Sunday Times columnist India Knight today describes her fear of being confined in closed windowless spaces and small lifts, how she suffers from claustrophobia.

I would like to reassure her that there literally is a light at the end of the dark tunnel, and she may like to follow some of the coping strategies I devised to overcome my similar fear which suddenly began out of the blue about four years ago.

I believe it began during a Halloween night when I joined my husband, our two teenage boys, and one of their friends for a Scaresville spooky experience at Kentwell Hall, a beautiful stately home in Suffolk. As you can imagine, it involved a night of fright and fear, mostly in dark outer buildings, some of them pitch black, and most of them without windows.

We had no idea what spooky sensation awaited us as we ventured into one dark room after another. I unwittingly followed my men into a barn which had been partitioned into small cupboard size spaces, with barely enough room for all five of us to stand up. It was pitch black and the challenge was to press on the walls around us and find a way out. Only we couldn’t find it. We pressed the walls high and low and in all the corners – and I then felt the panic gripping me, my heart racing, my breathing became erratic, my mouth was dry, and I believed we were trapped and would never escape.

At the beginning of the evening, we had been told we could call out for help if we needed it. I called out, but nobody came. My younger son James – the most sensible out of the lot – told me to calm down and breath slowly, offering words of reassurance. I think I was on my knees then, and I remember fumbling in my bag to suck on a Polo mint.

I have no idea how long we were trapped, it seemed an eternity, until James suddenly located our escape route, and the outside dark and starless night seemed bright and embracing compared to our entombed compartment.

I thought no more of it, until the following summer, while travelling on a particularly crowded and airless underground train in London, when even the doors would not shut because the carriages were so overcrowded, and the same feeling of claustrophobia overwhelmed me. I was with my husband and we were en route to the V & A Museum for an exhibition. I fled out of the station in desperate search of fresh air and he followed me in exasperation, particularly as I insisted we take a taxi.

These feelings returned later when I travelled on the underground, particularly the double deep stations, and I have successfully developed strategies to conquer these fears.  I make sure I have water to drink as I am often thirsty during these experiences, I suck on Polos (peppermint can help reduce stress and anxiety) and I play music on my iPod as a huge and important distraction. I also head for the furthest carriages on the underground which tends to be less crowded. I told myself firmly that I could not continue running out of underground trains, that they were essential for travelling around London, and I would have to learn how to deal with it.

I also dreaded those lifts at underground stations, but my coping strategies have helped me manage those situations too.

India, if you read this, I hope my tips help you too.