Arriving at work on a beautiful sunny Monday morning to collect my register, following a beautiful 20 mile Sunday walk along the canal in the sun, I collapsed. No warnings, no feeling faint, no feeling unwell; just crash! Whatever was wrong? I had been bitten by a Horse Fly the previous day… was it infected? The first aider at work took my blood pressure, which was scarily low, and therefore escorted me to the local pharmacy. The pharmacist refused any help and directed me straight to the GP, where I was immediately signed off work for 1 month – exhaustion. Really? Exhaustion? But I felt fine… or so I had kept telling myself.
The truth was, I never felt fine. Bringing up 3 children: 2 with mental health and learning disabilities, working in prison education on a career path, and running the family home, I simply kidded myself that I could cope; I was FINE! Over the years I had had a few bouts of prolonged illness, usually depression, and I would brush myself off and carry on. Now, it seemed, my body was to be fooled no more. Life was tough, and so was I, but clearly not that tough.
The doctor had ordered me to rest saying I had Labrynthitus and exhaustion. Rest? How could I do that? Walking was the only thing that kept me sane, and there was no way my children with mental health and learning disabilities were going to understand this condition. Pressures at work were always present and not going to go away. So, I kept things going at work, remotely, and carried on running the home and caring for the children.
I got worse. I could no longer stand. Every muscle raged like a burning inferno, as if I had done a major workout for 10 hours or more; all of the time. I couldn’t sleep, and when I did I still woke up exhausted. Pills, pills and more pills from the Dr. More medical notes to sign me off work. Months went by. Finally, the day came when I reached rock bottom and collapsed in the Dr’s surgery. When he came to reception to help me I asked him to leave me. At this point I was physically and emotionally as low as I could go. He called an ambulance and I was admitted to hospital.
ME/CFS: the diagnoses was in. This was my fate. A one week stay in hospital. A minor op. And a life time of adjusting to this seemingly incurable illness. The doctors could do no more. Home I went to come to come to terms with what I had learned. An auto-immune disorder was to be with me for the rest of my days: or so I believed.
I Lost my senses: taste, smell, feel, hearing reduced, and on the day my daughter had to carry me the dozen steps to the toilet, as I was unable to walk there myself, I made my decision to seek out assisted suicide information: sitting in a chair and looking out at the world, being carried or pushed in a wheelchair, being unable to care for myself, was not a life I was willing to live. Not an easy discussion to have with a loving and supportive husband and step-father, and he agreed to work with me, to find a cure, and if one was not forthcoming in the next 12 months, we could revisit the discussion.
Pills..Chi-gong… meditation… yoga… pills… mindfulness… CBT… pills… nothing worked long term. Great initial responses and then the inevitable crash, sound familiar? Finally I came across the Lightning Process™, and signed up for the course. With no thought for how I would get there, or the financial cost, I simply knew it had to be worth a go … I sooo badly wanted to be well again. Nothing else mattered.

Day 1 I was helped into the training room and BOOM! I achieved change in day 1. I switched off the PER and regained the calm in my body almost instantly. The moment I heard the birds’ song, tasted the salty sea air, felt the fine grains of sand in my fingers and tasted the refreshing wine, I knew I was alive… and I have never looked back.

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