a road to nowhere

Thelma, 24, has a borderline bi-polar disorder. She swings from manic optimism to deep depression for varied lengths of time and enjoys being the way she is.

"I refuse to accept that I am mentally ill or disabled in any way," says Thelma. "I don't take any medication - I don't need it and I won't take it - and as far as I can see it is a problem that other people have with me rather than a problem I have myself."

"Okay, I can't hold down a job for long and I haven't had a relationship that lasted more than three months," confesses Thelma, "but does that make me much different from most other young people?"

"Most jobs don't last more than three months," laughs Thelma, "and most guys are not worth knowing for more than three months, right?"

"I'm an only child and I live at home with my parents," explains Thelma. "They are very old fashioned and call me unruly but I am just a normal high spirited girl who gets into trouble every now and again. What's wrong with that?"

"When I'm on a high I feel great," laughs Thelma, "and it makes up for all the times I am down."

"My mother keeps telling me 'don't spill the milk and you won't end up crying', " explains Thelma, "and excusing the mixed metaphors this loosely means that I shouldn't play with fire if I don't know how to handle it."

"I never know if I can handle a situation until I am in it," says Thelma, "so warning me not to do things is wasted breath."

"I want to experience as much of life as I can and the only time I can experience life is when I'm on a high."

"When I'm on a downer it's an effort just to get out of bed in the morning," explains Thelma. "And when you live with constant highs and lows like I do you need to flow with it and make the most of the good times."

Thelma's most common troubles are in the relationship department but her most recent 'high' took her in a new direction.

She came out of a low and suddenly decided to take to the road and tour the country.

"No it wasn't a Thelma and Louise thing," laughs Thelma. "I went alone."

"For three weeks it was glorious - just the road and me," says Thelma. "I hardly ever slept - I just kept on going and going and getting further and further off the beaten track."

"I didn't take a phone or much food or clothes with me," says Thelma. "I trusted that the universe would take care of me - and it did."

"In the middle of nowhere I came down with a low," says Thelma. "I went into panic mode. I was frozen with fear. I wanted to get back to my bed. I wanted to hide."

"Luckily a passing motorist found me before I sunk too far and I got dropped off at the closest airport."

"My parents were angry because they had to foot the bill for my air fare and getting my car back home," laughs Thelma. "But I will pay them back one day when I get a job."

"It was a great trip and I am glad I did it," says Thelma. "Most people live their whole lives and never do anything interesting and if living an interesting life means to some people that I am mentally ill then they can think what they like."

"Look at all the great movers and shakers in our history - and in the world today," says Thelma. "They are more like me than you!"

fear of foreign doctors

After several bad encounters with foreign doctors Arleen has developed a fear of being treated by any medical professional who is not fully conversant with the English language and western customs, particularly in relation to women.

"All of the old doctors who once served this area have retired or died," explains Arleen, "and all of their places have been taken almost exclusively by immigrant doctors from India, Pakistan, China and Iraq whose cultural background, particularly in relation to women, is so different from ours."

"Why is there such a dearth of home-grown doctors?" asks Arleen. "Don't our young people want to enter the medical profession any more? What are they doing instead? Or could it be that they cannot compete for fee-paying university places with the sons and daughters of rich foreigners?"

"It's not so much a matter of language -- though sometimes it most certainly is, and you wonder about a communication problem having terrible repercussions," says Arleen. "It's a matter of being in an intimate situation with a man whose culture forbids such intimacy with a woman."

"And, these days, with terror organizations recruiting from universities, it's a matter of being in a life and death situation with a man – or woman – whose culture denigrates my own."

"I suppose a home-grown doctor can similarly think we are 'disgusting' when he is faced with a surgery full of people who are either grossly obese, alcoholic, riddled with venereal diseases or whatever," sighs Arleen, "but it's a totally different experience when this 'disgust' is expressed by someone from a different country."

"And, while it shouldn't matter who treats you in an emergency – when you're bleeding to death or something," adds Arlene, "it most certainly does matter if the treating doctor is from a country you are at war with or is a member of a religion which gives brownie points for each infidel wiped off the face of the earth."

