How do you know when you cut your finger? You get a sudden, sharp pain, right? How do you know when it gets better? One day, you notice that your finger hasn't hurt you in a while, and when you look at it, you notice there's nothing wrong with it.
Chances are, you never noticed a moment when you became coeliac, or when you developed whatever disease you've got. You spent time feeling worse and worse, and eventually you got a diagnosis.
That's what happened to me, too. But then, one day, something else happened: In a period of about ten minutes, my coeliac just fell away. I felt my whole body simply let go and stop doing it. I felt a raging thirst, and my insides felt clean for the first time in years. The experience was like cutting my finger - but in reverse. At the same time, my whole skin became incredibly itchy, and I spent several hours scratching myself raw. But, when the itch stopped I knew it was going to be the very last anaphylaxis I would ever experience - because I had felt my allergy simply drop away.
I bet you want to know what I was doing at the time! I was on a course, learning Neuro-Linguistic Programming, or NLP. If you've never heard of it, it's the distillation of a whole bunch of psychological therapies to make a single coherent study of how your head works. There's some hypnosis in there, some linguistic stuff, some time-line, and a whole bunch of really cool stuff which is unique to NLP. Think of it as a hotline straight into the core of your unconscious! It's used by salesmen, stage magicians, and thousands of therapists the world over. It's a huge subject - too much to explain in detail here. But, I was there, after having already done a basic course, learning to be a master practitioner.
My experience came as the course tutor demonstrated a particularly powerful technique on me, for the benefit of the class. If you already know anything about hypnosis or NLP, let me tell you that what I experienced was, in no way, a simple suggestion. I know this because the NLP which we were taught operates without any content at all, and neither I, nor the tutor, nor anyone else in the class had the faintest idea that it was my illness that was being treated that day.
After the demonstration was over, I went to the back of the room to get some water - as I said, I was desperately thirsty. I saw a plate of biscuits, and for the first time in years, I realised that food wasn't my enemy. I had a biscuit, and I've been eating what I want ever since.
So: If you've finally had enough of doing your illness, you just need to do the same as I did.
Now, for the third time: do you believe me, or do you prefer to believe your doctor?