After much time (five months to be exact), I’m finally ready to speak about my experience with the pandemic. I needed time to remove myself and heal from the situation I was in.
I had many people reach out to me to ask how I was holding up living in New York City during the COVID-19 pandemic.
I’m here to tell you that story.
I want to discuss my experience living as a resident of Manhattan during the outbreak of the pandemic. Part of the reason I want to tell this story is that it’s most likely much different than you were led to believe. Also in this blog, I want to share with you how the quarantine drove me to a very dark place. Let’s jump right in.
The Beginning
My parents came to visit me in the city from March 10-15. That conveniently (said with an overwhelming amount of sarcasm) happened to be the week of the COVID-19 outbreak! YAY! The first day with my parents was great! Everything went swimmingly and we had a great time. But over the next couple of days, everything turned serious. I remember walking down the packed streets of Manhattan and hearing nothing but talk of the virus. And I’m not exaggerating when I say everyone was talking about it. We would walk for blocks and each conversation we overheard was about COVID. Over the next few days, the city began to shut down. First, my school canceled classes for the rest of the week. I was joyous then because it meant I could spend more time with my parents! I thought the cancellation was temporary; that it would only last a few days. I obviously now know just how wrong I was. I was blissfully unaware that I wouldn’t be returning to school for the rest of the semester. With school canceled, we had two extra evenings free! My parents and I excitedly purchased $20 tickets to Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. That’s right. $20. For BOTH parts. I was ECSTATIC. This is one of the most incredible shows I’ve ever seen and I was so excited to share it with my parents. After we obtained the tickets, we went on our merry way completely unaware of the pure disappointment we would experience later that day. You’ve probably guessed by now, much to our dismay, Broadway shut down that night (and has yet to reopen). The most heartbreaking part of this story is we had tickets to see To Kill a Mockingbird on Saturday (which I had seen previously and was blown away by how astoundingly good it was). I was so excited to see this show with my parents, but alas, the day never came. Over the span of five days, we watched the city shut down. By the last day, my mother and I really didn’t have many options for fun activities to do, so we improvised. We got artisanal donuts and drinks from local cafes, held some kittens at a pet store, and walked around the city for hours taking in the sights of the city. We truly did make the best of our day considering the circumstances because both she and I cherish the memory of that delightful day. A final cherished memory before the world shut down. Now that I’ve given you a bit of a backstory, let’s delve into the two very different experiences I had during the one month of living in Manhattan during the pandemic: the communal experience and my solo experience.
My Solo Experience
I was in New York from the start of the pandemic in March until early April. Pretty soon into the pandemic, both of my roommates left the apartment to get out of the city. I was virtually alone for an entire month. In all honesty, I really loved living on my own and soon realized that I preferred it. However, because of everything shutting down and everyone being required to isolate, my human interaction was practically non-existent. Let me be very clear when I say: I am not one to get lonely. In fact, I feel confident enough to say that I rarely get lonely. I do quite well on my own; always have. But something I realized as I reflected upon my time in quarantine after having moved back home is how necessary frequent-human-interaction is for my mental health. I may not get “lonely” in the traditional sense of the word, but my solitude began to get the better of me without my knowledge.
Usually, my necessary fill of human interaction is provided through school or my dance program. I would look forward to those moments of solidarity when I would come home after a busy day, make a cup of tea, and decompress. However, because of the quarantine, this (unbeknownst to me) crucial element of socialization was now absent. This is one of the main reasons my mental health began to plummet during my time in quarantine. If you know me, you know I keep myself busy on purpose. It’s a choice I make because it’s how I prefer to live (hence me moving to somewhere as fast-paced as NYC). So, when everything in my life suddenly shut down I was left with too much free time. Too much time to myself. I went from doing 12 dance classes a week, four hours of school at night, four hours of dog walking a week, while also making time for friends to absolutely nothing. For the first two weeks of quarantine, I had classes over Zoom, however, it proved to be incredibly difficult to focus and I soon lost my passion and drive. I became disinterested because I wasn’t able to focus or experience my classes as I did in person. I have since discovered that online learning is very difficult for me. The one thing I had to look forward to that would distract me from the state of the world soon became a reminder of the tragic reality. This reality that I couldn’t go to school and see my friends. I couldn’t perform my scene in person. I couldn’t have any contact with anyone. My dance program also being canceled took a toll. Not only did it also keep me busy, but it was my main form of exercise. I happen to be one of those people who require daily/frequent exercise to maintain stable mental health. I somehow need the intense release of energy that exercise provides to improve my quality of life. Without this, I begin to feel the negative effects quite quickly.
