Help Me: My Perfectly Disastrous Journey through the World of Self-Help | Page 8 of 191

Author: Marianne Power | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 4036 Views | Add a Review

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The idea came to me fully formed: One book a month, followed to the letter, to see if self-help really could change my life. I would do it for a year – so twelve books in all. And I would systematically tackle my flaws one book at a time: money, worrying, my weight . . . Then, at the end of the year, I’d be . . . perfect!

‘OK, but you’ve got to actually do stuff,’ said Sheila when I told her my idea on the phone a few days later. ‘You can’t just read books that make you analyse your feelings for the whole year.’ Her tone implied I’d just use this as a massive opportunity to navel-gaze and become even more self-obsessed than usual.

‘I will do stuff!’ I snapped. ‘That’s the whole point.’

‘Which books are you going to follow? Have you got a plan?’

Again, a dig. Sheila knows I never have a plan.

‘I’m going to start with Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway because that had a big effect the first time I read it and then I think I’ll do a money book and then, I don’t know. In self-help land they talk about the right book finding you at the right time,’ I said.

I knew I sounded flaky.

‘Are you going to do books you’ve read before or new ones?’ she asked.

‘A mixture,’ I said.

‘Are you going to do a dating book?’


‘Which one?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘And when?’

‘I don’t know, Sheila! Later in the year. I want to work on myself first, then I’ll think about a man.’

I hated that I used the phrase ‘work on myself’.

‘So what exactly do you want to get out of all this?’ Sheila asked.

This is why she gets paid the big bucks. To see the flaw in any plan.

‘I dunno. I’d just like to be happier and more confident and get out of debt. I’d like to get healthier and drink less—’

‘You don’t need a book to drink less,’ Sheila interrupted.

‘I know you don’t!’ I said, taking a quiet gulp of wine.

‘OK, but you have to actually DO things. Not just talk about them.’

‘Yes, Sheila, I get it. I will.’

But even Sheila’s realism couldn’t get me down. I got off the phone, closed my eyes and imagined how perfect I would be at the end of the year.

Perfect Me would not worry or procrastinate, she’d get her work done easily. She would write for all the best newspapers and magazines and earn obscene amounts of money doing it – enough to get braces to fix her dodgy teeth. Perfect Me would be living in a gorgeous apartment with big windows. She’d have bookshelves full of highbrow literary books that she actually read. At night she’d go to swanky gatherings where she’d look gorgeous in low-key but expensive clothes. And she’d go to the gym all the time. Oh, and she’d have a handsome man in a cashmere sweater by her side. Goes without saying.

You know the kind of perfection you see in magazines: those

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Great book, nicely written and thank you BooksVooks for uploading

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