When I was in high school I suffered from major panic attacks. It came to a peak during my sophomore and jr years and I became deeply depressed and really anxious in large crowds or social situations. I was really bored in classes and had a lot of turmoil at home to run in my mind during the day, or try to stuff it down. My parents had us so early they began experimenting with a lot of things around the age of 35 since they missed out on so many youthful learning stages. This meant many nights at home by ourselves until 3am, ordering pizza for dinner (i could never stand pizza after that) and hearing them come home and have loud sex or fights.
I began seeing the school counselor and joined his “girl group” in which about 6-8 girls would meet up in a class period with him to discuss our lives and support each other. We once all took a trip to take classes on “women’s studies” at the UH campus and came to find out it was mostly about lesbian studies. One of the girls was a lesbian and it was an opportunity for her to talk about it with us. I felt so bad that she was nervous to say anything. We really already knew but it didn’t make any difference to us, she’s a lovely person and I don’t see how sexual preference can ave any effect on that or why it would matter. But I realize what our counselor had done for her and I find that pretty beautiful.
Anyhow, my counselor would work a lot with me one on one, even after i graduated and was working i would go for counsel at the school on my lunch breaks. He even worked in the same school as my mother a year or so after i graduated, which i did early because he helped me get into the alternative school. My mother didn’t care for me talking to him and for while i respected her wishes, he didn’t care so much for her either. I would ask him all the time to be honest with me and if I’m being unreasonable or confused when it came to my mother. He reassured me I wasn’t. Once she even came in to talk with us and told him she thought I was just jealous of her because she was thin and i was….not.
There was absolutely nothing sexual or romantic about our relationship. He was a true MANtor and confidant. He taught me belly breathing to get though the panic attacks and avoid blacking out. I had horrific migraines and he would have me place my hands on his head and apply the pressure, like transferring the energy – it would actually work and I usually broke down into tears. Sometime after we began the girls group he said he wasn’t allowed to hug us any more and I couldn’t do the headache thing either.
During this time I also began trying antidepressants and anti anxiety meds. First zoloft and xanax which made me so woozy i had to steady myself against the walls as i walked between classes. Then paxil, which i also didn’t care for and didn’t seem to do anything but amplify the depression. I emancipated myself at the age of 17 to be able to afford to see another doctor and was prescribed prozac which i took for a couple of years and didn’t have too many side effects (now given under it’s other name, Fluoxetine, to most women for pms). But also I was out of the stale classrooms, had a full time and part time job (for socializing) and a full time class sched, mostly at night.
Early on in our time together, when I would go to see my counselor, we would chat and then he would send me to the nurses office to listen to a cassette on headphones in the “resting room”. In elementary school I was notorious for going to the nurse for not feeling well. She would have me gargle salt water then put me down for a nap. I was there almost every day but still managed the reputation and reports of an A+ student.
The tape he gave me was of a woman’s gentle voice guiding me through visualizations like floating on a cloud or down a river. Then she would name parts of the body sequentially from the head down and tell you to contract, release and breathe into the muscles as we went through each part of the body. It would always put me into a deep sleep and I would wake up feeling so much better and extremely refreshed.
A while after high school, when I was deep in my corporate experience, I would intermittently try to track down a copy of the tape to no avail. It wasn’t until after my move to austin and taking classes at my local yoga studio that I learned about ‘yoga nidra‘ or ‘yogic sleep’. It is an incredibly healing practice for all levels of vibration. It has many names like guided or deep relaxation, lucid dreaming practice, astral projection or out of body practice, progressive muscle relaxation, etc. One of the latest trends is iRest, like the iPhone, the name only identifies the market but its all the same theory and practice. One of the teachers from my teacher’s training course taught a class and it was just like the tape without the manual muscle contracting. Then she would play the gong near the end of the practice and I found a new high. The bell or chime at the end of the yoga class, when your body is open and receptive and you feel it ripple through your cells in sensational waves, is what got me addicted to yoga in the first place.
When god had me go into cam work I began to study the underlying practices and routines of men as a herd. One thing they loved to do was what i’ll call “written seduction”. This is where, because they are using a messaging medium, write a detailed (or somewhat detailed) script of their foreplay moves to attempt to seduce me. They would always begin with touching my hair or face, then kissing me, kissing my neck, to my arms and breast, to my belly, to my hips, caressing my legs then hitting the hot spot. Minor variations but all the same sequence. It was glaringly obvious that they were using me as an avatar or attractive substitute to relax themselves naturally, much like a yoga nidra class. It’s fascinating how “survival of the fittest” plays out in such masked and underhanded moves ;) it got pretty twisted in the Piscean age. You are connected more than you realize, your prejudice may be blinding your view and dominating your perspective.