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Young, broke and quarantined: My coronavirus diary

Bianca Iovino reveals how losing her job during coronavirus impacted her. Source: Getty
Bianca Iovino reveals how losing her job during coronavirus impacted her. Source: Getty

At the start, when we were told that day would be the last at the office for the foreseeable future, the magnitude didn’t register.

It was cloaked by the feeling of a faux holiday, where I’d have to stay home: pants unnecessary, free to watch as much Vampire Diaries as I pleased. Some time to catch up on my ‘passions’, as if the new uncertainty of my career and the health of the world wasn’t searing my brain.

It felt quite delicious, initially.

With most of my friends in the same situation, the sensation was like one big sleepover, except with no touching and the existential panic-shaped elephant in the background of every FaceTime. The midday news blared, accompanying vodka for lunch - connection to the chaos from my bubble.

The novelty of this surreal lifestyle hovered for the first fortnight. But there were no answers to pacify us and the cool exterior of the big guys at the top seemed ruffled. The headlines at 2pm could change wildly by 3.

The worry and absence of routine began to erode my mental health. Not going to work to earn my living, no knockoffs at the pub nor a gruelling workout at the gym fed that niggling voice that said, ‘you’re not doing anything, you’re being so lazy.’

The niggling turned into full-blown chatter and eventually my thoughts were swamped by the whip of my workaholic-complex cracking in my ears. A work-withdrawal if you like.

Causes, treatments, overcrowding, ingesting disinfectant, STAY HOME - this slurry of thought churned in my head like the hypnotic blue of the servo’s frozen drink machine. After a while, that dialogue toxically pickles the brain.

Speaking for my age group, us 20-somethings have traditionally copped flack for being too nonchalant about almost everything. Warranted, in some cases. But for the rest of us there’s been a feeling of our cries being drowned-out by the world’s other problems – like a mum trying to maintain a phone call and cook dinner with a toddler pulling at her hem.

We are the toddlers. I can already hear the scoffs and hard-done-by comments, but you must understand our environment. We have lived in an age where being constantly ‘productive’ has been glorified all our life. The expectations for us have barely flexed from times gone past as the world morphed into a fast-paced, hyper-stimulated and unstable place.

It’s daunting and draining to know we must navigate it and challenge the expectations for the rest of our lives. Make it all come to a screaming halt in the form of quarantine, and the cracks in this overachiever psychology are clear as day. We aren’t too good at doing nothing.

All this ‘spare’ time has us doing all sorts of things to burn off steam.

Some have tried to improve the space around them – repainting their room or nicking a rogue aloe plant from a council strip to add some greenery to their space. A zen environment to manifest a zen state of mind, or something to that sentiment.

Others are reigniting their love of activities they once indulged in, some shaky drawings, slightly off piano chords or a loaf of sourdough which has become a popular and yummy pass-time.

Amongst this manic energy, there are some pockets of humility and humanness that reinvigorate my hope in our species. Friends supporting band mates who can’t perform live by sharing their Instagram post or sparing a few dollars to buy some merch. Tattoo artists producing artwork that’s being snapped up from their Etsy by faithful clients desperately waiting to be stabbed again.

We may be jittering around like cooped up kindergarten kids, but we seem to have a strong sense that we aren’t the only ones suffering – a sliver of solace and rationale that puts our situation into perspective.

Now a few months in, I find myself as a JobSeeker.

Unacquainted with our welfare department since my Youth Allowance days at university, I did not expect to deal with them again so soon nor am I ‘seeking’ a job. I want my old one back. The normalcy of my life to return. To feel the pride and independence of earning my wage and pulling my weight in our society.

Once before, recipients of Centrelink were looked down on, assimilated with bludgers and the golden Millennial trigger word – lazy. So, you can imagine the sensation when applying for it.

However, I can’t say I feel any of that stigma because it’s not like it was a choice. I only feel gratitude to live in a country that has offered me a safety net. Friends who are essential workers, those who have lost hours and the ones who haven’t been to work in months all say the same thing: “it’s a really hard time.”

The long-term effects of Coronavirus are not yet fully apparent, but it’s fairly bleak and I’m not the only one poaching in negative brain-soup.

Our current reality, much like a Hitchcock plot, has naturally spiked mental illness statistics. Talk of ‘flattening the curve’ not only applicable to cases of the virus but also the rise of poor mental health, with roughly 30 per cent of Australians currently experiencing moderate to high anxiety and depression.

The most worrying factor for all is what the future will hold. Thought job competitiveness and opportunity was bad before? What inevitably lays ahead is fewer openings and higher stakes during the limbo process of rebuilding.

Companies are struggling and recovery will take time. That influence on our careers and livelihoods is possibly the scariest part once the vaccine is developed and ‘Coronavirus’ is reduced to a moment in history.

As someone who is still trying to swim into my field instead of treading water, my future may look a lot different now to what it looked like at the start of the year. We haven’t got those answers yet, and until we do, my heart won’t stop beating at a hummingbird-pace and I won’t be able to flick the cigarettes just yet.

At least we have our sourdough, right?

If you are experiencing any negative thoughts, feelings of suicide or domestic violence, please contact the applicable crisis line:

LIfeline - 13 11 14
24 hour telephone counselling service.

Kids Help Line - 1800 55 18 00
Confidential and anonymous, telephone and online counselling service specifically for young people aged between 5 and 25.

beyondblue Support Service - 1300 22 46 36

Information and referral to relevant services for depression and anxiety related matters.

1800RESPECT- 1800 737 732
National sexual assault, domestic family violence counselling services 24-hour online support for workers and professionals.

Bianca Iovino writes for independent publications such as TEO Magazine and This Is Radelaide. Follow her on Instagram & LinkedIn.

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