These are just some of the symptoms two thirds of Australians have reported as a result of the coronavirus crisis. And, for many thousands of us, these emotions can go far beyond being "down" or "blue".

While the crisis is universal, it is something people react to in very different ways. With the whole nation staying at home, socialising a thing of the past, no clubs, pubs or restaurants, and not even the chance of a visit to the gym or a beautician to lift people's spirits, reports of "cabin fever" are common place.

This, like most such "catch-all" phrases, is a euphemism that covers a multitude of meanings and can have the unfortunate effect of normalising emotional states that should be identified early and acted upon.

It's little wonder so many people were hanging out for information on easing of restrictions on Friday. This last few months have not been easy. Many Canberrans were already struggling with mental health pressures arising from the drought, the bushfires, the smoke, and the hailstorm, when the latest existential threat emerged.

Hundreds of thousands of Australians have been thrown out of work by the decision to shut down large chunks of the economy to save lives by stopping the spread of the virus.

While everybody can take pride in the success of these measures, that doesn't mean the fear and the uncertainty has gone away. The trauma caused by the economic upheaval is, if anything, greater than that caused by the fear of the virus.

Nobody can say for sure how long this will go on, when the Australian and the global economies will recover, and whether or not all those suddenly thrown out of work will ever get their jobs back.

All of this is traumatic. A mortgage nowadays is virtually for life; not just for the six months of JobKeeper. How long will the moratorium on evictions stay in place?

There are literally millions of Australians who have no idea whether or not they will be back at work, or even able to afford the home they are in, eight months from now.

It comes as no surprise, therefore, that when the ANU Centre for Social Research and Methods conducted a study of the "social, mental, economic and political impacts of the pandemic" researchers uncovered high levels of "hardship and distress".

The one positive was they also discovered a high level of community resilience as well.

Two thirds of the 3200 people surveyed said they were anxious; and that they worried about their own safety and that of their family and friends. The highest levels of concern were in the 18 to 24-year-old age.

Overall life satisfaction has declined sharply, dropping from 6.9 out of 10 to 6.5 out of 10 since January. That is the same level of change as somebody who has moved from 80th percentile to the 33rd percentile on income distribution.

While the surge in social cohesion, altruism and compassion has partly compensated for this, it won't stave off an anticipated surge in mental health crises.

Preliminary modelling by the Brain and Mind Centre suggests an additional 750 Australians could take their own lives in the 12 months since the pandemic began. That is far more than the number of lives that have been lost to the coronavirus itself.

The National Mental Health Commission was asked to devise a pandemic plan which would model the impacts of the virus on mental health some time ago. That plan was to be presented to the National Cabinet on Friday.

We all hope it will provide a road map to safety for some of Australia's most depressed, isolated, and vulnerable individuals in the weeks and months to come.