My Lost Toddlerhood

Tales from Daler Cottage is about my children’s stories written between the ages of 9 and 16. The years would have been 1975 to 1982. During this time, I was completely unaware of a terrible truth about my life. I was living in Daler Cottage, the given name of my childhood home. My book, Tales from Daler Cottage . In April 1985, at the age of 19, I would start a novel called The Lessons . This novel was fuelled by a fantasy world that was burning me up inside. For the next thirty years, I would struggle with this novel, oblivious to this truth about myself. The story of The Lessons is covered in my other book. The Strange Power of Early Stories Prior to my novel-writing phase, I was writing mysteries, poems, drawing, painting and devising plays. I kept a diary between 1977 and 1988. I went to art school between 1981 and 1986, all during complete oblivion to my past. I would continue to write and paint for many years to come. My diaries illuminate the circumstances surrounding ...

This article is about my novel called The Lessons . Strictly speaking, it is not a novel at all, but something far more sinister. The dictionary lacks a word for what The Lessons actually is, but has provided a two-way mirror that hides a life behind my own reflection.   How The Lessons Began in My Teenage Years At the age of 19, I made the momentous decision to being this novel – on April 23 1985, to be precise. I know this because I kept a diary between 1977 and 1988. As soon as I began, an illness cut me down for a week. I thought nothing of it, determined I was going to begin this novel as soon as I felt better. Little did I realise how this novel would affect my life. Me during one of my writing episodes. A fantasy world burned me up inside. The Hidden Story Beneath The Lessons I kept my novel secret from family and friends. I feverishly read books on how-to write novels, sitting in my flat for hours on end, eking out a few sentences. During episodes, I wou...

In this article, I will explain a series of intense doll‑playing episodes from October 1978, recorded in my teenage diaries. My doll playing habits differed to other girls, no pram, no swaddling nor dressing up. Just bizarre storylines and bipolar characters. Only decades later did I understand my traumatised toddlerhood drove these stories. My Strange Doll Pantomimes of 1978 The following is taken from my research book, Tales from Daler Cottage .   Between 1978 and early 1981, I used to create stories with toys. My storylines were odd in that the star, a blonde doll did nothing but lie inert as t he other toys had active parts and chaotic behaviour. I now realize I had projected my younger self onto this doll. My conscious awareness was oblivious to the fact that an uncle had lived in the cottage with me throughout 1968 and that he brutalized me when I was 3. The reason for her inert state was that she was in fact unconscious. How I came to unearth this truth is covered in a s...

This article gives an overview of the doll pantomimes I created between 1978 and 1981. While a previous article explores one episode of my odd doll playing , this one looks at the broader pattern and the triggers I later uncovered through my diaries. Overview of my Strange Doll Pantomimes (1978–1981) The following is taken from my book, Mirror Image Shattered . Between the 1978 and 1981, I used to make up doll pantomimes. The stories behind them were odd due to the role I gave the star, a large doll with blonde hair. She did nothing but lay inert as the other toys took active parts with bipolar behaviour. I didn’t understand why she would lie like that, but almost four decades later, I would come to learn that trauma marked my toddlerhood by a half‑uncle who lived with us in 1968. I was three. Unconscious doll in my pantos Early 1978: The First Triggers Waxworks, first aid dummies and other such effigies would leave me depressed and unnerved for no apparent reason. I now know I had ...

Between 31 March 1978 and 25 January 1981, I created what I called “doll pantomimes.” I recorded them in my diaries, which I had begun in Christmas 1976 and continued until July 1988. Only in adulthood did I understand that these pantomimes were expressing my difficult and disturbed toddlerhood. The Characters of My Doll Stories My book, Mirror Image Shattered explains. The cast of my stories included a large doll with blue eyes and curly flaxen hair; a panda called Collywobbles, who was chatty and popular; Tatty Teddy Bear who was likeable and easy-going; Delia (also known as Big D) who was scheming and bossy; Cindy who was high-maintenance and fashionable and finally Humpty who was oafish and silly. (Other toys took part in minor roles). Reconstruction of my doll-playing. Sue is in fact comatose after being suffocated. Sue: The Unconscious Centre of the Story There would be no pantomime without Sue (the blonde doll). She was the star, but she had no lines. All she did was lay supin...