So, with school ending early (we decided to postpone rehearsal projects) and my dance program being canceled, I was left with nothing on my agenda. I tried to keep myself as busy as possible with online dance classes, organizing and cleaning my apartment, personal projects, etc. This only worked to a certain extent. Being holed up in my room all day was so bad for my mental health. I understand some people are different and would find that to be a luxury, but to me, it was imprisonment in the place I previously felt safest in. I was spending 90% of my day inside my room because I had no other choice. I was originally going to the gym for a while, but those soon shut down as well. Everything had to be done from the “comfort” of my room. That sense of comfort quickly dwindled as each day passed. The lack of sunlight was also a major contributing factor to the decline of my mental health. My room faces another tall building, so despite having a large window, not much direct sunlight enters. With this lack of sunlight paired with seasonal depression, I felt as though I was deteriorating. Going outside, one of my favorite activities, became a chore. I couldn’t motivate myself to do anything. I would lay anxiously on my bed trying to motivate myself for hours to get up and go outside. But it was to no avail. Rarely did I succeed in pushing past this mental block. I was stuck inside my room looking forward to the end of each day. One thing that became quite difficult for me was night time. I have a few theories as to why. The acting program I am currently enrolled in takes place four hours every night from 6:30 pm to 10:30 pm. Because of this, I associated night with productivity, learning, acting, engaging with others, etc. When that was no longer available to me, nights became scary. I’ve always had sleeping issues, but during this time, they worsened. I wanted nothing more than to be unconscious, but I found myself lying awake for hours; my mind racing. Anxious thoughts consumed me. When I fell asleep, there was no sense of comfort because of how vivid my nightmares had become. I have always suffered from daily-nightmares my entire life, but during this time, they were monstrous. I was in this difficult place where I was scared to fall asleep, but also wanted nothing more than to be asleep. My nightly struggle ended up resulting in a form of PTSD. When I went home, it took me about a month to not get depressed and scared at night. My association with the night was now a negative one. So every time the sun would set, those feelings would return. Night has always been one of my favorite parts of the day, but the pandemic altered my perspective. Fortunately now, I am healed and have once again found beauty and enjoyment in the night, but the recovery was not easy. Because of the sheer amount of time I had, my food addiction sky-rocketed. Food was one of the only things I had to look forward to. I began to discover a love for cooking (which is the only positive outcome of this addiction). So much of my quarantine time was spent in the kitchen, crafting delicious food. Now, I was already struggling with eating habits before the pandemic, so once it hit, they only got much worse. Food quickly became all I could think about. 90% of my day focused on what I would be eating. It was my main form of pleasure. A good meal meant a good release of dopamine. It became the primary supplier of my happiness. Immediately after each meal, I would think about what I would eat next. I would anticipate my next meal for hours. Looking at photographs of food from restaurants on Yelp became a frequent pastime. Every night, as I was falling asleep, I would daydream of what I was to eat for breakfast. I would look up recipes; trying to make each meal better than the last. And with this, it’s no surprise that my binge-eating got worse. Food was the main source of my happiness and my addiction overtook me. It was quite frankly controlling my life. And at the same time all of this was going on, I was terrified of gaining any weight. In an attempt to maintain any sense of control, I would restrict myself to a certain amount of food each day. This only amplified my cravings. Let me be very clear: I wasn’t restricting to the point of starvation or to the extent that I could be diagnosed with anorexia-nervosa, rather, I was restricting in the sense that I aimed for around 2,000 calories a day. I was restricting myself from potentially eating all day, every day. But as we all know, any sort of restriction is unhealthy. I was constantly craving food. I was always wanting to eat. And often at night when my mental health was at its worst, I would go into the kitchen and gorge myself to feel some sort of pleasure. My food addiction was arguably the worst part of my quarantine. And what’s interesting is I didn’t realize just how bad it was until a few months after being home. I knew it was an issue, but I didn’t realize the extent of it. My addiction and anxiety revolving around food took a while to recover from. My mother even took notice of my dependency on food. Fortunately, I have since mostly recovered but in all honesty, I am extremely fearful of relapsing. The thought of going through something so horrendous again is currently quite frightening, however, I am relatively stable at the moment. I was living in the epicenter of the virus. So anxiety and fear were abundant and amplified. I was obviously no exception to this. Even with my mental health in the state that it was, I refused to leave Manhattan for quite some time. I didn’t want to go back home. People in my life concerned for my safety were inducing more panic in me as they felt the need to inform me of potential “worst-case scenarios”. This only made me want to stay longer as a form of defiance. But eventually, I put my ego aside and decided that it would be best for me. So I decided less than 22 hours from my flight that would take me back home, that I would be leaving the next day. I packed in one night and was ready to go the next morning at 6 am. I only prepared myself for being home for two weeks; three if I really had to. Little did I know that those two weeks would turn into four months. In the end, coming home ended up being the right decision for my mental health. There, I had my parents whom I was living with. I was in a city that was significantly safer than New York, thus, the pandemic protocols were not as strict. There was more to do. More people to see. All of this, but especially the human interaction, soon brought me out of the depths of my depression.
