Dependence on Others

I have found that I am not as much as a solo creature as I used to be. I think I have grown accustomed to having people around. I now hesitate to go out alone, and I only do so as a last resort - even staying in by myself has a higher place on my list of options. Though I am pleased that I still find going out alone comfortable. The debate now is whether this is good or bad.

In some ways, it is good to be a social creature. One cannot live in a bubble, after all. And I bet needing others makes me, in turn, a better friend.

But I find myself being frustrated by my dependence on others. I feel trapped inside my apartment if no one is available to spend time with me, which in turn makes me feel angry. And then there is the trouble of hunting down people and inviting them out. Rejection is hard even when it is a casual invitation. I don't know how to inject myself into fully formed friend groups. And besides, should someone have to inject herself into fully formed friend groups, or should it happen naturally?

My struggle over this conundrum is actually beginning to affect my relationships with others. A co-worker of mine, someone I always felt comfortable around, has recently proven to be too much for my social anxiety. Having devoted myself to my relationship, I haven't developed a precedent for spending time with this co-worker outside of work despite my interest to do so. Now that I'm free, I've tried to start such a precedent, but I've been hitting nothing but walls (though I'm not sure if they are imaginary or real). So I stopped trying. He continues to be nice to me, oblivious to my frustration with him. And now I'm stuck. Do I face this head on - approach him, tell him how I feel? Or do I let it go? I've tried too hard and put too much in too many situations in the past - almost all being completely or mostly unrequited. So I'm quick to write people off and move on.

And so I am torn between needing social interaction and resenting that need.

I suspect Facebook makes it worse. It is easy to develop a (probably false) sense of inclusion and attachment. I can be in touch with real live people at any moment. I find that I'm on Facebook almost all day, scrolling through others' public displays. Yet I'm afraid to "cut the cord" as it were. I'm in the middle of a job search, and there are social benefits to staying in touch even through social media. Pluses and deltas. Pluses and deltas, man.

This post is not at all connected to food. I apologize. Perhaps I will leave you with this thought: ice cream is delicious whether it is enjoyed together or alone. It is the perfect food.

Oh right. This thing.

I started this blog in 2011. I wrote one glorious post with all of the intentions in the world. And then I abandoned it.

Well, I've spent the last 4 years in a dead end relationship and a grueling, emotionally damaging job. And then, in November I decided to finish out my contact with my current job and then never ever return.  For reasons that are unimportant to explain now, I cannot leave that job until July 1st.

And then, to continue the theme of "everything in my life needs to change," in January I had an epiphany about my relationship - it was a dead end. It was time to get out. So, I did just that.

So in the span of just a few months, I went from having a secure and solid job and a happy relationship to having none of those things. Suddenly every aspect of my life was up in the air, or at least would be as soon as my contract expired in July.

Amidst the dust from the demolition around me, I thought that I wanted to stay in the area I am currently in, an area to which I moved 4 years ago because my ex-boyfriend wanted to live here for his career. I'd spent the last 4 years cultivating friendships and learning the lay of the land. My break up was utterly smooth and peaceful. I had no reason to leave. I would find a new job around here, and life would continue.

But then I began to reflect on the life I do have here. I spent the last 6 months intensively attempting to make my relationship work. I had spent all of my free time trying to make him feel loved and supported. As the dust settles, I realize that there is almost no one left. The friendships I had did not hold up to my recent absenteeism. Plus, the novelty of my current location has also begun to fade, and now the charm isn't even enough to keep me here for sure. I had no reason to stay.

So. I am now free to sail with the wind.

There is just one problem.

I can't tell which way the wind is blowing.

Fine. I lied. There are actually two problems.

Not only can I not tell which way the wind is blowing, but I also have anxiety and depression, which tell me that I need a plan now or else I'm going to shrivel up and die.

Oh, and when you google "Type A Personality," the first result is a picture of me. I plan everything all the time. I'm obsessed with making plans. After I submit a resume for a job, I immediately begin googling apartment rental rates in the area. I map the distance between that area and my parents' house so I know how long it will take me to travel home for a visit. I yelp coffee shops. I convince myself that this is the job and the town for me. And when I don't immediately hear back from the job posting, I crumble and die.

Because I need a plan right now, dammit.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because I have come to realize over the last month that I don't know who I am or what I want or where I'll be in the future and if I don't figure out how to stop obsessing over all of the unknowns and all of the holes in my life I'm going to curl up and die before I get to see where the wind finally does blow me.

I think it is time to reconnect with me. And I am going to do that by returning to my Solo Foodie ways. So, here goes nothing.

Step #1: An Introduction

"When you are comfortable with “eat lunch and run”, take yourself out for dinner; a restaurant with linen and Silverware. You’re no less an intriguing a person when you are eating solo dessert and cleaning the whip cream from the dish with your finger. In fact, some people at full tables will wish they were where you were." -Tanya Davis, "How To Be Alone"

I'm a foodie. I love food. I'm also not very picky. I love Taco Bell as much as any authentic Mexican restaurant. I love Hershey bars as much as any designer chocolate. So, as you can imagine, this blog will not be a review of the cuisine at restaurants.

No, this will be an exploration of the experiences of a solo diner.

Our society has groomed us to be afraid to be alone, especially when dining. To dine alone in public is weird, if not sad and depressing. Clearly there must be something wrong with a solo diner in a sit down restaurant. To spend that much time alone with one's thoughts has to be maddening.

I am here to challenge that.

I am a solo person. Or at least, my life has put me in a position to be a solo person. I realized that I was missing out on so many opportunities because there was no one to go with me. So I decided to start doing things on my own. Museums, the zoo, visiting cities, and dining. There is no reason why I should miss out on a great dining experience just because I'd be asking for a table for one.

And then I discovered that the most interesting things happen when you are "alone." Your waiter talks to you, and for a moment - or for an hour - you're connecting with another human being. You're learning about his life. He's learning about yours. You create a memory of that person and then you take it away with you.

Or, suddenly all the other noises around you are loud and clear. You hear bits and pieces of conversations going on, and you get glimpses into other people's worlds. You hear about their worries or their joys or about their everyday lives. It is amazing how rich the imagination can be upon hearing only a snippet of conversation.

And that is why I'm starting this blog. I want to chronicle my experiences as a solo foodie. A person who finds peace and joy in eating at a table for one while experiencing the finer, more subtle moments in life - connecting with perfect strangers.