The Yoga Diaries: Finding worth through grief and trauma

Trigger Warning: This article deals with the topic of suicide.

by Christine Boyd Miller, PhD

Sisters Ellen & Christine

My sister Ellen died by suicide two months ago. She drove into an oak tree at 90 miles an hour. Her death was instant but she had struggled desperately her whole life from abuse, trauma, and mental illness. Her condition was degenerative and promised to eat away at her through a slow and increasingly painful existence. Even though the threat of her young death by suicide or some tragic accident loomed over us for years, her sudden exit from this world split through me like lightning.

Ellen was my very best friend, my big sister by only a year. Our entire lives we’ve known every detail of each other, kept each other’s innermost secrets. I mean the really horrid stuff, the stuff you don’t tell anybody ever. We knew all that stuff about each other. We didn’t judge; we’d been through hell together. We loved each other unconditionally and wholly. We were mutually closer to each other than to anyone else in the world. Her death utterly broke me.

The autopsy report states the cause of death to have been internal decapitation. That’s when the spinal column separates from the skull base resulting in immediate death. Striking a tree at 90mph will do that. “Internal decapitation” – her death and all the horror that preceded it summed up in two words. These eight syllables, in-ter-nal de-cap-i-tation, in-ter-nal de-cap-i-ta-tion, repeat in my head over and over and over again, trapped there like a bad monotonous song lyric.

It took me a month to get to a yoga class after Ellen died, my body weak from grief and self-neglect. I cried through the whole class and went through the motions but my heart and mind weren’t in it. Or maybe they were and my body wasn’t. Maybe that was the problem. My mind and heart sat with my present grief while my body moved on invisible puppet strings in some other dimension. During silent Shavasana, a screaming train of painful thoughts hurtled through my mind. All I could think about was my beautiful, sweet sister and her life of pain; fighting visions of her barreling into a tree seeing no other options, the crash photos and visit to the tree still so fresh in my mind. I sobbed the whole way through Shavasana. By the end, I felt emotionally spent. It took a couple of days to recover mentally from that class. It was heavy.

Something else happened at yoga class that day too though, something positive. Instead of my teacher Juko asking us to set our intentions at the beginning of class as she usually does, she asked us to think of an “I am” statement and repeat that to ourselves. I was stumped trying to come up with any kind of meaningful “I am” statement. All that came to mind was, “I am tired,” “I am sad,” “I am a piece of shit,” etc., nothing nice. Juko gave some examples: “I am whole,” “I am enough,” “I am present.” They all sounded nice but none of them applied to me, at least not that day.

Usually, my intention is to practice self-care, which feels like well-intended bullshit because I really don’t take very good care of myself, especially these days. I try but my success rate is pretty low. Then I have the usual dialogue with my brain about being present and that getting on my mat is self-care and that is what matters.

I couldn’t say, “I am self-care” but I could say, “I am worthy of self-care” and of showing myself the same level of love I show my family. So my running mantra to myself through class that day was, “I am worthy; I am worthy.” It helped to think of my intention in terms of “I am.” I felt ownership over my intention. There’s power in that.

My sister spent the last twenty minutes of her life with Shayna, a Good Samaritan, who picked her up on the side of the road – suffering and in a state of psychosis – and drove her to a hospital. Shayna’s intention to help and comfort Ellen was so pure, so generous. She saw that Ellen was in need and completely worthy of love and kindness. She stepped up, no judgment, no expectations. She treated my sister with dignity and respect. When they arrived at the hospital, Shayna went inside to get help, thinking her car would stay in park if she kept the key with her. My sister realized where they were and jumped into the driver’s seat. She found the nearest straightaway and drove Shayna’s car into a tree about a mile from the hospital.

Shavasana (Sanskrit: शवासन; IAST: śavāsana), Corpse Pose, or Mrtasana, is an asana in hatha yoga that is often practiced at the end of a session. It is the usual pose for the practice of yoga nidra meditation.

Yoga nidra is a meditative state in which the body is completely relaxed, and the practitioner becomes systematically and increasingly aware of the inner world by following a set of verbal instructions.

Ellen refused hospitalization vehemently and her future, had she survived, would have been one of eventual homelessness and degenerative mental illness. She saw her open road and death was it, her only option to be free from pain and suffering. She was worthy of that freedom.

When I think about my own worthiness, my “I am” statement, I realize how easily it transfers to “she is” or “you are.” We are all worthy of grace and love and kindness, whether it comes in the form of practicing selfcare, showing compassion to a stranger, or carrying out a final act of mercy.

Yesterday, I had sort of a breakthrough at yoga. It was the first time I’ve actually looked forward to going since Ellen died. I went in with fairly low expectations but also with hope and a little more clarity about this idea of worthiness. I’ve accepted that I am worthy of being a little nicer to myself. Whether or not I follow through, I am worthy.

This time, when Juko cued us to consider our “I am” statements, I assumed the word worthy would pop into place but instead I heard the word “trying.” I felt joy when I took ownership of that statement. Despite all of my failures, all of my grief, dammit I am trying. I tried on my mat that day too. I held my planks an extra breath or two and sweated. I was focused on my posture in each position. During Shavasana, I focused on my breathing and being present. The train of thoughts running through my head quieted. Thoughts came through. I focused on my breath. Thoughts passed.

Now when those eight piercing syllables start repeating in my head, “in-ter-nal de-cap-i-ta-tion; in-ter-nal de-cap-ita-tion,” I say to myself even louder “I am trying; I am trying” until those are the only eight syllables I can hear. I believe these words as they go through my head because they are true. I’m doing the best that I can. I am trying; I am trying. There is so much relief in that. “I am” trying.

I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.

- Hafez of Shiraz

Get Help

If you are someone you love needs help, call or text these helplines:

You can text 741741 in the US or UK

You can text 686868 in Canada

suicidepreventionlifeline.org In the US call 1-800-273-8255

YouthLine Text teen2teen to 839863 or call 1-877-968-8491

In Australia call Lifeline on 13 11 14 or visit www.lifeline.org.au/gethelp

Click below for a listing of worldwide suicide hotlines outside the US:

http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html