Read more by Arleen on this issue:

immigrant plumbers and doctors

Polish plumbers make great neighbours!

foreign doctors and female patients

nature knows best

Martha is 54, raising two children under ten, and considers herself blessed that she had children later rather than earlier in life. She wants to assure all women in their forties who've received dire warnings from their doctors against pregnancy at such an old age that they have nothing to fear.

"Nature knows what she is doing as far as female health matters are concerned and old eggs don't necessarily mean damaged eggs."

"I was 45 when I had my first son and 47 when I had the second one," says Martha, "and I never even noticed when I turned 50 - I was far too busy!"

Martha's husband, Bob, is 64 so there is quite a generation gap in their household.

"The age difference between my husband and I - and the children - means nothing," asserts Martha.

"Bob and I look years younger than our chronological ages and we're the happiest little family you could ever meet."

"I honestly believe that having children later in life is the way to go," confides Martha.

"Up until I was 44 and married Bob I had a glorious life as a single woman," says Martha.

"I did everything I ever wanted to do and when I looked around and discovered that I had achieved all I had set out to achieve it was time to think about settling down and having children."

"At 54, Bob had lead a similar action packed single life and was ready to settle down, too."

"Sure," says Martha, "I took the risk that we couldn't have children - that I'd left it too late - but we would have resorted to medical intervention to get our kids if that had been the case."

"It obviously wasn't the case," laughs Martha. "I had no trouble having my two boys and because I could afford to hire a nanny and a housekeeper to help me over the early years I didn't get frazzled."

"When you have children later in life you're going to be a lot better off financially than you were at 20," says Martha. "and that's another good reason to delay motherhood."

"I couldn't have done it in poverty - at 20 or 45!"

"The best thing about late motherhood is that I look and feel ten years younger," beams Martha. "Having babies gave me a natural hormone boost."

"There's nothing like young kids to keep you on your toes and I haven't had time to think about all the things that women my age think about."

"My time is fully occupied and I am focusing on the boys rather than myself."

"I'll probably be frazzled in my sixties," laughs Martha, "but right now I am enjoying my fifties to the full thanks to my boys."

"I think the worst possible age for women to have babies is when they are in their thirties," says Martha.

"By the time these women are in their fifties their children have left home and they are at risk of becoming far too introspective for their own good."

"Women who have children in their twenties are still young by the time the kids leave home."

"They can get out there and set the world on fire - do all the things they didn't have time to do before - even start a second family if they want to!"

"A fifties woman in an empty nest - with or without a husband," says Martha, "is at risk of depression because to the world at large her life is over."

"She is too old to start a career and too old to start a family."

"In their fifties, empty-nest mothers have not much to look forward to besides the old aged pension and the old folks home," says Martha.

"That would have been my fate had I got married in my thirties and started a family."

"At 44 when I got married I was at my physical peak," says Martha. "I looked fantastic and my body was like that of a young woman."

"You're not old in your forties but you are old in your fifties if you don't have a young family to keep you alive."

"And I don't mean grandchildren - I mean your own children!"

"Some may call me selfish and say my boys will grow up to hate their old parents," adds Martha, "but that fate awaits most parents whatever their age."

"What kid ever thinks his or her parents are young?"

Martha's story first appeared as late life motherhood

cosmetic surgery doesn't cure invisibility

Farah is a beautiful woman of 54 who never married or had kids, preferring instead a life of serial relationships. She had enjoyed admiring glances all of her life until she reached the age of 49 and realized that very few people -- especially men -- were looking at her.

"I'd walk down the street or enter a crowded room and heads no longer turned," confides Farah. "And this wasn't just the men. Even women stopped looking at me with their usual envious glances."

Farah took a long look at herself in a full-length mirror and saw nothing significantly different. What had happened? Why had she become invisible?

"Becoming ‘invisible’ is a phenomenon that a lot of menopausal women talk about," says Farah. "They think that they don’t look any different, but they do. People don’t look at old women."

"Apparently, we are all hardwired to look at youthful beauty," says Farah. "A woman can still be beautiful in her 90s, but it is youth that nature favors and it is youth that attracts the eyes of passers by and the attention of male suitors."

"At 50, a woman really needs to say goodbye to youth and dating and say hello to maturity and a solid relationship," says Farah, "but I wasn’t ready to give up the ghost yet. It was time to consult with a cosmetic surgeon."

