I have more than once in my time woken up feeling like death. But nothing prepared me for the early morning last June when I came to consciousness feeling as if I were actually shackled to my own corpse. The whole cave of my chest and thorax seemed to have been hollowed out and then refilled with slow-drying cement. I could faintly hear myself breathe but could not manage to inflate my lungs. My heart was beating either much too much or much too little. Any movement, however slight, required forethought and planning.

Travelling Europe with a friend, when I was 29. She was driving and the brakes went, on one of those vertiginous Italian mountains. It was terrifying for the 20 minutes it took to coast down the mountain.

We were doing a tour in Japan and as our plane landed, it rose again, out of the blue. About 10 years later there was this programme about 10 of the nearest misses, and it was my flight. There was another plane on the runway and we nearly landed on top of it. I didn’t know until 10 years later.

When I was 13, I was on a bicycle and got hit by a taxi in New York.

Giving people enjoyment.

I was in the musical Elvis, and after a costume change I went below stage to be raised up on a platform. As I was raised up, I blanked and couldn’t remember the first line of the song King Creole. I mumbled the first few lines and hoped nobody would notice.

I never dwell on them.

Bullying, whether face to face or online.

A world without music.

More green tea – I’m addicted.