In 2000, the writer had been living in London for just over a decade and working at EMI Records for five years. Having moved to Brixton from Surrey in the late 1980s, they noticed a growing sense of anxiety and claustrophobia, particularly on public transport.
The situation worsened, leading to a series of distressing panic attacks. Each episode felt like the world was closing in. In July 2003, during a daily commute between Brixton and the South Bank, a panic attack became so severe that the writer tried to climb out of the tube carriage doors. Other passengers held them back until the train reached the next platform, making it clear the issue could no longer be ignored.
In 2004, their GP referred them to a hypnotherapist. During regression sessions, the writer would sit on a chair, close their eyes, and mentally revisit different points in their life. After three months of exploring old memories, the therapist asked directly whether they had ever been involved in a train crash. The writer insisted they would remember such an event but agreed to ask their parents.
During a visit home the following weekend, the parents hesitated before revealing that the writer had, in fact, been in a train accident as a child.
On 4 September 1965, at four years old, the writer was returning from a trip to Ireland with their grandmother. After taking the ferry from Dublin to Holyhead, they boarded a train to London. While waiting to depart, another passenger train entered the platform and crashed into them. The impact threw the train backwards, lifting the carriage off its framework and trapping passengers inside. The writer and their grandmother were unharmed but were pressed together in the September heat amid rising panic and seriously injured passengers.
The parents explained that they had attempted to discuss the incident with their child, but the child would only scream and run away, so they stopped bringing it up.
The conversation brought clarity to more than a decade of fear and panic. It explained the difficulty with boarding trains, planes, and sometimes cars, as the brain had been subconsciously returning to the crash despite the absence of conscious memory. With the truth uncovered, the writer could work with their therapist to develop strategies to move past the fear.
Shortly after finishing hypnotherapy, in 2006, the writer attended a work trip to Vancouver. A team meeting was held at the top of Whistler Mountain, accessible only by a 30-minute cable car ride. Colleagues informed the cable car staff about the claustrophobia, and the staff offered the option to disembark at a halfway point. As the journey began, the writer felt unexpectedly calm. At the mid-point, venue staff came out to applaud them, and instead of getting off, the writer called their hypnotherapist to announce their location halfway up Whistler Mountain.
Overcoming the constant fear allowed the writer to live the life they wanted. This became especially significant after the birth of their daughter six years later. Now 14, they regularly travel across London by train or tube to attend packed shows together. Without that discovery, those shared moments might never have been possible.
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