There's only one person you can count on.

At times of crisis people usually cling to nostalgia. It gives them memories of happier times, of the knowledge that the balance might be restored and everything will go on as before. 

This week I have been put through the wringer with stress, but instead of becoming overly sentimental I have done the opposite; I have purged. 

I have reduced my life to the one thing I can rely on: me alone.

Marie Kondo would be proud. Of my 300+ emails, around 280 of them apparently didn't spark joy, mostly because they were thankless tasks I had to deal with on behalf of other people. The others were subscriptions to newsletters trying to sell me something. They've gone. 

What were the 35,000 photos I had in my files? It turns out that about two thirds of those were redundant. Often taken because I thought they might give someone else pleasure and now they are sitting taking up hard drive space, unappreciated and probably never even looked at. They've gone. And when I have renewed energy I will probably delete even more. My memories are there though and that's what counts.

My social media? Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, WhatsApp, Messenger, Words with Friends...? All gone. Of course they don't make it that easy to remove, so they are probably in the ether somewhere. I didn't bother giving great proclamations of why I'm doing it before I exited because I don't want the discussions. I just want out. 

Because when things get sticky one thing becomes apparent above all else and that is that people are selfish. They are primarily concerned with how their lives alone are affected. They see themselves as the pebble in the pond and don't look back to watch the ripples radiate. 

In a world like that, the only way to survive is to become just like them. And so I'm pulling down the shutters on my emotions, zipping up my need to communicate constantly and just living from minute to minute rather than in the past or the future.

14 things most people don't know about me.

I have constantly recurring dreams (at least once or twice a week for decades now) all to do with flying – missing a flight, forgetting to pack, being in a plane crash, in strange airline seats etc. It’s exhausting.

 I used to be a tech-head: I can write html and I am A+ Certified – that means I’m qualified to fix personal computers. It's why I use a Mac.

I was written about in The Lancet by a speech therapist because the roof of my mouth almost doesn’t join (I was close to having a cleft palate) and I had a subsequent speech impediment. They’re now all wishing they’d never taught me to speak.

I never grew underarm hair.

I spent more than forty years thinking that the London cab in the Free Parking spot on a Monopoly board was actually an old fashioned telephone. It didn’t even occur to me to wonder why it was there.

After my father died four years ago I discovered that the surname I had grown up with wasn’t actually our legal surname.

I have an illogical fear of speaking on the phone and have had hypnotherapy and psychotherapy for it over the years, to no avail.

When I met my [future] husband we didn’t like each other. But I spontaneously kissed him to make my ex jealous. And that’s where it all started…

I do a secret thing for luck before I get on any plane. It’s my only superstition and I’ve done it for 40 or so years.

I have a reaction to the sulphites in white wine and champagne and I will vomit even after one glass. Unless it’s VERY expensive (in which case I’ll duct-tape my mouth!).

I spent 3 days in a psychiatric hospital last year by accident. I thought it was going to be a bit of a spa. Admittedly, I wondered why I was able to claim it on Medicare.

I once danced on stage with Bob Geldof then went back to his hotel on the tour bus with the band. They harmonized ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’ and I was very disappointed at the state of what they were calling 'punk'.

I was engaged for a night to an MP (military police) when I was 16. I met him when he spotted me dancing on stage with Bob Geldof. I used him to get the phone number for the first guy I ever asked out on a date (you know who you are!).

I still have my ears double pierced because my mum thinks it makes me look like a slut and that amuses me.

Happy Talk

Think of someone who you really enjoy being with. Can you put your finger on what it is that makes them such good company? Over the years I've examined this question and concluded that the quote attributed to the Greek philosopher Epictetus, "We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak," is incredibly wise.

I've developed my own five rules which are easy to remember by the acronym TALKS:

TAKE TURNS - Remember what your mother told you about friends taking turns when you were little? The same thing applies to conversation. If you do all the talking you are merely a speech-giver. No matter how much your friend appears interested in your life, take time to ask about theirs. Even the viral video hit of the twins talking gibberish to each other showed them taking turns.

ATTEND - Don’t spend all the time your friend is talking planning what you are going to say next. Be present to what they are saying. Acknowledge them with the right noises but don’t interject. If you’ve ever chatted to someone whose mind is elsewhere while you’re talking, you’ll know how offensive it can be. Plus, it shouldn’t have to be said, but do put your phone out of sight and definitely out of reach.

LEARN - This is especially important when talking to someone younger than yourself. Asking questions and using phrases like, “I didn’t know that,” and “How interesting,” make your companion feel valued. On the other hand, don’t assume that he or she is going to indulge you in the same way. Being constantly ‘taught’ in a conversation can feel like being lectured.

KEEP QUIET - When someone tells you something, don’t immediately bring it back to your own experience, no matter how tempting it is (and above all, don’t try to top their story!). They didn’t say it just as an opener for your own drama. Sometimes the best response is a neutral one, such as, “Gosh, that must have been quite a stressful day for you.” or even, “How funny, what a great story.” If you feel you absolutely must go on to tell your own tale, at least leave a minute’s pause or so before adding, “That reminds me...”

SINCERITY - Even if you’re sure you could win an Oscar for your performance, your companion will be able to spot insincerity a mile off. If you believe you have to put on a front to have the conversation, you have two choices: Either keep throwing the ball back into their court with questions that require them to do most of the talking, or keep it short and simple and move on to spending time with someone whose company you feel relaxed and comfortable in.