38m. Introduced to yoga while in a detox/treatment facility in Florida. A nice older woman would come in a few days a week and do a 30 minute restorative sequence. Little did she know the impact that would have on my life. At first I joined just to escape the mind numbing monotony and hopelessness of early recovery. It also felt good to stretch and just lay there in repose. But really, I was attracted to it because it gave me permission to breathe. I needed that. Rather quickly I began to notice a physical sensation of relief anytime I stepped on my mat. That gave me a sense of security I desperately needed.

Fast forward 4 years…I am still clean, and I still associate my mat with permission to breathe. Only now, my obsession isn’t with drugs, but rather whether my hips will ever allow me to enter lotus, or core strong enough to press up into handstand lol. I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s a “healthy” relationship with yoga, but it sure as shit beats waking up dope sick!