Now, I am aware, that was a lot of heavy stuff. But I would now like to end this topic on a
lighter note. The one pivotal, positive aspect of this quarantine has been the re-ignition of
my creativity regarding visual art. I’ve always had a strong passion for visual art, but never
enough time to consistently be creating it. However, because of the free time this pandemic provided, I began making so much art. I believe that I’ve made more art in these five months of quarantine than I have for the past couple of years. It opened a whole new door of my self-expression and passion. It became a much-needed form of catharsis. My motivation and drive to make something of my art began to overflow. I realized I could start my own business with my art, and that’s exactly what I did. This is something I’ve always wanted to do but never have had the time or means to commit...until now. My creativity and passion for visual art have blossomed in a way I would’ve never expected it to. In that sense, I am thankful for this quarantine.
The Communal Experience
Let me start off by stating the obvious: the news is frightening. Strategically so. The news is fueled by the fear of its audience. They thrive by focusing on the negative perspective of any situation/story. In other words: they sensationalize their stories. So much so that I can’t watch the news if I want to maintain any form of sanity. The only COVID related news I will engage in are articles and videos on the latest protocols that’ll keep me informed; that’s the extent. News that is shown on television I completely avoid like the plague. And with the quick and deadly-spread of COVID, fear and negativity was all the news portrayed. This was intentional as a strategy of inducing panic amongst the public to create awareness and caution. Images of ambulances and dead bodies covered in white plastic sheets flashed on every screen. Hospitals with dozens of patients and no room. Respirators, masks: the images of these are burned into our minds. And with NYC as the epicenter, there was no state being reported on more often. My point being is that you have most likely these frightening images and videos of NYC during the pandemic. They are horrific. So, why am I bringing this up you may ask? Well, the next portion of this blog focuses on my perspective of what daily life was actually like in Manhattan; much different from what the news portrayed it as. No, there were not bodies everywhere. No, ambulances weren’t speeding down every street 24/7. Let me tell you what it was like for me. Let’s dive in.
I will tell you that my social, communal experience with this pandemic was quite extraordinary. From my firsthand experience, the most beautiful thing that emerged from the pandemic was a sense of peace and communion amongst humans. Let me elaborate.
Grocery Stores As funny as it may sound, I experienced a considerable sense of support and community while waiting in the ten-minute line to get into Trader Joes. The grocery store is the place where I went most often during the pandemic because as we all know, groceries are essential and take-out food from restaurants was practically unattainable (not to mention, expensive). Practically every other business was closed. On multiple occasions, while in line to enter the store, I had many friendly conversations. My theory as to why this type of interaction became more frequent is the fact that these trips to the grocery store were the most interaction anyone was getting. People were taking advantage of the socialization. The most curious aspect of this was how incredibly friendly everyone was. Instead of being pessimistic about the state of the world, we would stand in line and crack jokes, and laugh with one another. It was a breath of fresh air. Likewise, at checkout, the workers were always so incredibly friendly and talkative. It was this immense sense of coming-together. A trip to something as mundane as the grocery store became a treat. I always left with an appreciation for people. I also must mention, this sort of attitude wasn’t exclusive to grocery stores; I experienced it everywhere. The kindness and generosity of my fellow New Yorkers during these times grounded me. When your whole world is shut down so suddenly, it’s no surprise that you begin to appreciate the pedestrian parts of life. This sort of empathy that I was witnessing multiple times on a day-to-day basis kept me sane. It felt like the entire city came together to support each other. I have never felt so connected to people I’ve never met. Everyone was experiencing the same thing. Everyone was hurting. This common factor caused by the pandemic became a commonality between complete strangers. This is especially amazing to see in NYC, a place where not everyone is incredibly friendly. However, this mutual understanding paved a path of empathy, understanding, and kindness. It was one of the most amazing, uplifting, hopeful, and unexplainable things I’ve ever experienced.
