wake up call from my body
“This cannot be happening again, I’m supposed to be healed!” I yelled at myself inside of my head. I was in a room with bright fluorescent lights, staring disoriented at five other young girls as they yelled loudly and kicked a padded wall.
You see, the thing is, for two years I’d been able to perfectly manage my energy to the point where my body wasn’t having episodes, or collapsing to the ground unexpectedly. I had found that if I moved breath throughout my body in a certain way, and did visual meditations, and completely isolated myself from most everyone and everything, then my nervous system would calm down, and my body would be okay. I hadn’t had an episode in years. All I needed was writing, astrology, meditation, and a good friend or two to live this life as a healed, perfect person! Everything was going great.
That is, until I was at this self-defense class in downtown Salt Lake, and I kicked a mat on a wall, and was supposed to yell while I did it. I felt like my heart was about to explode.
As the anxiety grew within me, my gaze turned toward my instructor who was now holding a mat and telling us we were supposed to take turns kicking it and yelling at the same time. I watched as each girl ahead of me in line went and kicked it, and shouted their phrase of choice. Then suddenly it was my turn, and I stepped into the middle of the room, looking ahead at the woman with dark hair and kind eyes, admiring her strong body and stable stance. I compared it to mine, tiny & barely present, very intimidated by what she was asking me to do.
“Are you ready?” she smiled, unassuming, and I continued to stare at her, knowing I absolutely wasn’t, but my voice couldn’t express it to her. My stomach dropped as she began to walk forward with the mat.
“Sorry, I’m actually not!” I said quickly, turning around towards the back of the room, closing my eyes. What was my deal? I’d done way more physically intensive things than this. Why was this so difficult?
“Okay, it’s okay,” she said calmly, lowering the mat, letting me have my moment.
I took a couple deep breaths and turned back around, mustering up the courage to do what was asked of me. I looked at her sincerely and she asked me again if I was ready. I nodded.
She came towards me with the mat, I kicked, and a strong but faint “No!” came out of my mouth. The fear rose in me again, and I knew it hadn’t been as loud as the others, but I glanced up at her for her approval to see if it was good enough.
“Hey, that was the loudest I’ve heard you be all night, good work.” She confidently said to me with compassion, and I shyly smiled, walking to the back of the line. At this point my whole body was starting to shut down and I could feel it. I felt it, but wasn’t understanding. Why was it in so much fear? I tried to take deep breaths to regulate it.
“When was the last time my voice made loud guttural noises like that?” I thought to myself as I barely made it through class able to stand from so much physical stimulation. It bothered me. I couldn’t think of a time where I was required to be so intensely in my body at the same time as my voice being so loud.
I hopped in my car to go home that night, and as I drove, the answer soon came to me.
I sobbed for many minutes, realizing the last time I heard my voice so guttural and loud was that night. The night when I couldn’t control what was happening to my voice or my body.
The body keeps the score, and I’ve been ignoring and isolating it. I thought shamefully to myself, knowing that I’d done about every healing modality except the ones that involve being so heavily in my body. I thought about how I hadn’t had intimate physical touch in years, or at least the one night I tried, I sent the girl home within just minutes of her touching my skin, panicking. I had clocked in my head every time someone in my life had touched me so I could stay safe. This was not how I wanted to live anymore. It was a devastatingly harsh truth of the healing I had yet to do.
Thus began my intimidating healing journey of Jiu Jitsu.
