Confessions of a therapy junkie
Evening Standard | 22 Jul 1993
IT IS a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of a fortune must be in want of an alternative therapist. At least that’s the world according to Princess Diana, who has just been seen stepping out of the latest fashionable foot doctor’s surgery, probably en route to Manolo Blahnik via a touch of colonic irrigation. But this is a truth on which the Princess and I agree. Because I am also a therapy junkie.
View transcriptIT IS a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of a fortune must be in want of an alternative therapist. At least that’s the world according to Princess Diana, who has just been seen stepping out of the latest fashionable foot doctor’s surgery, probably en route to Manolo Blahnik via a touch of colonic irrigation. But this is a truth on which the Princess and I agree. Because I am also a therapy junkie.
We’re the A Team – people with analysts, acupuncturists, accountants, architects, allergy therapists and Alexander Technique teachers. Been there, done that, got the green pesticide-free T-shirt. There! It’s out. (But only after major advisory consultations with my shiatsu masseuse, reflexologist and homeopath.) We’re the sensitive types who sit in offices (if we have to work) with an ioniser nearby to purify the air, a lumber roll, stocks of horse-sized vitamin pills and a water purifier from which to drink. Aromatherapy essential oils burn in a dish nearby to overcome our obsessive hatred of Gitanes.
We believe we’re all addicted (whether to chocolate, heroin, shopping or caffeine) and use words like rageaholic. We’re addicted to finding things wrong. We are also, of course, hopelessly self-conscious and obviously self-absorbed.
At home we hide books like Women Who Love Too Much and What Women Want. Almost any book on recovery (a key A Team word) while we wait for a book on self-help recovery. If we thought the neighbours couldn’t hear, we’d play music from Puerto Rican rainforests or New Age dolphin gurgles to help extend relaxation and awareness. We yearn for weekends in Tyringham Naturopathic Clinic eating grapes and soya bean casserole while sitting in a seaweed bath.
I have tried most of these things. I have acupuncture regularly, allowing a practitioner to play voodoo dolls with me and right an imbalanced liver which has a channel flowing up my big toe. I learned Alexander Technique until I almost died of boredom. (For weeks the tutor teaches you how to get out of a chair and sit down again. It was worse than the severe riding accident which got me there.) When I wanted to lose weight, I visited a Chinese kinesiologist (tests muscles to diagnose food allergies). I can’t remember what he said, but I bet I had some.
I’m hooked on Ayurvedic massage (two people massage you) and Indian rope massage (where a man swings from a rope to massage you with his feet). I’ve even been to Balham to have my feet done by a Metamorphic technique practitioner who says the foot from toe to heel corresponds to the pre-natal period from conception to birth.
Alongside Princess Diana, I’ve had reflexology, in which areas of the soles correspond to organs of the body and the feet are probably the key to the entire workings of your mind.
I’ve had colour therapy and gem therapy; pill-popped homeopathic remedies, taking substances so diluted they’re like a drop of liquid in the Baltic Sea; tried Bach Flower Remedies for negative emotional states; and been in a flotation tank with saline solution to stimulate the body’s production of happy hormones.
In Hong Kong, I tried herbalism and daily drank tea probably made of bull’s horn and fish ear, which proved handy for menstrual tension; resident in Sydney, I had iridology, which can diagnose the entire nervous system from the surface of the iris.
It’s easy to laugh. But whether you have spots, tennis elbow or major depression, it’s obvious to me that you need rolfing, past-life reconstruction or hands-on healing. If all else fails, you can have your aura photographed for a tenner or nip off for a self-realisation weekend workshop (another key word that, workshop, in the A Team) in the South of France. We don’t even mind too much if the therapist is unregulated and a former management consultant.
The big question is why? Is it too much money, time, lack of self-worth or guilt that has led the ladies who lunch (or work) to have reflexology instead of pasta in Beauchamp Place?
I’ve had my share of illnesses, operations and emotional traumas. But I suffer no more from physical ailments and psychic malaise than your average citizen. Probably less. I’m not a hypochondriac. But I believe in holistic treatment, in which the patient’s mind, body, diet, lifestyle and emotional state are considered alongside Western medicine.
We live in a society in which orthodox religion has been forgotten (priests no longer have the answers for our troubles). We often have a sense of powerlessness and lack of worth. So we search for answers and ways to fix ourselves, seeking remedies to help us feel in control of our lives. Religion gave us rules. Now there aren’t any rules so people have to find something else to give meaning to their lives. Eastern religion and gurus from America do nicely.
We no longer believe in original sin or spend our lives trying to atone for Adam and Eve’s hash-up. Now the onus is on the individual. Psychotherapy, which is all about realising the self and balancing the opposing forces of good and bad, has replaced religion. But psychotherapy is painful and hard work. Sitting under a purple pyramid is quicker. Instead of original sin, we now have to deal with childhood. Which is something we’ve set up as a false icon, thinking it should have been an idyllic period of innocence. (But ‘They f*** you up your Mum and Dad . . .’) So we’ve all had damaged childhoods and been abused (another key A Team concept). We’re all insecure and have an inner child who’s in a bad way. We need anything to help us get over the drama of having been a child. The problem is that we’ve forgotten that our difficulties are just part of the human condition. Even Princess Diana’s.
DIANA’S GUIDE TO ALTERNATIVE THERAPY CHIROPRACTIC
She regularly receives treatment and in 1991 was made patron of the Anglo-European College of Chiropractic.
ACUPUNCTURE
Oonagh Toffolo has visited the Princess since 1989 to stimulate the body’s ‘meridians’ – invisible energy paths on the skin – with needles.
AROMATHERAPY
Receives treatment from Sue Beechey, of Aromatherapy Associates in Fulham, using different oils for different effects – eg citrus oils to stimulate; basil and camomile to relax.
REFLEXOLOGY
Yesterday it was revealed that the Princess has been having her feet massaged, stimulating the blood supply and nerves and relieving tension.
COLONIC IRRIGATION
In September 1992 rumours were rife after she attended the Hale Clinic on a day when colonic irrigation practitioners were offering treatment.
HOLISTIC MASSAGE
Stephen Twigg started providing deep tissue massage in the late Eighties as part of his holistic approach (the belief that the health of mind, body and spirit are co-dependent). Sacked in 1992 after talking to the Press.
ASTROLOGY
Visits Frederick Lyle, who has a reputation for making observations in psychological, rather than astrological, language.