Imagine starting your day with pain so crippling that the touch of your feet on the floor sends waves of pain through you. Before you even sit up, you know it’s going to be a hard day. The tiredness is already overwhelming, and yet you have just slept for ten hours. You know you need to stretch, but your mind is screaming at you not to. Every movement is an effort; the pain rides you in waves. It’s hard to think, it is like you are pushing your way through a fog that has wrapped around your mind and is holding your body. The touch of your clothes on your skin, painful. Taking a shower, like needles attacking your skin. The tiredness, hard to push through and no amount of sleep will ease the tiredness.

That is how my day started almost every morning for the past thirty plus years.

As a child I struggled with the day to day things. Sports carnivals would put me in bed for a couple of days. And, all I did was watch. At times it was hard to concentrate. I knew the information, I couldn’t find it, it was captured in the fog.

The doctors said it was growing pains. The aches and pains in my joints, nothing to worry about. It was something ‘I would grow out of.’

I began to isolate myself. It was easier that way. I didn’t have to make excuses as to why I didn’t want to do things, or be involved with others. I learned to wear a mask that covered the pain and the confusion, and make things easier for those around me. I stepped into a place of reluctant acceptance with no expectation of change.

Not only did I have the tiredness and pain to contend with, I saw and felt things that others didn’t. It took me some time to realise that not everyone else saw and felt what I did. I had an intuitive knowing about people. I would say things that were ‘inappropriate’ and I knew things about people that others did not.

In my teens, the pain increased. The tiredness was a constant friend, always close, always ready to embrace me. There were moments of relief, a day here, a week if I was lucky. The intuitive knowing increased. I ‘sensed’ things before they happened. I could ‘feel’ others physical pain. Their sadness or anger or joy became my sadness, anger or joy. It was overwhelming and confusing. So the need to remain isolated and disconnected was compelling

I studied theology, mysticism, religious texts, spiritualism, anything that might give me some idea of what was happening.

As an adult I become skilled in deception, wearing the mask, hiding the pain and tiredness in isolation. Work was a challenge. Mornings were the worst time. The effort to get out of bed, to shower, to dress and actually get to work was more than I could do at times. It was not easy to keep a job, to maintain friendships, or to do anything socially. After a day at work I would drag myself home, and head to bed, often not eating. The effort to make a meal was too much. The thought of what to make, just as challenging.

I went from doctor to doctor, looking for answers, for relief, for anything that would take the pain away. Xrays, blood tests and scans, from doctor to specialist, and back to again. A never ending cycle looking for answers. The diagnosis over the years ranged from psychosomatic to something related to rheumatics (‘but we have no idea what’). I recall having a test using electrical stimuli to gauge the neuro pathway responses; I couldn’t sit through the test. The pain was overwhelming. The doctor pushed up from the chair, glared at me, and told me to get out. That no one has that much pain for these simple tests, and, I should go see a psychiatrist.

So that’s what I did, psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists, pain management clinics. As well as trying acupuncture, deep tissue massage, Bowen Therapy, naturopathic remedies, herbs, oils, crystals, and any other doctor, clinician, therapist, and healer that offered something, anything, that would help. I had some relief. Weeks of being able to manage, at times these weeks extended to months. The pain was manageable, the tiredness not so debilitating, my ability to keep going through sheer will power allowed me to work and do what I needed to do.

After many years I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue. And yes this is still a diagnosis that is looked upon with some scepticism by some doctors. But to have a diagnosis was a relief. It helped eased the words that had been thrown at me over the years. But it did nothing to ease the physical pain or take away the tiredness.

I went from being employed to on sickness benefits, back to employment and on sickness benefits again. This was a cycle that went on for years. I thought running my own business, working for me, would be the answer. It changed nothing, but it did remove the need to make excuses, and not worry about turning up for work on time.

During all this people would come to me for relief from their own physical pain. I could sense their pain, see it in a way that is difficult to explain. And I was able to intuitively touch a ‘pressure point’, close and block my own pain and bring relief and healing. People would call when upset and needing comfort, or wanting direction or answers in their business or within their relationship.

This was confusing. I would often scream into the pillow, ‘why?’ Why could I do this for others and yet have no relief for me?

I learned to adapt, to accept, to make excuses, to avoid. It is easier than allowing the despair, the confusion, and the deep sadness to have a voice. To push down and push aside what I was feeling was the only way I believed I could keep going and to keep doing what I needed to do. Just pop the pills, manage the stress, suck up the pain, push through the tiredness and hope to make it through the day.

I nursed my partner through a terminal illness drawing on everything I had to get through each day. Praying, pleading, begging, screaming at God to do something.

Physically, emotionally and spiritually I was broken. I came to a point where I didn’t know if I had anything in me to keep going. It was in that broken place that I wrote The Weaving. And from that place things began to change. Hope, a tiny whisper of hope. The thought that maybe there was purpose, a reason for all the struggle. For the next two years, I began to feed that hope, to push again, to fight the pain and the tiredness.

I was working at a radio station doing some editing, on my ‘good days’. Yes, I was beginning to have some good days. I was editing Sandra J’s interview, and I had a fleeting thought that perhaps I should talk to her about the healing modality she was working in.

I made sure I was there the next week when she was coming in to record her show. My thought was to ‘check her out’, listen to her show and maybe talk to her about some treatment options. That didn’t happen. It was a couple of weeks later when after the show she came into my work space and said ‘I am going to treat you…now’.

Those words changed everything.

I reluctantly allowed her to drag me through the office. I could sense the energy, I could feel the shift physically and energetically, and I fought it and pushed back. At the time I didn’t know why.

During the treatment I knew something had changed, something had shifted, and I needed to let go and allow the healing to flow. For two days I suffered physically, and emotionally I was a mess. The third day I let go, and embraced it. From that moment I was pain free.

I was waking pain free. Not only was I pain free I wasn’t consumed with tiredness.

Within four weeks, I was totally pain free. Waking at five am, showering, dressing, and catching a bus at 6.30am to go to the radio station three days a week. Something I could not have done before.

Over the weeks I began to share with Sandra J what was happening and the physical and emotional changes I was experiencing.

We shared and explored our energetic experiences and our personal search for understanding, and what it meant to be in and on purpose in our lives. From the creative energetic space the understanding of the layers began to unfold. In understating that pain and trauma is held in the physical, emotion and intellect, things began to change for me at a deeper level. Part of the healing, the freeing the body from pain was also the releasing of the emotions that held pain and trauma. Understanding the energetic connection, and the pure essence of the inner self, added another dimension to the healing and the changes in thought, in the emotions and in the physical.

I am embracing the energetic connection and allowing the creative energetic expression to flow, and I continue to allow the healing to flow through the layers. Yes I get tired, a healthy happy tired. And I do feel pain, especially when I have overdone the time spent writing, but it is a pain that eases with rest and common sense, it is not chronic and debilitating.

It is from this experience, (and a life time of experiences), and our professional, business, and corporate knowledge and skills, flip180life was created.

We have written a book on the ‘layers’ , on what we have called the peiec approach, and now offer one-on-one sessions, workshops and seminars on how to apply this approach personally and professionally. We also offer visionary counselling, and energy healing.