Last year I was a heap of depression. I was a 35-year-old new mother who suffered major complications after the delivery of my daughter. Those complications gave way to the aftershocks of PTSD and a heavy dose of postpartum depression. The dream of summer days spent enjoying my little one, taking long walks with the stroller, working the garden, and getting a night or two out with my partner were shattered into shards of anxiety, anger, lethargy, a deep mistrust of my own body. It was lonely, and it sucked the life out of me. I got real bitter before I got better.
My younger sister came to visit from California where she lives as a yoga instructor; reached out down to the depths of me and encouraged me to just "try" a yoga class. I was completely turned off, there was no way that I was going to Namaste my way out of the sinkhole that surrounded me. Or so I thought. She went back home and I spent a few more months in my misery until one evening I received a phone call from another friend asking me to join her for an all to early morning yoga class the next day. I accepted her invitation and the next day I found myself sweating and sliding across a yoga mat.
There were women twice my age holding poses as I flipped and flopped all over the floor. My sweat turned to tears as I realized how far I had fallen away from my body. Despite my poor performance something peaked my interest. I was moving through my body to reach my monkey mind. I felt just the slightest bit more settled after that first class, so I went back the very next day, and I have kept going back for five months now.
After the first week or two of scrambling to get a sitter so I could show up to the studio every day my life began to change. I was sleeping better, eating better, I had more patience for my children and for myself. Physically I was still not anywhere near the others in the class, but my mind started to calm down. My anxiety began to subside slowly. I was hooked.
I began a steady practice, missing perhaps one or two days per week. I tried all different kinds of yoga. Hatha, Vinyassa, Restorative, and Kundalini. Each class had its own unique benefits and I began to round out the rough edges in my head and in my heart. The studio where I practice noticed my dedication and asked me to intern; and now I have found a community amongst the other yogis from all walks of life. The teachers would begin and end each class in meditation and it was in those moments where all the physical work of yoga integrated into mental stability and calm. I began to emerge better than I was before my bout with depression.
Yoga and meditation has completely transformed me. Physically I am stronger, leaner, more flexible; my skin even glows. But inside, mentally is where the real change has occurred for me. I am quicker to note the positives in life before the negative. I am more kind to those closest to me. I want to help others achieve their goals. I think the practice allowed me to step outside of myself and become part of a bigger picture painted with patience, understanding, compassion, and endurance.
Where once I was skeptic, I am now an advocate. I have my sister and all the wonderful teachers to thank for that. They inspired me on my journey from "No Way, to Namaste"; and I am forever grateful.