"The only part of my body that I felt needed enhancement was my breasts," says Farah. "Okay, I know it seems odd that I thought a breast enhancement would cause heads to turn once again, but that was the way my menopausal brain worked and I went ahead and had the operation."

Farah is now a 54 year old woman with the breasts of an 18 year old girl.

She couldn’t wait to proudly flaunt her new bosom to the world. She bought some low cut tops and entered as many rooms and walked down as many streets as she could. The result?

"Well, yes," admits Farah, "I am definitely getting looks, but they are not the type of looks I previously received. The looks are a mixture of pity and disbelief rather than admiration."

After realizing that she had made a fool of herself, Farah gave away the low cut tops and resumed her normal life.

She still admires her new breasts and never regrets having the operation done, but she doesn’t flaunt them any more. They make her feel good about herself, and that, according to her cosmetic surgeon, is the best reason for any woman to go under the knife.

"If it’s going to make you feel good," Farah advises, "just do it!"

Like a lot of fifties women, Farah has now adapted to being invisible. She doesn’t have to worry so much about being impeccably made up, coiffed and dressed to the nines every time she goes out. She’s learning to relax and just be herself and maybe in time a nice old gentleman will take her fancy.

Unfortunately, though, Farah recently discovered to her horror that her before and after pictures had been posted on the Internet by the cosmetic surgeon -- without her permission.

"From invisibility, I've gone to global visibility," laughs Farah. "My face isn't shown, thank God - just my breasts - and while I don't mind my new breasts being displayed to the world, I'd rather my old ones weren't!"

Farah's story first appeared as the invisible woman

menopause isn't a disease!

Judy has been a stay at home mom since her first child was born twenty-five years ago. Right now she's experiencing the menopause and feeling very annoyed that her children walk around on eggshells expecting all manner of dreadful things to happen to her.

"They've heard all about the menopause from television and magazines," explains Judy, "and they've swallowed far too much nonsense for my liking."

"Nobody in their right mind can deny that menopause severely affects some women, but most fifty plus women sail through it with the only really noticeable symptom - and a blessed one - being cessation of periods."

"That a natural passage of life - like the start of periods in our early teens - should be blown up into a disease warranting a multi-million dollar medical and pharmaceutical industry to cater for it is something that defies logic," says Judy. "And worse still is that the menopause scam is causing real diseases to be misdiagnosed in middle aged women."

When she was 41, Judy contracted meningitis but it took four doctors to get a correct diagnosis. While she was doing the rounds getting these opinions, Judy nearly lost her life.

The first three doctors Judy saw told her that headaches are a common symptom of commencement of menopause, and that she should take some painkillers and relax a bit more. And, if the headaches persist, to consider HRT to regulate her hormone levels.

"When an 11 year old girl goes to see a doctor complaining about headaches," says Judy, "it would be a very stupid doctor who would attribute her headaches to early commencement of menstruation and send her home with painkillers, telling her to relax a bit more and, if the headaches persist, to consider taking hormones to make her feel better. Right?"

Judy is understandably furious that women in their forties and fifties are treated by some doctors as if all of their ills are due to menopause, and all their pains can be resolved by HRT.

"It is grossly negligent, and grossly unfair," complains Judy.

"I feel that women over forty have probably got a bad rap because so many women in this age group do have enormous life burdens and maybe their doctor is the only person who will listen to them."

"I have a sneaky suspicion that doctors are taught at medical school that women over forty are sexually frustrated old women who just need a shot of HRT to restore their sex drive and then they’re okay!" laughs Judy.

"I was thrilled to pieces when menopause stopped my periods, and caused my sex drive to drop to zilch," says Judy. "My husband’s sex drive had dropped to zilch years ago and now we're equal."

"There’s nothing worse," laughs Judy, "than being in a marriage where one party has a higher sex drive than the other. And when a woman has a higher sex drive than her partner it’s a real problem for the marriage unless she can find an accommodating man, or feels okay about masturbation."

Judy’s marital satisfaction - and that of her husband - has increased tenfold since her menopause. She is enjoying being affectionate with her husband without either party wanting penetration or earth-moving climaxes.

