I’ve always preferred the fantasies of escape. Like which patch of land I’d rather run away to, how I’d build a shelter that’s functional, safe, and hidden from humans, what kind of plants I’d forage or gather seeds from to grow in a forest garden. Sometimes I think of ways I might find and boil water without matches, or ways to defend the area from bears or defend the garden from deer. In reality, I don’t think I’d be able to keep it up long, but fantasizing about it is really pleasant. Sometimes it’s the only way I manage through hard times.