pod

I’m back in New York for an industry conference. I am staying at Pod 51 in Midtown East, and it is the first time I’ve ever stayed at a Pod hotel. What I didn’t realize is that it truly is just a pod. I don’t even have my own bathroom, and the bedroom has only enough space for a bed and nothing more. I never thought of myself as a person who cared too much about staying at nice hotels, but it is only by staying here do I realize how much of my tastes actually have changed in the past couple of years. I haven’t stayed in a hostel for a long time. Mostly because I feel like Airbnb is more intimate for similar price points, but also because I don’t like sharing things. 

There is a sterile quality to hotels and airports that I like. It feels void of intimacy. A parallel to how I feel. There isn’t disconnection from how I feel versus how the world is. 

I am reminded of some feelings I had in college. A strong feeling propelling me to write in college was the feeling of FOMO. I felt that I wasn’t living the life that I wanted to live. I had this vision for the person I wanted to be in college, and I realized quickly that I wasn’t becoming that person. I felt that people who grew up with the same opportunities as me were living life larger than I was, filled with more professional accomplishment and more intense experiences. I felt it difficult to empathize with myself and my weaknesses knowing the source of the weakness isn’t any environmental variable I faced but just because of my personal weakness. And, as we all know, depression is rage turned inwards. And I used that rage to write beautifully for a while.

When I moved to New York after covid, I was in a relatively good space in my life. I had friends, I was in a nice relationship, I had a nice job, and everything was okay. New York had a lot to offer, and I was in a position to take what it had to offer because I had the people in my life to do so. 

When I moved to SF, I forgot about all that for a second. SF isn’t exactly known for its rampant materialism or self-image obsession or its “never sleeping” quality. Most bars close at midnight. The ones that don’t close at 2 AM, and there is nothing open after that. People wear the same Patagonia sweaters both in their own home and out and about. I don’t get much FOMO when I am in SF. I am acutely aware of how sleepy it all seems and how comfortable it is to stay inside on a Saturday night. I feel like I wasn’t specifically lacking anything in my life when I was filling my weekends with studying. I was uncomfortable because I am never comfortable. But considering that, I felt pretty comfortable on a day-to-day basis.

This time back in New York, I feel like things are lacking. I feel like I am not living glamorously. I feel like I don’t have enough friends to do intense activities with. It is a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. I feel like my awkwardness is returning. All these feelings and insecurities I thought I had left behind in college are coming back.

I am currently in the process of blocking out my weekend for my friends. There are a lot of friends I wish to catch up with, so my weekend is blocked away already. I don’t really feel close to people at the moment. It has always been a struggle for me, and it is especially hard when I am off my meds. My capability of feeling intimacy has been reduced, and I don’t have the same consistency as I did when I was in my relationship. When I see my friends, I’m sure it will be fine, but my feelings of loneliness or whatever come and go frequently when I am alone.

I am in a state of turbulence when I am alone, when idleness becomes chaos.