"And this," says Judy, "is just as well because with adult children at home I would feel uncomfortable with them hearing us making mad passionate love in the bedroom! It’s OK when the kids are young, but there does come a time when you’re aware that your children know what’s going on!"

"Actually it's no coincidence that libido drops in both men and women when children are in that curious pre-teen period," laughs Judy. "None of my kids are showing any signs of leaving so I'll just have to get used to having them prying into my private life - talking about menopausal symptoms that I just don't have!"

"Being a fifties woman," says Judy, "is really not so bad, but I remain upset about the medical profession’s warped view of menopause. I fear that any sickness I’m likely to get from now onwards is going to be attributed to menopause rather than to another cause."

Judy wants all women to accept menopause as a natural and beautiful part of life - giving as much as it takes away - and she wants all doctors to treat fifties women as normal human beings, with normal complaints, until such time as it becomes manifestly clear that a particular woman needs HRT or just someone to talk to.

Judy's story first appeared as the menopause scam? and is reprinted with permission.

creepy crawly itching

Everyone’s heard about the seven-year itch, but the fifty-year itch is something new for Sylvie, a married empty nester.

Sylvie says that the only real problem with being 50 is the itch that somehow came with the age. It is most noticeable at night - when her whole body crawls with itchy sensations and begs to be scratched - but she also has an itch during the day, too.

"It happens in no particular part of my body," explains Sylvie, "and it doesn’t seem to be related to changes in temperature either. It's very weird."

At first Sylvie thought it was an allergic reaction to something she had eaten or touched, and she went through a laborious process of monitoring her diet and how she washed her clothing before concluding that the itch was not related to these things.

She then imagined that the creatures that lived in symbiosis with us – in or on our bodies – had increased in population for some reason, and needed to be drastically culled.

Sylvie achieved this strange task by scrubbing her body twice a day, and drinking twice as much water to flush out the creatures.

The itch continued.

Sylvie is not the sort of woman who visits a doctor at the slightest change to her health, and she had sailed through menopause without much trouble, so she really did not want the embarrassment of asking a doctor about what this itch was and how to get rid of it.

"What if the doctor didn’t know of such things and thought me a silly old woman?" asks Sylvie.

She finally accepted that the itch must be a symptom of menopause that she just has to live with. And she does, with as much grace as she can.

In her book 'You Can Heal Your Life', Louise Hay describes the real cause of itching (pruritis) as being desires that go against the grain. Unsatisfied. Remorse. Itching to get out or get away.

Sylvie was surprised to read what Louise Hay had to say about itching – it made sense.

"I have been a housewife for most of my adult life," says Sylvie, "and since my children left home a few years ago I have been 'itching' to do something exciting with my life but my husband is a stick in the mud type. He doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t even want to change the children’s bedrooms. He wants everything to go on as before."

It is likely that Sylvie will continue to have a fifty-year itch until she makes a decision to do something exciting with her life, with or without her husband’s permission.

"If the itch is related to unsatisfied desires as Louise Hay indicates," muses Sylvie, "then it's worth buying the book and showing it to my husband."

"This itch of mine is driving him mad as well," laughs Sylvie, "so he may be willing to let me do something exciting in order to see whether it gets rid of the itch."

"I know I shouldn't have to ask his permission," adds Sylvie, "but that's how our marriage works. He's the boss and I'm the little woman. I like things that way."

(Sylvie's story first appeared as the fifty-year itch and is reprinted with permission.)

a menopausal hump

Bridie's husband walked out on her and the kids when she started having menopausal symptoms and although she was glad to get rid of him she is now realizing that running a business on top of being a menopausal mom is a hump she is going to have to bear for some time.

"He was a sex addict and I just wasn't interested in being his sex-toy any more," says Bridie. "I don't know whether menopause had anything to do with it – it probably did – but I was just too busy with my secretarial business and too tired at the end of the day what with the kids and everything else to bother about sex any more."

"He called me a cold fish -- and other delightful epithets," laughs Bridie, "but I think his problem was that he was jealous of my success."

"Most of the time, now, I just wish I could throw it all in and get a regular job," sighs

Bridie. "I don't know whether it is my hormones egging me on or my intuition, but whatever it is I have very strong feelings about being unable to cope."

