Day 1. What would a life without TMS mean to you?

Everything.

I just want my life back. I want to do things and not feel sick or not be worried that it will make me sick or weak or tired. I want to party and be able to get up for work in the morning. I want to be able to get up for work in the morning. I want my career back. That yoyo of a life that is acting. I would give anything to be better.

I often think that if this works, I'll do a show about it. Not for me, but for anyone else who might be suffering from TMS. And of course it would be the best show in the world and win awards but most importantly and seriously, it would lead others to a path of healing. But maybe that's premature.

If I feel normal again, I will never take that normality for granted. I will kiss that normal! Hold it. Tell it to never leave me. I am so jealous of everyone else for just being normal.

Without TMS I feel like I could deal with the struggles of my everyday life: my brother, the rejections, unfulfilled ambitions, the excitement, the happy jealousies, the occasional insomnia. But with TMS, I can't deal with this.

Sometimes I worry that my brain is doing this to me so I have an excuse to fail. What if it's easier to say 'I never made it because I got ill' rather than 'I never made it because I'm not good enough?' Consciously, I know that I want to be able to try, to graft, to face it. But, perhaps, unconsciously my brain is protecting me. From not feeling good enough or being a disappointment.

Life without TMS would be a miracle. Please, let me have it.