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EFT: My Alternative Cure and Recovery for CFS/ME

By Kelly Meisak

In the following article, I share my experience of how EFT tapping cured my debilitating condition of chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS), which doctors were unable to treat. Eight years later, I am still 100% healthy. Since recovering, I have specialized in treating CFS, myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME), and other serious illnesses and diseases. EFT has granted spectacular results–even for those who find all other treatments and solutions haven’t worked for them. I feel EFT is particularly valuable in enabling sufferers to manage their own symptoms and feel a sense of empowerment and control over their conditions. I’ve found that to be really important. I offer an inexpensive ebook recovery program to guide those who wish to tackle the journey by themselves. Visit; the Life Clinic is a Scotland-based therapy practice specializing in helping those with CFS, ME, fibromyalgia, and adrenal fatigue.

I was stuck. I’d been glued to my boyfriend’s kitchen floor for 10 minutes, unable to move. We’d had a lovely day. It had been so long since I had left my house at all. In an attempt to uplift me, he took me to the cinema to see a movie. He parked his car right outside the movie theatre so I didn’t have far to walk. We got sweets and popcorn and hot cups of tea. I felt like I’d won the lottery. I felt almost normal, sitting there in the dark, stuffing my face, with my feet perched on the chair in front. I remembered what it was like to be normal. We used to do this all the time.

Halfway through the movie, I knew it was coming. Sweat began searing out of my pores. My limbs became numb and heavy. Blood drained from my face and sunk to the soles of my feet. I was so exhausted I didn’t think I’d be able to get up. With my boyfriend’s help, I managed to get back to his house. The moment I got inside, I dropped to the floor. I didn’t have another ounce of energy to move. I sat on his cold kitchen floor with my body flopped over like a rag doll, too exhausted to call for his help.

That was the moment I knew I was in too deep. It was the first time that I couldn’t even crawl. The first time that there was literally nothing left. It was the first time I had to give in because I had absolutely nothing left to fight with–and it was terrifying. He carried me upstairs in his arms like a baby and put me to bed. I was there for three days, with barely enough energy to get up to go to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, that’s the reality of chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). It takes so much out of you that sometimes there’s just no fight left in you. I was lucky–I found an amazing modality that was able to lift me out of such ill health when nothing else had worked. I’m going to share with you how I managed to recover fully, but in order for you to understand the recovery, I need to share the journey.

In February 2006, my car skidded out of control and crashed violently into a set of railings. My car was completely wrecked, which I was devastated about, but I felt particularly lucky to have escaped with just a little whiplash. I was back at work in my family’s hairdressing salon the next day, full of energy and buzz. A week later, however, while styling a client’s hair, I collapsed. Nothing like that had ever happened before.

From that day on, I continued to get worse. I began fainting once or twice a day, which built quickly to five or six times instead. I suffered head rushes, constant dizziness, severe sweating, intense nausea, and an exhaustion I never knew existed. At its worst, I could barely walk, and standing for more than one or two minutes would cause me to collapse. My life had completely fallen apart around me.

I went from being a lively stylist and manager of a busy salon, who was full of health and fun, to the equivalent of an elderly bedridden woman. At the age of 19, it was a transition much faster and more abrupt than I was willing to accept. I wasn’t willing to go down without a fight. I saw several different GPs up to seven times. I visited every local hospital in the area as both an inpatient and outpatient and went through extensive tests, then also at three specialist hospitals in the city. It felt to me as though I had to fight to be heard and even believed. As you can imagine, in the state I was in, getting out of the car to the doors of the hospital caused considerable difficulty and I eventually gave in to a wheelchair. Sometimes the exertion of the doctors’ appointments would confine me to bed with exhaustion for days afterward. I felt like I just couldn’t win.

Almost a year and a half later, after fighting to be taken seriously, I was granted a specialist and finally diagnosed with CFS. Sadly however, being diagnosed did not mean that I could receive treatment. There was no known treatment available and they suggested that I might have it all of my life. Unfortunately, CFS and myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME) are often a controversial topic within the medical profession. The majority of doctors had little time or respect for me and often treated me as a hypochondriac. This caused me great shame and confusion within something that was so real and traumatic to me. Not only did I have to suffer this awful condition, but I also had to deal with all of the skepticism and doubt from the doctors I was begging to fix me. The feeling of pleading with someone else for my life was like living on death row. They weren’t going to fix me, and I was sick of begging.