"By the time I get the kids off to school and come home I am ready for a nap, not work," says Bridie. "And the time between then and when I pick the kids up from school is so short that I barely get anything done."

"It's absolutely abominable during the school vacation periods," says Bridie. "I am literally tearing my hair out and suffering hot flashes like you'd never believe."

"I’ve thought about HRT," says Bridie, "but I don't want to deal with all the risks that go with it."

"Most of my work I do at night -- when the kids are in their rooms, the cooking and washing up has been done and all is peaceful," says Bridie. "Sometimes I am up until 3am typing up reports and stuff for clients, and with every keystroke I am kicking myself saying what on earth am I doing this for when I could be enjoying a regular job with regular hours and people my own age around me rather than geriatric neighbors dropping by for a chat."

"If I had known that I would end up as a single parent I would never have started the business," says Bridie. "No woman can be expected to run a business, a home and a family all by herself -- especially when she is menopausal."

"I keep on telling myself that in about five years' time the kids will be all grown up, I'll be over the menopause and I'll be thankful like hell that I have a business to keep me busy," says Bridie. "All I need to do is get over this hump without falling to pieces."

Read more about Bridie:

good riddance to bad rubbish

 

pap smear scare

Johanna is 38 and has had regular annual pap smear tests since she married at 18. With three children, a twenty year marriage and a healthy lifestyle she never expected the bad news she received from her gynaecologist.

"My gynaecologist told me that my last pap smear test was positive," says Johanna, "and I needed to go to hospital for a cone biopsy."

"He didn't say that I had cervical cancer," explains Johanna, "but what else could it have been?"

"I went from the gynaecologist's rooms to meet my fourteen year old daughter at the shops, and I was in a terrible state of shock when I got there."

"Dee-dee was terrified when I told her my bad news,” says Johanna, “but the worst reaction of all came from my husband,".

"His reaction was so chillingly unsympathetic that I decided I didn't want to go into hospital to have further tests without a second opinion about the positive pap smear test."

"I had a follow-up pap smear test and it was negative," laughs Johanna. "What a relief!"

"All that agony and angst for nothing," sighs Johanna, "but from that terrifying experience I did learn something to my advantage about the reliability of my husband. I lost all respect for him."

"Pap smear tests are really not as infallible as some doctors say they are and if my gynaecologist had been any good he would have scheduled a second test before scaring me to death with a cone biopsy in hospital."

"It was obviously time for me to find another gynaecologist," says Johanna, “and it was also time for me to reconsider marriage to a man who behaved so badly towards me in my hour of need."

"My cervix wasn't cancerous but my marriage most certainly was," says Johanna. "I determined that if I ever did have the misfortune of becoming seriously ill in the future my chances of survival were going to be much better without that man in my life." 

 Read more of Johanna's story:

unsupportive and insensitive husband

medical check scares young refugee

Jalenka was a 16 year old orphan when she was accepted as a refugee immigrant but her joy at a chance for a new life was soured by the cold-blooded medical check she was forced to endure.

"No man had ever seen much of my face - let alone a part of my body," says Jalenka, "so imagine how terrified I was when I was required to strip to my panties for a medical examination conducted by a young male doctor."

"I appreciate now that women in my new country accept being treated like lumps of flesh by male doctors - and do not flinch at being regularly subjected to all sorts of invasive procedures whether they are necessary or not," says Jalenka, "but it was all very new and very frightening for me - and it still is."

"In my old country a man is a man and no white coat makes him less of a man."

"There was no nurse - male or female - present at the medical examination," explains Jalenka. "It was just the young male doctor and myself."

"I could not believe that my new country was so insensitive to the feelings of a young girl."

"Would it have been too much trouble to have hired female doctors to examine female refugees?"

"I felt like a sheep - an animal without human feelings."

"The young doctor did not speak my language and I did not speak much English - but no words were necessary. He was just there to give me a physical examination, but he could not have missed how terrified I was."

"I was shaking like a leaf the whole time."

"I did not look at him - I turned my head away in shame."

"All I wore was a pair of panties - but he even wanted to see what was under the only piece of clothing I wore," says Jalenka.

