Brand new worries
Recently I watched something on TV about a war-torn nation and the daily atrocities in one particular bombed-out, decimated city. My heart went out to the citizens, but the truth is I didn’t really break a sweat until what was supposed to be the uplifting part of the programme. That was when they showed the reporter in an underground series of poky little tunnels where people had fashioned dining tables and cosy candlelit bedrooms – an ingenious means of survival, but my idea of hell. I’m kind of a claustrophobic. A late life one. My first freak-out happened at age 40 when I started dreaming that I was trapped in boats underwater (in the Hong Kong harbour if you’re into hearing the details of people’s dreams, which no one is) or in tight little stairwells in medieval castles.
The late onset of this seemed strange, but apparently developing brand new phobias is just one more awesome thing that can happen in your 40s and beyond. For Adam Dudding, it was heights.
You can read about that on page 14.