I took control of it myself. In absolute desperation, I tried everything: chiropractic, Bowen therapy, herbal supplements, acupuncture, neuro-linguistic programming, cognitive-behavioral therapy, and Mickel therapy, among others. Some made little dents in my condition while others made none, but I continued to search, somewhat obsessively. I couldn’t live trapped like that. I was very aware that I had my health in my own hands and that if I didn’t do something about it, no one else would. In a way, I enjoyed the searching; it gave me a sense of hope. It gave me something to do. 

I filled my days with self-help and alternative therapy books. It kept my mind active and productive. Only now do I realize how vital it actually was. I became caught in the downward spiral of a deep depression. I was a nobody, a nothing. It felt that outside of the four walls I was living in, I was essentially nonexistent. I didn’t count. Maybe nobody even noticed that I was gone. I had some scary thoughts at that time, and I can honestly say that if I hadn’t had my loved ones around me, I don’t think I would have had a reason to stay alive. I hate to say those words, but unfortunately, it was a very real part of the journey.

Suddenly, I noticed Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT) was popping up in front of me quite often. I had ignored it for some time because I had gotten the impression that it was religious and that didn’t interest me. One day as my sister pushed my wheelchair around a bookshop, I found myself in a familiar spot–in the mind, body and spirit section. I was browsing what I hadn’t already read when there was EFT again, annoyingly protruding in front of all the other books. I gave in, picked up the EFT book, and skimmed the back cover. Something about it nudged at me. I didn’t really have enough money to be buying more books, but something begged me to take it home.

Once home, I delved in straight away. It hooked me so strongly that I could hardly read fast enough. I didn’t want to fool myself and be carried away by something too good to be true; every other therapy had started with great optimism that this would be “the one.” I raced to the method, read it through a few times, reminded myself not to get too excited, and had a rough try at the anxiety that had been plaguing me since long before my illness began.

At first, I thought I was crazy. It had definitely made a difference. I worried that perhaps I was so incredibly desperate for a cure that I had in some way imagined it. I checked, and double-checked, and triple-checked. It had definitely made a change.

The method became a daily practice and my symptoms began to improve immediately. I mainly focused it on my daily emotions (which are often heightened in those with CFS/ME). I hadn’t realized that releasing panic, anxiety, guilt, and fear daily would make an improvement in the condition as a whole. It led me to realize some interesting traits about myself (that I’ve since found common in my clients with these conditions too). It was apparent to me that my heightened emotions were the cause of much of my illness. I almost never expressed my true feelings for fear of upsetting someone or being judged or criticized. I found it extremely difficult to say no. My career was snowballing in a direction that I didn’t enjoy or want. I pushed myself way too hard in achieving and I judged myself a million times harsher than anyone ever would. I was stuffing everything down. I wasn’t expressing my truth. It was as if my body were saying, “Well, if you won’t say no, I will!”

Every day I calmed the storm of emotional chaos that had plagued me since long before I fell ill. (I’ve found that these conditions are the result of prolonged stress and generally a key trigger, after which health never recovered.) Eventually, the storm was gone. Then I worked on all of the things that had stressed me out preceding the condition, and used techniques like Tell the Story and Matrix Reimprinting on the key trauma itself (the car crash). I was also unaware at the time that the tapping was directly affecting my stress response and calming it from hypersensitivity to normal levels. I believe that it is this key aspect of EFT which makes it especially effective for treating CFS and ME. I’ve often found with my clients that calming the stress response (and resolving the things that burnt it out in the first place) is the secret to creating a lasting recovery. 

Through the following months, I worked both on gradually getting myself back to full health. Within 4 months, I had made a full recovery. It felt like a real live miracle. Realizing that I had the power and ability to heal myself all along was so empowering. It inspired a sense of purpose within me. It put me on my path. I wasn’t meant to be a hairdresser; I was meant to be a healer. I knew that if I could assist others to have the same experience that I would truly be doing meaningful work in my life. I would be making a change. 

It seems like such a long time ago now, and although the experience was one of the toughest things that I have ever endured, I like to think of it as a crash course that equipped me with the tools to help others embarking on the same path. It seems we are entwined in that somehow, you and I. No matter where you are on the journey, I want you to know that it’s not forever, and it absolutely and undoubtedly can be changed.