"He lifted the elastic of my panties when I was lying down."

"Was it part of the medical examination to check whether I had public hair? Or was he looking to check that I was indeed a woman and not a man?"

"I started to weep at this point of the examination and I think the silly young doctor thought I was becoming sexually aroused."

"I was terrified that he was going to take my panties off in order to inspect my private parts - and maybe to stick something inside of me," sighs Jalenka, "but luckily for me he did not."

"I think I would have jumped up off the examination table and run away - rescinding my opportunity for a new life in a new country - had this happened to me."

"It was fit and proper that I needed to be medically examined for tuberculosis and other terrible diseases," says Jalenka, "but I do not believe that I needed to be humiliated in the way I was."

"X-rays and blood tests could have determined everything the government needed to know about my medical condition."

"I am left wondering whether I was accepted as an immigrant not because I was a refugee in need of a new home - but because I was a nubile young woman checked out and given the thumbs up by a male."

mammogram misery

Belle is single, 48, and suffers from painful, engorged and lumpy breasts. Apparently, according to her doctor, it's a very common hormonal problem suffered by menopausal women and nothing to worry about, but just to cover all angles she was sent for a breast cancer screening test. The mammogram experience was so awful that she will never subject herself willingly to anything like that again.

"My breasts were already painful and engorged," explains Belle, "so you can imagine the excruciating pain I went through when those X-ray plates squashed down on my breasts."

"The woman who was operating the breast X-ray machine must have been a masochist," sighs Belle. "Every time I cried in agony she would press harder -- and if that was not bad enough one of the X-rays did not 'take' very well which meant that I had to go through all that misery again."

"I came out of the X-ray room in tears," says Belle, "and the other women seated outside waiting their turn to be put through the breast wringer looked very worried when they saw me crying -- and they had good reason to be worried."

"The breast X-ray machine has to be the most abominable contraption ever invented -- and it must have been invented by a misogynist, a man who really hates women."

"I've learned since that there is a new procedure for testing for breast cancer that does not involve torture," says Belle, "but it beats me why they didn't think of something more gentle to start off with."

"I bet there is no ball or penis squashing X-ray machine to check for testicular and penile cancer in men, " laughs Belle. "The male dominated medical profession is very, very gentle when it deals with male problems."

"And the male dominated medical profession is not just gentle but downright secretive when it deals with male problems."

"Whoever heard of testicular, penile and prostate cancer before recent years?" asks Belle.

"Men have been suffering from these forms of cancer for as long as women have suffered from breast cancer," claims Belle, "but it was pictures of menopausal women with their breasts being squashed in the X-ray machine that were plastered over our television screens and in all of the magazines -- not pictures of middle-aged men and their crown jewels in similar compromising situations."

"Men pretended that they never had any problems -- it was all hushed up."

"And because men diagnosed with testicular, penile or prostate cancer suffer side-effects such as incontinence and impotence from treatment," adds Belle, "a lot of male doctors felt that mass screening wouldn't work for men as well as it does for women."

"In fact they agree among themselves that the cure is worse than the illness -- and that men would prefer not to know if they have cancer of their private parts."

"Well, as far as I can see it is virtually the same thing for women but that didn't stop the male dominated medical profession from recommending mass screening for breast cancer, did it?"

"Women are treated as stupid sheep as far as health matters are concerned," sighs Belle, "and unfortunately most of us have been brought up to accept that demeaning role."

"I found out later that my doctor could have sent me for a breast ultrasound rather than an mammogram," says Belle. "Why he chose to put me through that agony rather than go the gentle route worries me."

"Actually, there is something else that happened at the breast screening clinic that I need to tell women about," adds Belle.

"After the mammogram a male doctor did a physical examination and the first thing he said when he walked into the room and saw me sitting there bare-breasted was 'what a lovely pair of breasts you have for a 48 year-old-woman'."

"I hope I'm not sounding like an ingrate -- but that was not the sort of thing I expected to hear from a doctor specializing in breast cancer."

"It was sexist, patronizing and a back handed compliment," says Belle. "I doubt whether a female doctor would have made a similar comment about a male patient's appendages."