One cloudy day, I went to the village carnival with two school friends and I encountered my unconscious three-year-old self in the form of a first aid dummy in a tent. Encounter at the Village Carnival Of course, I didn’t realise this at the time. It was just a dummy lying on a table. A cheerful paramedic presided, urging us to have a go and learn how to perform the ‘kiss of life.’ All I can say is that the sight of that ashen, bald thing lying there ruined my day. Strong feelings of sex, possession and death swept over me but such words were not at my disposal at the time. The sight of that doll simply unnerved me. Dummies would spur intrusive thoughts (Necessary Evil Wiki Commons) My Friends’ Reactions versus My Own My two friends simply had a laugh as they had a go. I watched, squirming inside as one of them pressed her lips against that lifeless thing and the doll’s chest lurched upwards and make that spooky hush sound as the air escaped ‘it’. Her saliva dribbled over the doll...

My diary doesn’t report when I started my first ever period, but it does report when I started my second. This is because the pain was horrendous and lasted for 6 days in a row. It started on 2 May 1977 and ended on 7 May. I was 11. I had yet to learn these pains were not normal and that something in my past was causing them. My First Painful Period From these dates, I could work out when I had started my first ever period - the menarche, which would have been around 2 April 1977. As I recall it was a week before Easter. I lost a little blood but don’t recall much pain. I told Mum about it, worried there was something wrong with me. Mum got cagey, unsure of how to explain about the 'birds and the bees'. I would later learn everything I needed from biology lessons and library books. My second ever period was a rude awakening! What a whopper of a pain! I remember thinking, ‘Will I have to put up with this every month until I’m about 50?’ I thought it was ‘normal.’ I would suff...

I believed my childhood had been simple: a small cottage, my siblings, my parents, and the occasional visit from Nan. But the truth was far darker. A single moment would shatter everything I believed in and reveal a memory my mind had buried for almost fifty years. The following describes the moment my world collapsed as the truth about my toddlerhood emerges, reshaping my identity and understanding my past. The Moment My World Fell Apart But I hadn't had a cosseted childhood at all. In fact, the opposite. I suffered intrusive thoughts and a secret fantasy world fuelled by a childhood familiar which I called Aidan. I explained my odd experiences to growing up in a chaotic household with a mentally ill dad and depressive mum. Cramped living conditions and poverty created further challenges. I am ok with this and have come to terms with it. The Memory That Returned After 50 Years However, a series of events would reveal that my lifelong passion for novel-writing was in fact fuelle...

This excerpt shows how a fictional scene in one of my novels, mirrors a real event my brain had hidden from me. This reflective memoir of uncovering long‑buried childhood trauma, illustrates the moment the horrific memory surfaced. Understanding Dissociation Through Fiction I am now at my final novel, Nadia . I pause on spotting a broken bottle in a key scene. I continue gleaning, expecting to find further clues to the day my twin Eve had cut her face. Instead I find a character I had based upon my uncle. He is a narcissistic doctor that runs a care-home where Nancy, the main character used to work. This excerpt from my book Mirror Image Shattered shows how my fictional scene mirrors the real event my mind had hidden from me. In the key scene, the creepy doctor's voice enters Nancy's head as she tries to save the life of a choking occupant of the limo by puncturing a hole in his windpipe. The Moment the Memory Broke Through I wonder why I had put Uncle Dan there. He wasn’t pr...

A sudden emotional trigger in adulthood has unlocked long‑buried memories and accelerates my journey toward realisation. I am about to learn the horrible truth about my life. I have been gleaning my novels looking for clues about the day my twin had cut her face at the age of 4. I had dashed out of the cottage on seeing blood. It would appear that my novels are expressing traumas that I have stored in my subconscious. I discover recurrent elements within scenes: broken glass, disfigured faces, characters dashing to a hideout and terrible guilt. I am astounded at what I have found within my novels. A New Ugly Picture During the reading of my final novel, Nadia , I discover the inclusion of a character I had based on Uncle Dan. I wonder why I had put him there. He wasn't present during Eve's accident and he rarely visited the cottage. I assumed he had nothing to do with me, as I was only 3 when he stayed. And yet I seemed to know enough to use him in my novel.   The following...