How do you build a new woman?

We can rebuild her, we have the technology >>>>>>>>>>

Yesterday was a "Why" moment. Today is about the "How".

If we take Einstein's definition of insanity, "to keep doing the same thing and expect a different result", then I've been insane for years. So has the whole human race.

On that basis, here's what I won't be doing any more:

1. Beating myself up for getting sick. Usually I blame myself when I have an MS relapse or a depressive episode, and usually this involves crediting any of the following heinous crimes:

• eating the "wrong" foods
• not getting enough exercise
• not sleeping 8 hours a night
   and mostly, these days ...
• getting too stressed about any of the following:
  my job - my marriage - my "To Do"  list - "unethical" shopping habits - the Middle East - the state of British politics and how little I'm doing about it - casual racism - dealing with call centres - regrets about not having children - regrets about past mistakes - regrets about things that were never my fault in the first place - feeling guilty about not being at work while my husband is working his butt off - feeling guilty about spending money when I'm not earning any myself - feeling guilty about everything ...
  

2. Getting a whole new plan in my head, being completely unrealistic about how much difference it will make in a very short time (usually about 3 days), and then getting so disheartened / self-critical that I end up ...

3. Eating rubbish or bingeing on TV box sets before quickly returning to Step 1.

So what will I be doing?

I know that there are lots of things I could do - and have done - to support the body-mind's build-in repair and maintenance systems. I also know that I need to do something new (like the physicist said). Or possibly something old, but in a new way. 

So I need to make room in my head for intuition. I have always followed what my rational mind told me to do, even to the point of over-riding my voice of my intuition. When I started this last job contract, my intuition was shouting at me, "No, not now, not this!", and I ignored it because I couldn't rationalise it. This is something I'm aware of doing over and over throughout my adult life. It's left me indecisive, stuck between what my intellect wanted and what my intuitive self was counselling.

So this time, just as an experiment, I'll listen to my intuition. Starting with - for no other reason than it feels like a good idea - a complete physical and mental cleanse. I've read memoirs of people who have used cleansing to open up more space in their lives, to clear out old mental and emotional habits, all the baggage that we carry from the past, our parents, our society. Apparently cleansing can clear out a lot of physical problems too. It includes cutting out poisons like TV, news, caffeine, pain pills etc and replacing them with music, oxygen, exercise, enemas, meditation and sleep. It won't mean a huge change in diet because I already "eat clean" anyway (more on this later). And even if it doesn't do any of these things I've read about, I can reasonably expect clearer skin and better sleep within a week or so. Might save a few quid on newspapers and coffees too.

Seems a long way from the arse-kicking bionic woman, but I'm happy to start small. 
That's another new thing: making small quiet changes instead of dramatic grand gestures.

Life begins at 39 and 11 months

You may have read astounding, inspiring life stories of people who have miraculously healed from terrifying illnesses, diseases that we think of as incurable and fatal, diseases that we fear so much that we use euphemisms to avoid saying their names. I certainly have, and I love these memoirs - they inspire me and I often turn to them when I need to remember that life is infinitely more unpredictable and mysterious than we tend to believe.

This is not one of those stories. I am not dying. The problem is, I'm not living either. Can you relate? I'm nearly 40, and I'm afraid of everything, except perhaps death itself. No, death is a rather friendly thought in my imagination, it represents the end of my grey existence. A final letting off the hook of the life I'm too scared to live. I do fear my deathbed though. I have no doubt that if I were dying today, the regret would be total, it would be suffocating.

And today - as I recover from my 5th attack of Multiple Sclerosis and as the steroids and midsummer Sun burn the faintest break in the thick cold cloud of the depression that has been my prison for over 2 decades - today, I begin to create a new me. A new everything. Because I don't want to be too afraid to live any more. I am making a promise to myself, a solemn vow right here on this Tuesday afternoon pavement table, surrounded by rucksacked tourists, street traders and baby buggies, to do whatever it takes to finally inhabit my own life. There are no sacred cows here. There is nothing I will not do, try or sacrifice if I believe it is required.

Those stories, the ones that end with the once terminally ill person dancing off into the sunset - happy, healthy, healed - they always seem to start from a life-and-death moment, don't they? They're in the hospice, with days to live. The tumours have spread to every organ system. The doctors are about to switch off the machines.

If I carry on for the next 20 years as I have for the last 20 - flash forward to 60 years old - that could be me. And maybe I too would have a miraculous recovery, write a book, and dance off into the sunset. I believe it's possible: I know that the body has an astounding ability to heal itself, given a chance. So why wait to get that sick? 

When would now be a good time to start?

For once, I'm making a proactive choice. I'm not going to wait till I'm dying to start living.