"My advice to menopausal women is this: Keep away from doctors!"

the myth of the balanced life

Blissfully single, 39 and a government employee, Marika tried for many years to live the medically recommended 'balanced life' -- attending to personal, professional, familial, relational and spiritual needs -- until constant stress and illness caused her to realize that people truly made her sick.

"I work with the public every day and that's not a problem -- these people don't make me sick," explains Marika. "It's people who intrude into my personal life and space who make me sick."

"Initially, I brought a whole lot of health problems upon myself by listening to other people and believing all that garbage in self-help books about the importance of living a 'balanced life'," explains Marika. "I was perfectly okay with my lifestyle until the people around me and the authors of those books implied that I was abnormal for preferring my own company to that of others."

"There really is no 'prescription' for life that we all must follow, whether or not we are suited for it," says Marika. "We are all different and what works for some people just doesn't work for all of us."

"I think men who follow the beat of their own drum have an easier time than women similar to them," says Marika. "Society tolerates 'rogue' men but it certainly doesn't tolerate 'rogue' women."

"I'm the second youngest in a family of six and for as long as I can remember I wanted to be alone," laughs Marika. "I just wasn't cut out to be a 'people' person and I believe that my health suffered from an early age because of the number of people intruding into my life."

"I was called a 'sickly' child," explains Marika, "but the only thing sick about me was my environment -- too many people, not enough personal space."

"I can see it all now, but at the time I just accepted what people said about me -- I was a 'sickly' child," sighs Marika. "You name it, I had every illness going. I was constantly sick with something and missed a lot of school because of it all."

"When I started work, left home and got a place of my own my health improved dramatically," says Marika. "I used to read a lot of self-help books -- mostly about female health matters -- and I was always puzzled by just about all of these books having a 'happy life prescription' that entailed a balanced life -- attending to personal, professional, familial, relational and spiritual needs."

"My family -- and the few friends I had -- added to my puzzlement by constantly nagging me to spend more time with them and ultimately to find a guy and get married."

"I felt pressured by all this -- and started getting sick again," explains Marika. "My natural reaction to being sick was to withdraw -- spend more time alone -- but it took me a long time to realize that it was these people who were making me sick!"

"Don't get me wrong -- my family and friends aren't toxic people," explains Marika. "They are perfectly normal regular people who appear to thrive with plenty of people around them."

"I wanted to be like them -- and I really put a lot of effort into getting out and meeting new people," says Marika. "But the more people I allowed into my life the sicker I became."

"The happy life prescription -- a balanced life -- just didn't work for me," laughs Marika. "Spending equal attention to personal, professional, familial, relational and spiritual needs may work for the majority of people but it didn't work for me -- it made me unhappy and sick."

"I'd spend Saturdays with friends and Sundays with my family," says Marika, "and by Monday I was too ill to go to work. I'd have hives or a strep throat or a blinding headache or urinary tract trouble or something worse."

"Understanding that my personal, professional and spiritual needs are far more vital to me than my familial and relational needs turned my life and my health around," says Marika. "Cutting my family and friends out of my life was easier for me than it was for them -- but it had to be done."

"I don't consider myself abnormal for preferring my own company to that of others," says Marika. "I'm just different. And acknowledging and understanding and applauding that difference means happiness and health to me."

"Think about it," laughs Marika. "Lots of people don't have professional lives -- they're either retired or just don't work for some reason or other. Does missing out on a professional life make their lives unbalanced or make them abnormal or make them sick?"

"Same thing goes for the other so-called essential areas of a balanced life," says Marika. "Orphans don't have a family, millions of people have no spiritual life and relationships cause more grief than happiness. Striving for balance is not only impossible for many people but it's also a health hazard."

"I've gone a year now without missing a day of work through illness," says Marika. "I'm taking no medication and I'm happier and healthier than I've ever been before."

"If you're a 'people' person you'll think I'm hard-hearted and my life is miserable bereft of family and friends," laughs Marika, "and that's understandable. That's how 'people' persons think! You'd be sick and miserable living my life."

"The bottom line is that I was sick and miserable living your life," laughs Marika. "It works for you but not for people like me."

walk don't drive!

Cindy is 32, single and childless and holds an executive position. After moving from a city apartment to a magnificent house in the suburbs and buying a SUV she started piling on the pounds and felt lousy.

