for the foreseeable future. I felt an irrational sense of guilt that somehow my antisocial tendencies had brought this upon myself. As a side note, the rational scientific part of my brain realizes that this is completely ludicrous and abhors any suggestion by others that this pandemic is in any way related to personal failure; infectious diseases are an act of evolution, nature, and collective human action, not an act of God as punishment for your sins. Despite my knowledge that this virus has nothing to do with me personally, I still felt guilty about the part of me that felt happy to leave my responsibilities and live in my bedroom alone.

Frankly, I love being alone. I do my best thinking, planning, and work when I am in complete control of my schedule and free from distractions. However, even with my social anxiety and general awkwardness, I deeply miss human contact and interaction. It feels like my brain is constantly at war between being glad that I don't have to interact with people anymore and the desperate longing to get coffee, go to a bar, or watch a movie with a friend. I have always had to make an effort to hang out with people, and now that I am relieved of that duty, my brain can't figure itself out. Although I know the pandemic is preventing me from socializing, my brain still interprets it as a personal failure that I am not hanging out with friends. I've been reading that people with anxiety disorders have responded more calmly to the pandemic because they are always dealing with an internal sense of doom. Some may think that us introverts suffer less from the isolation of quarantine, but I am realizing that needing alone time is very different from being forcibly isolated for an extended period of time. The productivity I would normally find while alone has given way to an anxious lethargy, in which accomplishments lose meaning and self-criticism runs rampant. It doesn’t help that a leading attitude on social media is that introverts should be able to thrive and accomplish great things in quarantine; if Newton can develop calculus in quarantine, shouldn’t I be able to apply to grad school?

As an anxious introvert who also loves her friends and career, this global catastrophe and self isolation are both welcome and terrifying. My previous levels of internal motivation seem to be waning the longer my internal monologue is the loudest voice in the room. As I march forward in the void of isolation, I am trying my best to accept the peace I feel alone, while also working to maintain my friendships and relationships and stay focused on taking care of myself and others.