Land of Make Believe

Being human, what pain, what peril!

I can probably count on one and a half hands the times I’ve felt truly happy, at least as an adult, and they typically involve plants which were pretending to be dead, surprising me by coming back to life.

It’s all okay though because it’s my natural status quo to be quite miserable or quietly miserable. I enjoy smiling at people. I want to make them feel acknowledged in a warm way. I want to be approachable, friendly and helpful but inside I’m often sort of grey, claggy and full of negative worms.

I have a very happy memory of being seven years old and watching Top of the Pops with my dad who wasn’t really watching but had some sort of paperwork on his lap. Bucks Fizz were on and they were singing, The Land of Make Believe, they weren’t actually singing by the way, they were miming and performing a cringe inducing, one dimensional dance routine but I was transfixed.

There was something about the song, the way they looked and all those shiny people swaying in the crowd, looking up at them adoringly. Something about it really sucked me in, I was transfixed, it made me think that the future was going to be absolutely amazing. If this had been a party political broadcast and I had been old enough to vote, I would have run to the polling station in my pixie boots to vote for Bucks Fizz.

I didn’t really want my dad to notice how in awe I was and tried to turn away from him so he wouldn’t notice my excited little face. Instinctively I knew that he wouldn’t like them, he might fancy Jay Aston but he wouldn’t approve of the music. But the music made me feel inspired, positive butterflies fluttered inside my tummy and I couldn’t wait to grow and do that. I wasn’t really sure what that was exactly, miming on Top of the Pops? 

I hadn’t really thought it through but it felt like more of a movement than a pop group singing a song, it felt almost like a higher power, a religion. Together with my best friend, Diane, we joined a disco dancing class and we were really good. We were singled out to form a group of four and entered into a regional disco dancing competition and we won a trophy. The teacher told my mum that I was the best. I don’t know if she was telling the truth but I certainly enjoyed myself.

Our little dream was cut short when Sheila, our teacher, a glamorous woman in her fifties, told our mothers that she was pulling out of teaching children. Turned out, her husband, who she relied on for lifts, had an unhealthy interest in little girls. I had noticed him constantly coming into the hall while we were rehearsing but assumed, as kids do, that he had some important business being there.

There were other classes but they were too far away to walk to. My mum was unable to drive because of her epilepsy and Diane’s mum was a single mum with no money and no car so that was the end of my dancing. Being human, what pain, what peril!

It wasn’t the end of the world though, my dad had recently come home from work with a gerbil from his mate, Wilkie who bred them. He’d even thrown in a free cage. Midge, my new gerbil was a wonder to behold, a desert rodent who now inhabited our lean-to. She wasn’t really cuddly, more fascinating and she made me very happy for several months until she died. For a few days, my world ended. I couldn’t imagine how such a creature would die and I’d never see her again. I had to have a day off school, such was the depth of my grief. Being human, what pain, what peril!

I created a new happy space in my mind which centred around becoming a vet and caring for animals all day long. It was easy to imagine myself attending the local girls grammar school, excelling in my studies because I had been at school. I had my future planned out. At the eleven plus exam, I was fully aware of the importance of passing. In the examination hall, my mind turned against me, I imagined failure, I manifested it, I tripped my own wires, my concentration and I failed. ‘You’re not clever enough to be a vet,’ my mum said. Being human, what pain, what peril!

I knew two people at the huge comprehensive school, two friends, one died and the other was a lovable pain in the arse. I made lots of new friends but I wasn’t happy. There was something about the place; the teachers, with a couple of exceptions, were not really invested in imparting knowledge, I’m not even sure that they had much knowledge to impart. Some of the other kids were, in my opinion, verging on evil. I took to hanging around the streets drinking and doing no good. I survived, unscathed but uninspired. Being human, what pain, what peril!

I went crazy at college, studying a pointless subject. I drank a lot and I had some wonderful friends. I enjoyed being in the big city and despite being bored and unfulfilled in my studies, I saw a bright future. I began to imagine myself as an international business woman, making lots of money, dressed to kill, clinching deals and talking the talk. 

It turned out, I wasn’t particularly suited to being in an office. I did some temping jobs, the beginning of my exciting journey as a business woman but as it turned out, I was fidgety and uncomfortable. I was sort of flighty and had this constant unsettling energy flowing through me. My imagination was out of control and instead of just doing my job, I found myself making up stories about my colleagues, giving them new names and characters. It interfered with smooth dialogue, concentration and communication. They called me weird and my business dreams fell flat. Being human, what pain, what peril!

I took a financial risk in my early twenties and while doing a dull job in accounts, I got a mortgage and purchased a house. This was the best thing I ever did financially and I was very happy, doing it up, making it a home but at the same time, I felt like a failure. Most of my peers had degrees and I wanted one too so I signed up for one, in Horticulture. I was offered a place and for a short while, I was very happy. I handed my notice in at the accounts job. They said I was mad, turns out I was. Being human, what pain, what peril!

A few things happened now, to do with both my physical and psychological health which I won’t go into but they ripped apart my reality and pushed me headlong into an enduring desire to escape, to be, at least, partway into the land of make believe. I don’t mean singing or miming or dancing. I mean creating my own land of make believe inside my head.

I did well in my studies, achieving a 2:1 for what it's worth but the land of make believe kept calling me back. I wrote an entire novel while at university. It’s not very good. ‘What do you do with your time?’ asked one of my fellow students. Well our course was quite full on compared to many of today's degree courses and I was still doing a bit of office work too, mostly filing and boring stuff. Increasingly I wanted to escape into another world of my own creation. I didn’t go to any of the social events or extra talks. I’d given up drinking long ago and now, the land of make believe needed me.

Since then I’ve worked a lot in horticulture. I could work it around my young family and gardening does make me happy but the pay is still terrible. What a foolish choice for a degree. The economy feels off, strange, unpredictable, gloomy and increasingly skewed towards preposterous greed. Being human, what pain, what peril!

At least I have my love of plants and through writing, I have unlimited access to the land of make believe. I’ve since watched the 1982 recording of Bucks Fizz on Top of the Pops. The miming is appalling, Cheryl Baker, my idol at seven years old, is perhaps the worst, bless her, she doesn’t look that comfortable. It’s interesting to note that some band members have struggled financially since then, despite their fame. Being human, what pain, what peril!

Perhaps it was the song lyrics that somehow soaked into me. I’m not sure that they are sophisticated but they certainly etched themselves into my mind. I can’t quote them here for copyright reasons but there’s mention of something nasty in your garden, slightly bizarre but I was obsessed with gardens, even when I was seven. 

And then there’s the main theme of the song, a land of your own making. I can make myself believe in completely new lands and can escape into them whenever I feel like. It’s been proven to interfere with my capacity to be professional at work and I’ve even been called weird and spaced out several times by colleagues. 

The thing is that accessing the land of make believe has a higher value than the prospect of being a trophy winning dancer, an international business woman or even a normal person. It makes me more than just happy, it gives me resilience and allows me to survive this cruel and frankly unfathomable world as a flawed human. Being human, what pain, what peril!