"At the time I wanted to show off my wealth and announce to the world that I had made it," says Cindy. "But most of all I wanted to own an automobile - a big SUV just like the one in the sexy ads."

Cindy soon found that one of the drawbacks of suburban living is that the further we live from our workplaces in the city, the more reliant we become on transport.

"Train and bus commuters are regularly held to ransom by strikes and breakdowns in the service," says Cindy, "but automobile owners have far more problems with traffic jams and when my SUV broke down or needed servicing -- which it did regularly -- I became distraught."

"I never really knew what stress was until I became an auto owner," sighs Cindy, "and I guess the more stressed I became the more I ate. To make matters worse, I started using the vehicle for short trips that I once was happy to walk. I became fat and lazy."

"Sure, it’s great to have an automobile to jump into for weekend jaunts," says Cindy, "but after the novelty wore off I just didn’t have time or energy to go weekend driving. I soon discovered that apart from driving to and from work, I used my automobile for little purpose other than driving a couple of blocks to buy a newspaper. I did this more to justify owning a car than because I was too lazy to walk."

Her suburb, like most suburbs, has good, cheap and frequent public transport - and she didn’t live more than a couple of blocks away from shops - so she really started feeling guilty about her extravagance and stupidity and thickening waistline.

She also found that owning an automobile is very expensive. More expensive for her than anyone else, perhaps, because she had to pay parking fees in the city on top of regular vehicle expenses.

"Most people living in city apartments just don't have a need for a car," says Cindy, "and they're richer and slimmer because of it!"

"Nobody can deny the joy of getting into a brand new automobile, smelling that brand new leather smell, taking to the open road and attracting the envy of everyone who catches a glimpse of you passing by in your SUV," sighs Cindy. "I was more thrilled to show off my new SUV than my new home. It was a novelty for me. It was my first vehicle!"

Not everyone is going to be envious, though. Plenty of people have escaped from the drudgery of car ownership and are walking or using public transport. When a large chunk of your income goes into paying for automobile expenses -- and especially when your income doesn't quite cover the costs of automobile expenses and you need to take out a second or a third personal loan to cover them -- you start to do some thinking.

"It wasn’t just the astronomical cost of owning and running the vehicle -- and the personal cost in terms of extra fat and general unfitness that I thought about," says Cindy. "I thought about the environment -- acres and acres of dead cars and acrid air to breathe. The road toll -- thousands of people getting killed or maimed on the roads every year, and road rage -- stressed out drivers abusing the hell out of each other."

"After much soul-searching I decided to get rid of the SUV," says Cindy. "I needed to put myself into a position where I had no alternative but to walk everywhere."

"I started a get fit routine by regularly walking around my suburb in the evenings after work," says Cindy, "and I also joined a grass roots movement to get into cleaner and healthier living."

"I advise anyone working to pay for a car, or paying for a car in order to work, or considering moving to the suburbs in order to own a car, to think very hard about SUV ownership," says Cindy. "These gas guzzling monsters not only break your bank but they have a negative impact on neighborhoods and the world at large and they also make you fat and lazy!

"If you own a SUV," explains Cindy, "it ends up ruling your life and ruining it, too. SUV ownership, for me, meant a stack of fat around my butt and a stack of bills in my desk drawer - both of which I’m still working hard to get rid of!"

When Cindy got rid of her car and the expenses it generated it was the best thing she ever did. She's now leading a happier and healthier lifestyle.

"I walk to the railway station every morning and I commute by train to the city and I'm feeling skinnier already," laughs Cindy. "I just wish that everyone who lived in the suburbs did the same thing, but sooner or later everyone will be forced to walk due to gas becoming either a scarce commodity or a banned substance due to air pollution."

"Honestly," says Cindy, "I just bought the house to go with the SUV and now that I no longer have it I feel a bit silly stuck out in the suburbs in a big house all by myself."

"There's really not much life in the suburbs as far as walking goes," says Cindy, "and in that respect I do miss living in the city where everyone walks and cars just drive by."

"I guess I’ll be moving back to a city apartment one day soon," she laughs, "and it will be great to be trim, taut and terrific again."