As many of you already know, I'm currently on a mission to find fulfilment and a sense of purpose in my life.

They do drag on a bit these spiritual journeys, it's like travelling by Virgin train; you're not totally sure if, never mind when, you'll arrive at your destination and you know it won't be a smooth ride but you pack your bags and buy your ticket with a heart full of hope anyway.

It's all about intention; you may never get all the answers, but you can at least get on the train.

I'm hungry for change, so I've been clearing out my house; if it's not beautiful or practical, it's gone. Nothing is safe, I'm being totally ruthless. My wardrobe has really suffered. Anything that I've kept hoping for a fashion revival, like my biker jacket which I've had since I was fifteen but didn't even wear when they finally did become cool again last year, is no longer welcome.

Or, if I wore something with an ex-lover who dumped me, it's out of here, (that's half my wardrobe gone right there.) Also, as I've got thinner through muscle wastage from being in a chair over the past five years, I've kept a lot of stuff hoping I'd get a bit fuller again, so I've whittled that lot right down, I figure if I do miraculously get my body back, what a good excuse to go shopping (like I need an excuse) and I could go to proper women's stores again too.

In the past year I've had to buy most of my tops from children's clothes shops as my size is no longer a happy "8" but a rather depressing "age 11". Well, at least kids' clothes are cheaper, even if they do mainly feature animals and slogans in bright pink sequins.

It's liberating having less stuff, it makes it easier to think. I've been thinking all sorts of things in my newly spring cleaned house and sometimes these thoughts do not involve chocolate covered honey-comb snacks. But mostly they do.

I am really trying to train myself to think of more important things than Maltesers but at the moment, I don't always manage to completely eradicate the image of those tantalising, spherical delights from my mind's eye.

One day however, those light and crunchy little devils will torment me no more and my columns will be filled with nothing but word upon word of inspirational wisdom because once I discover the meaning of life, I fully intend to share the revelation. So, all you lot have to do is sit back and think of Maltesers.

At this point, you may be thinking I've gone Malteser mad, that I'm losing my thread/the plot/my grip. Here I am, writing about spiritual train journeys, spring-cleaning and my obsession with confectionary, what kind of a minor celeb am I?! Where's the glamour? Where's the disability angle? What's going on?!

The truth is, I have gone a bit loop the loop, but it is my firm belief that you have to lose the plot to find it; you have to be free of certain society-inflicted constraints and routines to find out more about your true self.

I've made some radical changes in my life and I'm living in a way which is considered by society to be abnormal, even worrying. A couple of months ago, I wrote a letter to all my closest friends and family saying I wouldn't be in contact with them for six months.

I realised I spent a lot of time focusing on them and getting involved with their dramas but I wasn't expressing how I felt, so everyone assumed I was fine and so did I, because when you don't talk or think about things that niggle you, for a while you can deny they exist.

There were times when I felt unhappy but I didn't really want to focus on why. Then one day I suddenly realised that I wasn't fully connecting with myself and I had to do something drastic if I was to avoid a cataclysmic depression or mental breakdown.

My main problem was, I wasn't accepting or fighting my disability, I was in limbo. I felt I had to deal with it one way or the other; love it or lose it, and to do this I needed clear mental focus, no distractions.

For the first few days of my self-imposed reclusion, I really missed seeing and talking to my friends and my Mum, who I usually speak to at least once a day, and I did fear that I would be forgotten and that I might even lose friends by doing this. However, my bigger fear was losing myself so really, I had no choice.

After a week, I was feeling much less stressed because I only had to worry about myself. My friends have written, e-mailed and texted me their support and I was surprised how many of them understood unquestioningly what I needed to do.

In fact, although none of them are disabled, many of them want to do the hermit thing themselves after I report back how it worked for me.

I am working so you'll still see me on TV etc. The next "That's Esther" is on Sunday the 9th June and will feature my report on trying to get into acting as a disabled actress, (sorry to have misinformed you that it was going out last Sunday but apparently The World Cup's to blame for inconsistencies in the ITV schedule.)

More ruminations and revelations in a fortnight. Namaste.