I Haven’t Been Completely Honest With You by Miranda Hart Review – Chronic Illness and Love at Last

MIranda Hart’s latest book feels unexpected coming from a comedic actor famous for her on-screen pratfalls and her love of all things silly. I had assumed it would be a joke-filled memoir reflecting on the Call the Midwife star’s road to success, as is regularly released in comics in the run-up to Christmas. But even though I Haven’t Been Completely Honest With You has its confessional moments, it is intended as a serious manual for life. For Hart, wisdom is hard to come by, after a decade of darkness and misery that saw her career put on hold.

We learn how Hart has been unwell for much of her life. From her late teens, she suffered from “too many itises” – bronchitis, tonsilitis, pericarditis, gastroenteritis, labyrinthitis – along with blood clots, adrenal fatigue, cysts, migraines and more. She often woke up exhausted and wondered how she would get through the day. Things came to a head a decade ago when she collapsed at home, leaving her confined to her bed with “complete ghostly weakness”. A short walk outside was as difficult as anything I had done. I stood in the road feeling like I had to remind my brain how to put one foot in front of the other. I looked at a cup of tea on the table and wondered if I had the strength to take a sip.”

In 2020, after years of her symptoms being downplayed or disbelieved by doctors, Hart finally received a diagnosis. She had Lyme disease, probably contracted at the age of 14 when the Hart family briefly moved to Virginia in the US, a known Lyme hotspot. It had manifested itself as a severe bout of flu and, this being the 1980s, was left untreated. That wreaked havoc on her immune system and caused a number of secondary conditions.

So Hart’s book is about what she learned from being chronically ill and the thought processes, practices, and research that helped her recovery. Abandoned by doctors, Hart looked for answers in the self-help literature, which is extensively referenced and quoted here.

As is often the case with self-help, some advice is wise and scientifically based, while others are banal and blindingly obvious. Hart has organized what she learned into sections she calls “treasures.” These include the benefits of talking about your suffering (rather than trying to hide it), surrendering to a negative or challenging situation (rather than carrying on stoically), and the importance of self-compassion (rather than berating yourself for everything that happened). wrong).

In a story that moves between funny observation and corny truth (plus a series of fart jokes), Hart embraces the language of “living authentically,” understanding her “unique identity,” finding the “beloved and loving” person in herself and revealing her “wild, true self”. Hart plays the role of cheerful confidante, insisting on addressing the reader as “My Dear Reader Chum” (MDRC for short) and speaking of revealing moments in her learning process as “heavy revvies.” Depending on your temperament, this will delight or drive you crazy.

However, the altruism of the project is clear. I Haven’t Been Completely Honest With You isn’t just about Hart explaining her absence over the past decade. It is also an attempt to make the best of a terrible situation by coaching others who may be struggling with long-term health issues and the grief and loss of confidence that often accompanies them. It’s fine to consult a therapist about facing the physical symptoms of anxiety, for example, but sometimes you just want to hear from someone who’s been there.

Hart tells a different story here with a restraint that suggests even her tendency to overshare has its limits. A few years ago, at a time when she was almost resigned to remaining single, she tentatively started dating someone she called “The Boy.” Her story about slowly letting go of her guard, being vulnerable, and “opening the Heart-heart to love” is sweet and moving, and proof that happiness is possible even in the most difficult of times.