The world was my oyster. But now, it just seems like a deathtrap everywhere I go. Ever since the panic of a pandemic swept the world, my PTSD symptoms have been back in full force. And I have been sitting with myself through this discomfort to the best of my ability. I have been listening to the aches of my body and treating it with kindness. All of the tools I learned on my journey to come back home to my body have never left my side. Until this past week or so. Today has been the first
I transformed this summer. I attended a 200-hour yoga teacher training, and I found a new love of myself, a new strength in myself, a new willingness to be vulnerable and authentic, to speak my voice. It was incredible. Going to sleep each night after the training, I'd lay there and listen to my breath and just notice -- woah, I feel different. It's confidence. It's courage. Genuinely. No more mask.
I am slowly healing, and that is something wonderful I need to remember as I have the
I've been feeling pretty despondent the past day or so, which usually means I'm trying to dissociate. It's a feeling of, I'm tired of feeling this way, so I'll just not be in my body. Sometimes being in my body is one of the unsafest feelings ever. Ever read The Host? Some type of alien takes over a body and lives inside. I remember the author describing sliding into their body, feeling each finger and toe as the alien grows these long tentacle-like neuron things and grows to feel familiar.