To further support this idea, here's my own testimonial from March 25 when a friend of mine reached out to ask about my experience with the coronavirus, especially while living in New York:
"There's still quite a bit of people on the street, but I have noticed the numbers dwindling. Everyone is quite civil about the whole situation here. There's still food, still toilet paper, etc. It feels very communal in a sense. I went to central park the other day when it was sunny, and TONS of people were there. It was amazing. People were running, biking, playing games like soccer, there were kids everywhere, tons of dogs, and I just sat and doodled for an hour and soaked up the sun. It was really nice to see that life was still happening despite the circumstances. Since you're a theater major I can kinda relate this back to theatre. In improv, we have this game where we are living in "the beyond". Essentially, there is something either in the past or future that is effecting our current state (such as we are going to die in 24 hours), but none of us in the scene are addressing it. In fact, it's in the rules of the game to be doing and talking about something completely unrelated to this event. The point of the game is to see if the audience can pick up and guess what this "beyond" is without us directly talking about it. ANYWAY, I gave all of that explanation to say: that's kinda how life has been. Life has been that improv game. Life has been going on as best we can, we've been continuing our day to day tasks, but there's always that "beyond" lurking amongst us whether we address it directly or not"
Silence
Yes. Silence.
Can you imagine? New York City, quiet? Well, I can because I experienced it firsthand. As the pandemic progressed, activity in the city began slowing down quite quickly. As the number of people reduced in the city due to a large portion of the population leaving, so did the noise pollution.
Pedestrians on the streets became less common. Music was no longer constant in the subways. The roads became emptier. he streets eventually looked like a ghost town. And the city was quiet. Never have I witnessed the city so… silent. A comment I heard multiple times from locals about how silent New York had become was: “you can finally hear the birds”. Upon hearing that statement, I fully realized just how truly quiet the city was. Now, don’t get me wrong, silence is often preferable the cacophony of clanging metal garbage cans, half-yelled drunk conversations, blasting music, and constant sirens and car horns, yet, it didn’t feel right. There was this air of peace all throughout the city, but at the same time, there was something so ominous about New York, a place constantly bustling with noise, being so quiet. It was quiet. Yet it was peaceful. But it was different. Walking down the familiar streets of the city became a foreign experience. It was equally eerie as it was peaceful.
Imagery
If the pandemic were to be represented in one photograph, I know exactly what image I’d use: a single white sheet of paper taped on the shop of a window.
I have a clear and vivid image burned into my mind of walking down blocks and seeing that posted on every shop window was a white sheet of paper. Take into account just how many stores are on a single block in New York City. Now every one of those stores has a single sheet of paper. Now that’s quite a visual. On these sheets of paper were announcements regarding the indefinite closing of that business due to COVID-19. Second to this would be the image of chalk and stickers posted on the floor telling people to stand 6-feet apart. Now, this is extremely common nowadays, but when the pandemic first arrived, seeing these was shocking. I took some photographs knowing that I wanted to write this blog one day.
The image of a white sheet of paper posted on store windows is forever engrained in my mind. I will always associate it with the pandemic.
Present Day
I’m glad/relieved to finally have this blog out. I’ve been writing it incrementally for months. I’m actually somewhat surprised I’ve finished it. I am now back living in the city and have become rather accustomed to the way we currently must live. Circumstances are a lot better than they were when the pandemic first hit. But realize, it took me around four months to fully recover from the psychological effects of quarantine. I was initially terrified to move back to NYC; fearful of a repeat of what happened. Fortunately, being home and having the support of my parents and a few of my best friends really healed me. During this time, I also got my kitty, Nutmeg, who has been a dream come true. I am extremely grateful for those four months at home. I ended up having one of the best summers. But I knew I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to stay. I was ready to move back. And now, having been back in the Big Apple for over a week, I can happily say that the city is in a much better situation and I am in a much better place mentally. Finally, I hope you and your family and friends are staying safe during this insane time. Keep looking forward. Take each day at a time. Everything you’re feeling is valid. Remind yourself of what you’re grateful for. This isn’t forever. You can do it. And for god’s sake, WEAR A MASK. Thanks always for reading <3
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