In this guest post, M.J. Giesey shares her turning point after years of Long Covid. M.J. is a co-author of our new, updated Programs Guide (coming January 14, 2026).
On December 26, 2022, as I woke up in the guest bed at my in-laws’ house, I knew it was going to be bad before my eyes even opened.
If you’re reading this, I probably don’t need to describe “it” to you – the feeling like I’d been buried under a ton of bricks while I slept, or I’d run a marathon after fasting for a week, or my brain had been run through a meat grinder. And I’m not talking about a hangover; I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol in years.
I had really thought this year would be different. It was my third holiday season with Long COVID, and over the past six months, I’d finally started to gain a little ground back. I’d learned to guard my energy so carefully, to say no, to leave the room every hour and rest no matter what was going on. I’d brought my healthy foods and turned down almost every dessert.
But somewhere between the increased socialization and gift opening ceremonies and sitting at the table for long meals, I must have overdone it. I used to love the winter holidays. Now, they felt like a game I couldn’t win.
I didn’t get to participate in half the family activities I wanted to, but still I wound up bedbound for anywhere from a few days to a month afterward.
This is the last year, I told myself as I lay in bed crying silently. It’s time to try something new.
I’d become curious about the idea of neuroplasticity, or brain retraining, about six months earlier when I watched Liz’s recovery interview on Raelan Agle’s YouTube channel. I’d tried so many things to recover – supplements, off-label prescriptions, special diets, acupuncture, meditation, aggressive pacing, graded exercise, sleeping 16 hours a day, and more – and I’d given up on the idea of finding a magic bullet. At the same time, I wasn’t willing to accept this condition for the rest of my life. I also wasn’t ready to resign myself to the prospect that, as one doctor put it, I would “slowly meander back to 90% over the course of 10 years or so.” Liz’s story gave me hope that there may be one more thing worth trying: Not a too-good-to-be-true quick-fix, but a serious recovery approach that was helping real people get better within a year, not ten.
At the time, though, I wasn’t ready to commit. I didn’t think I had the mental stamina, cognitive functioning, or screen tolerance for an online brain retraining program.
On a deeper level, I was afraid these programs would tell me my illness was just in my head or caused by my inability to manage stress or some deep psychological weakness.
I desperately needed reassurance that this life-wrecking illness was “real” – and if it could be undone through mental exercises, didn’t that mean it wasn’t real?
I put the idea off. Instead I made elaborate superfood smoothies, tried to sync my circadian rhythm with the sun, and spent lots of time with my bare feet in the grass. These were good things to do. But my progress remained almost imperceptible, and after the holidays, I felt like I was right back where I started.
On January 1, 2023, I set my hesitations aside and resolved to sign up for a neuroplasticity-based program as soon as possible. I started researching the few I’d heard of – and I didn’t get very far. Every program featured multiple glowing testimonials from people who had fully recovered, sometimes with alarming speed.
The program websites, however, left most of my questions unanswered. Would the scientific explanations they offered align with my experience of my illness? Or would they make me feel dismissed and blamed, recalling traumatic medical experiences? And could I actually complete any of these programs with my current mental limitations? They asked for a significant investment of time and money, both of which my illness had made scarce. On top of all that, I’ve always struggled with analysis paralysis, and now I could only spend 15 minutes a day on this research project.
I was about to sign up for the first program I’d heard of and soldier through it regardless of whether it was the right fit.
Whether it was coincidence or luck or serendipity, that’s when Lindsay and Liz released the first version of the CFS Recovery Programs Guide.
It felt like it had been created especially for me – like a magical Christmas gift I would never have known to ask for.
I skipped straight to the section on Brain Retraining Programs and excitedly skimmed through the options. The programs I’d been trying to research were in there, along with several that hadn’t been on my radar at all.
The descriptions in the guide provided the information that was important to me, like which programs had a strong basis in current neuroscience, which ones actually felt flexible to participants, and which ones emphasized topics or explanations I’d rather avoid.
They also provided details that hadn’t even occurred to me to look for, like the background of the program creators, the style or “feel” of each program, and which programs offered a strong sense of community. In just a few days the guide helped me narrow my options down to two neuroplasticity-based programs. I signed up for free trials of both and quickly determined which one felt right for me.
Since many programs deliver their core information through video lessons, there was one question the Programs Guide couldn’t answer for me:
Is this someone I want to watch for hours on end over the next few months, often at the expense of my precious TV time?
But thanks to the guide, I only had to make this assessment for two programs, not ten or twenty.
When the time came to pay for the program I’d chosen, I felt confident I was making a good investment. While I knew recovery was not guaranteed, the fact that the program had been reviewed and vetted by people without a financial interest and with a similar lived experience (that is, Lindsay and Liz) meant a lot to me. Based on their research and all the feedback they’d gathered, I knew the program checked all the boxes that were most important to me.
I also didn’t have to wonder if there were dozens of other, potentially better, options out there.
The Programs Guide allowed me to make a decision based not on desperation, but on my own intuition guided by reliable information.
Most importantly of all, this confidence allowed me to fully commit to the program I chose without looking back. I worked through the material – very slowly at first, then more quickly as my mental stamina increased. My fears about brain retraining programs making me feel like my illness wasn’t real, or was somehow my fault, were set at ease right away. The educational videos presented scientific explanations that validated the seriousness of my condition, fully aligned with my lived experience, and made me feel more hopeful than ever about using the science of neuroplasticity to recover. At the same time, the sessions were short and the explanations clear. The program turned out to be a great fit for me – and it was one I’d never heard of before downloading the guide.
Day after day, over the course of 2023, I showed up and put in the work. I filled out the workbook, implemented the practices, and even attended some live group calls. Before long, I started to feel better – really and truly better. By April I could read for 30 minutes just for fun. By May I could go grocery shopping and cook dinner without worrying about any after-effects. By August I could enjoy a five-mile hike. And when December came around, my husband and I hitched up our pop-up camper and road-tripped from Wisconsin to Tennessee to visit my family for Christmas. I played board games, helped cook, and did crafts with my nieces. I also took naps and made my smoothies and went to bed by 10PM, but it still felt like I had exponentially more time than last year.
On December 26, 2023, I woke up and smiled. I felt good. Ahead of me was another beautiful day to spend with my family.
Three years later, I’m still so grateful for my health, for Liz and Lindsay pouring their time and hearts into this incredible resource, and for all the people who have created programs to help others recover from ME/CFS, Long COVID, and similar illnesses.
I’ve been honored to spend the last 6 months working with Lindsay and Liz on a major update to the Programs Guide – and we can’t wait to share it with you in just a few weeks!
If you’re still in the trenches, and if you’re feeling discouraged after another tough holiday season, don’t give up.
This is the perfect time to try a new approach. There are programs designed to meet you wherever you are, even if you can only spend a few minutes a day. And you don’t have to go in blindly, because we’ve done the research for you. We’ve done our best to pack this guide with information, resources, and encouragement in a format that makes it easy to find what matters to you.
I hope it will help you connect with your best version of this time next year – a season full of all the things you love.
