But I work out regularly. I try to drink enough water. I definitely sleep a lot. I'm too young to feel this low on natural resources.

So when a friend suggested I embark on a 21-day journey with her via The Clean Program, I immediately recoiled in fear. A cleanse? A diet? No way.

Then she explained she'd completed the program before, lost a good amount of weight (bonus!) and felt completely re-energized. Re-energized? Now she had me interested. I just want to feel better. But more than anything, I want my stomach not to hurt. I've known I'm gluten intolerant for six years now, yet I can't manage to completely clean up my act.

Reluctantly, I fork over a large amount of cash and we agree on a Feb. 21 start date. Why did I choose The Clean Program over other "cleanses"? Because, unlike other popular programs, you can eat. And why would I pay so much? Well, I paid so much because I'm that willing to improve the quality of my daily life.

(Note: This article was not paid for by The Clean Program.)

Let me clarify: I've received flip-flop diagnoses my whole life of Irritable Bowl Syndrome, Crohn's Disease, Lactose Intolerance, Celiac Disease and — best of all — "too much stress." If you've ever felt this physically desperate, you'll know what I mean when I say that participating in a program of this sort isn't some new-age mumbo-jumbo but a genuine effort to right what's wrong in a body.

This isn't the Master Cleanse or a strictly liquid diet. I've tried those before and quit after bitchiness set in within two hours. This is a literal detox of your body by way of supplements, vitamins and "clean" foods selected from The Elimination Diet (think healthy fats, dark greens, non-glutenous grains). A day on the program consists of one shake in the morning (mine are pretty epic and incorporate heaps veggies and fruit), an "Elimination Diet lunch" and another shake for dinner.

I'm happy to report that after seven days on the cleanse, I feel infinitely better. You would be amazed to learn how immediately what you put in your body affects its functionality.

Now, that isn't to say this journey hasn't had its ups and downs. Pre-cleanse, I only drank one cup of coffee per day, but throughout Days 1, 2 and 3, I experience serious withdrawal symptoms: headaches, fatigue and flu-like body-aches. I was so shocked by how quickly toxins surfaced once I removed caffeine, gluten and dairy (among other things) that I contacted The Clean Program Support Center. A Wellness Coach named Jessi quickly responded to my query of "Is this normal?!" with more than enough information and reassurance to help me stay the path.

On Day 4, I go to a show at The Mohawk and feel more alert than I ever have on a regular Friday night with my previous diet and exercise routine. In the moment, I'm seriously so shocked, I can't stop talking about it to my friends who have joined me. They’re tired, buzzed and probably annoyed.

I wake up still feeling like a champ on Day 5. No headaches today. In the hours that follow, I have my first slip-up. It's a Saturday night, I'm at a bar, and I allow myself one teeny, tiny beverage (vodka and water with lime). I'm pretty damned proud of myself for turning down multiple samplings of East Side Kings that I consider this the lesser of two evils.

Day 6 is rough. Since it’s the weekend, I sleep in and don't have my shake as early as I normally do, which throws a wrench into my routine for the day. I get so lethargic that I go into Zen for a stir-fry while on South Congress. They assure me I’ve selected a gluten- and sugar-free dish. Big mistake. I can tell within hours that something within the dish does not agree with my body — probably some sort of highly processed oil. I never would have been able to identify without The Elimination Diet.

Day 7 is equally as difficult. I attend a business lunch so low on energy (sorry, Kevin) that I ask for extra avocado on my pitiful salad, hoping that the "good fat" will pick me up. That afternoon, I happily snack on some hummus (allowed) until I realize it contains bell peppers (not allowed), and I just want to throw in the towel. And cry. That night, I dream about donuts. (Seriously.)

But in the throes of frustration, I remind myself my stomach doesn't feel rotten anymore — and that in itself is something I’ve wished for my entire life. I’m also considering maintaining a somewhat Paleo diet post-cleanse, an idea I would have balked at a week ago.

It's becoming clear that there may be more at play than a gluten allergy, and day by day, I hope to figure more out. Though, tonight, I wouldn't be surprised if I dream about Pop Tarts.

I'm excited (and nervous) to see what the next 14 days will bring, slip-ups and all, and can't wait to report back to those of you also in crisis-health-mode.