Escapology.. For kids

You wouldn’t know this but as a kid, I genuinely believed in my ability to fly.

Oh. You were the same?

Well, it was fabulous believing that flight wasn’t only possible, but, a calling. What nature intended. Wasn’t it?

One day I’d be planning my exit from the bedroom window. The next, using the shed roof as runway to get a higher trajectory. Such a rush!

One particularly bad day, I clearly set my mind on scaling the shed roof. At the prime age of 5 I’d had enough of the parents abusing one another/themselves/me physically and mentally. My time had come. I was going.

I packed the essentials.

Toys.

Hairbrush.

My coin purse stuffed with halfpence pieces.

And

I

Was

Off!

Well, if I could have climbed onto the shed roof I bloody well would have been. I had a flight plan and everything…

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The first time. I was 9

My memory is just awful these days. I mean really shocking. Honestly, I thought (and still do) perhaps that I had some signs of early onset dementia. Recall is something best left to my son. He has a mind like a steel trap – and I’m thankful for this (at times).

However, some recollections are just as strong as if the event has just happened. My first panic attack *shudders* is one such memory so vivid, I frequently revisit at the behest of this baffling brain. Continue reading