The C Word

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Coronacoaster

Sorry, but who comes up with these monickers?

Who feels it appropriate to give a fun, kooky little title to actual shit show behaviour? Because whomever they are, they’re a genius.

Coronacoaster epitomises the rainbow of emotions I’ve experienced in the last few months. To be honest, I hadn’t even put it down to coronavirus, because it’s not so different from my usual. But it’s nice to have something else to blame.

As it turns out, however, my extreme behaviour has actually become a global phenomenon experienced by many. I find this to be simply fantastic. Some people have managed to break down their coronacoaster into weekly segments, for example:

  • Week 1: Stress eat

  • Week 2: Inexplicably purchase a years worth of toilet paper.

  • Week 3: Go on House Party

  • Week 4: House Party is shit so desperately try all dating apps.

  • Week 5: Do workouts by Instagram influencers

  • Week 6: Be fatter than at any point in recent memory

It goes on like this.

But I, Toni, well I’m not likely to be outdone when it comes to nonsensical behaviour. Keep your weeks, my coronacoaster is in singular minute shifts.

  • Minute 1: “OMG I love the quiet and no people around!”

  • Minute 2: “Which boyfriend should I yell at?”

  • Minute 3: “I need to go on apps and get a new boyfriend".”

  • Minute 4: “I’m going to prepare two lunches.”

  • Minute 5: “I’m totally fine.”

  • Minute 6: “How nice does this carpet feel on my face? And it really mops up the tears better than my bathroom.”

  • Minute 7: “I might kill my family.”

  • Minute 8: “Oh, but I live alone.”

It goes on…

It has been quite erratic, even for me. The one thing I can grasp onto is that I’ve never even stopped working (stop it, I know I’m a hero). Media never got shut down, so I was able to go into the office, which you might think would help keep me somewhat sane. But no, it actually made it worse because I could witness with my own eyes how fucked up the world has become. I loved nobody being around, my train commute was VIP AF. But then it became eerie, then it just became the norm, then it became lonely and terrifying.

The highest point of the coronacoaster, you know that point just before the big crescendo that drops you whilst upside down, happened early. Two weeks before we were told to stay the fuck inside, I knew it was coming. My housemates had all left and those two weeks saw actual panic. I began my own panic weeks before it was required, and I really embraced it. I went crazy to some dude I had been seeing (this is a whole other story). I stressed texted my mad ex and we reconciled. I ate everything I could see, all washed down with lashings of red wine. I wore only leggings but bigger sizes. They took weeks to come and didn’t fit by the time they had arrived. I ordered larger ones. I didn’t brush my hair, because I didn’t need to. My makeup began to gather a light filming of dust. I was manic. I was making mistakes at work. Ones I’d never made before. It would make me cry and cry and cry and panic text humans.

Luckily, nobody was really shocked by my behaviour. I’ve always been dramatic and extra AF, so it wasn’t too shocking for people that I was rapidly spiralling out of control. In fact, a quick bit of market research told me people’s perception was that I was ‘excelling in chaos’. I suppose I kind of was…Maybe it seemed odd for the train man who experienced my stress crying RIGHT IN HIS FACE because he showed no social etiquette or distancing. But nobody else seemed too perplexed. I saved the crazy for really close personal friends and family. And some of the boys.

I began to calm down a week into lockdown, but still embraced my new diet and wardrobe. This was when I got to witness everyone else behaving like me. +44’s coming out of nowhere asking if I’d like to break lockdown. I did not. Mad inboxes from strangers on Instagram desperate for some human interaction. And my favourite was a guy at work who has never read a book in his life starting a book club full of titles, none of which he could actually pronounce. It never took off.

I’m now 6 lbs heavier but have started brushing my hair, I’m starting to wear dresses just because my legs are deceptively skinny. I’ve not dusted off my makeup yet, but I’m calming down on the eating and trying to sort my skin out. I might start doing some Instagram influencers workouts soon (just kidding). I’m trying to get off the rollercoaster, but for now I’m still fully strapped in and people are still yelling at me to “keep your hands in”. If you’re strapping me in and telling me to sit tight, I’m not the sort of girl who can also keep my arms down. So let’s see how it goes…

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