Okay, If you read this blog, you know that I was raped in 2012 by a friend that I was traveling with. You know that it took me almost 9 months to finally gain the balls to break away from the situation and 7 months after I left to confront him over email about the abuse. It took me 2 years to finally tell a trained psychologist and 4 1/2 years from the time that it happened to finally gain the courage to tell the police.
During all of that time- I felt like a leaf in the wind. Or perhaps a more accurate description would be that I felt like a dead body being tossed between raging waves and a sharp rocky cliff in the ocean. Directionless yet again. Hell, I was so dissociated from my body and my life in every single way possible. I thought that there was no coming back from this ever. And that was all the aftermath.
During the 9 months I had been traveling with him, I had been dealing with such horrible dissociation, depersonalization and derealization. I couldn’t think and I never really spoke much. Since March of 2012 when it happened- I felt like I had no voice. I felt worse than dead. I felt like I was in a living nightmare and I couldn’t tell anyone.
By the time I was able to finally put the pieces back together again, it was late September in Asheville, North Carolina. He had gone away to a meeting with his teacher Drunvalo Melkizidek. And I was finally alone with myself- free of him. So this is where yoga comes in.
Aright- I took my first yoga class in school 2007/2008. I was signed up for a full year. At first, I thought it was just an easy extracurricular activity to score an easy A on my report card. I remember going home from school after taking my first class completely convinced that this was the path I wanted to take in life, something in me was inspired. I wasn’t flexible, couldn’t touch my toes and I wasn’t strong- but I was driven. Driven and angsty. And I had for a long time placed that drive into an eating disorder, and getting high off of whatever. So- that was me at 17. That should paint the picture nicely.
Cut back to 2012- During the time he was away, I’d wake up before the sun came up while the stars were still out and I would play Seane Corns “Body Prayer” video on repeat. I’d light a candle and let the movements do their work. I was so inspired by Seane at the time- and much later on I’d actually get the chance to study with her.
Still in Asheville, I began practicing everyday- once at 6 am before work, and in the evening after work. (Thanks to my girl Holly for letting me steal her car to get to the studio everyday). I began to feel a little stronger and a little more disciplined. I began to feel that desire for this path again- finally some type of inspiration. I knew I just wanted to live the life of a yogini….. no shit, did I just say I wanted to live? Hmmm. I guess I did.
I moved home. As some of you know from this blog- the last time I ever saw him was around Christmas time in 2012, and if you recall- it was here that he came to Utah, tried to manipulate me and pull me back into this abusive pattern yet again. I finally found the ground to tell him to leave and never come back.
It was in January and February of 2013 that I went to Bikram classes twice a day, I got a job and began looking into various training programs around the State. By march I was signed up and attending as many classes as I could possibly handle. Sometimes 4-5 classes. I needed it to survive and eventually I came to survive out of a genuine love for my life again.
I enrolled in the 1,000 hr training. April 1st to November 30th 2013. I spent every penny I was making on this training and was back living in my dads basement.
When I wasn’t working- I spent all of my time at the studio. Pretty sure the owner joked that I was a fixture. During the first month at Centered City Yoga, I was introduced to the practice of Ashtanga. Mysore- It was hard, frustrating- infuriating sometimes- but it became my daily practice to this day. I was dedicated.
My practice is the system of Ashtanga Yoga. I have been practicing everyday- except moon days ever since.
Yoga was the thing that allowed me to feel again, it gave me fire to make it through the hardest days of my life. It took me a long time to gain enough discipline to practice away from the Mysore room. Yoga became my meditation, my strength, my comfort, my grace- my saving grace- but most importantly yoga gave me ownership over my body again.