In March 2005, my son who was 15 at the time, was attacked at school. It was a Friday. He returned to school on the Monday, this was to be his last day at school until August. In hindsight I know that the attack was just the final straw. My son had been suffering from low self-esteem, a relationship breakdown with his father, and I was also unhappy in my relationship with my partner, which were all contributors. He had developed a 'hatred' for his younger brother which was tearing the family apart.

The Tuesday following the attack he awoke with a pain in the right hand side of his abdomen, the pain was severe and lasted for 4 months.

Initially the doctor thought he had glandular fever as he was also suffering from a sore throat. Then it was suspected apendicitis, he would be having his appendix removed, however following further tests he was sent home, there was nothing wrong with his appendix. It was a viral illness that would go away on its own.

I was frustrated and very worried and helpless, wishing I could wave a magic wand or even take the pain myself to free him of it. I longed for him to do something mischievous but he didn't.

My son very rarely left the house. He was very down and he held his right arm pemanently at his "pain" as if he were guarding it. I called the doctor at least twice a week and although he was very good and supportive the doctor could not find out what was wrong. I hsd to continue work and relied on family and friends to come and sit with him as I was concerned for his safety. He was tested for Crohns Disease, IBS and many other things.

It was then decided he was fibre deficient and constipated. What followed next was weeks of "cleaning him out" - even though he said he went to the loo regularly. He was also put on anti-depressants - at one stage you could have shook him and he would have rattled with all the pills he was taking.

Of course the pain he had was psychosomatic.

In June a breakthrough came, I called the doctor again - only to be told he was on holiday for the next 2 weeks so I decided to see another doctor - "there is a solution" - there were no ifs and buts in her voice - she was adamant she knew how we could help my son.

Time Line Therapy. I left the surgery wondering if this is for real? It was expensive - what if it didn't work? All I wanted was my son better.

The past few months had taken its toll on myself also. I had also suffered periods of depression since my marriage breakdown 5 years previously, I was carrying a lot of baggage and was in an unhappy relationship. I went to see the doctor the following week knowing what she would say. "You also need Time Line Therapy".

At the end of June 2005 my son and I met Marion Dias. We spent a day each with her receiving therapy. My son was quite unresponsive at the beginning of his therapy; he was even quite rude, however I watched as the day went on his whole persona changed. When we left Marion he was still holding his side, Marion said this was normal after all he had held his side for four months. I asked him when he would stop holding his side. He said "tomorrow" - the next day he put down his arm - the pain had gone. He started going out with friends.

The day I met Marion was the first day of the rest of my life. I now have the tools to make my life fun and happy, all the unhappy memories have gone (along with the unhappy relationship). It's my life and boy is it good. My son is well, a typical teenager who is full of mischief which I get cross about at times but I am so glad about all of the time.

My sister Mandy who has suffered serious depression for a few years saw Marion in December 2005, as with my son and I, Marion transformed her.

Marion has transformed my life and my son's life and I strongly believe she saved my sister's life.