Yoga and Antidepressants

In early March, a blogger, yoga teacher, and speaker named Hemalayaa wrote a blog post about "Yoga Teachers on Antidepressants." Although I didn't get to read the post and it has since been taken down because of the backlash it received, my understanding is that the gist of this post was that yoga teachers shouldn't be on medication for mental and/or emotional issues.

She said that yoga teachers shouldn't just go on a "happy pill" instead of working through their issues, and that they should treat their depression and/or anxiety with yoga, dance, deep breathing, hot baths, walks outside, etc.  

Obviously, this post didn't go over well because of the judgmental tone and misunderstanding of depression and mental illness, and along with removing it, Hemalayaa has issued an apology on her blog. 

But, Hemalayaa's post is not what I want to talk about today. What I want to share is my own story with meds, and although it makes me feel scared and vulnerable, I think that as a yoga teacher with some experience in this area, it's worth sharing: 

In October 2012, Ben and I got married. In November 2012, my stepmom, Anita, lost her long battle with Ovarian Cancer. In December 2012, my mom went into a manic state (she has always struggled with mental illness) that lasted over 4 months and resulted in a lot of horrible things that I won't get into. 

The holiday season was hard, to say the least, and then it was a new year and things picked up and life + work got really, really busy and challenging. 

I reached a point where I was so over-scheduled and overworked, and my emotions were so frayed and so raw, that I was in a constant state of jittery anxiety and panic. I was overwhelmed and barely staying afloat, and no amount of yoga, meditation, deep breathing, or legs-up-the wall could help. 

So, in late January 2013, I went to therapy for the first time since high school. I didn't know what else to do; I was feeling so low and so out of control that I knew I wouldn't be able to continue to function at a normal level without some help. [Some of you may remember my subsequent blog post about my love of therapy--I'm a big fan!]

I walked into my first appointment and within a few minutes of talking, I was sobbing. The floodgates had opened and I was a mess. 

I was still a yoga teacher, I was still practicing regularly (almost every day at this time), and I was using all of the tools in my toolbelt to try and stay as calm, mindful, and relaxed as possible, but it just wasn't enough. 

Therapy helped, but within my first few visits, my therapist suggested I see a psychiatrist for my anxiety. My immediate response was "No, I'm not a meds person."

Mental illness runs in my family, many of my family members have been on meds for as long as I can remember (my mom being the primary example here), and since being put on anti-depressants for a brief stint in high school--when I struggled with an eating disorder, among other issues--I had always vowed that I would never go there again. 

Yet here I was. 

So, after a bit of convincing on my therapist's part, I agreed to meet with a psychiatrist to discuss options, although I was adamant that I wouldn't go on meds because "I was above that" and "didn't need medicine to get a handle on my emotions." I could do that myself...right? 

Long story short, I eventually agreed to try a very small dosage of an antidepressant to help with my debilitating anxiety. 

The psychiatrist explained it to me like this: The chemicals in my brain had gotten off balance due to all of the emotional challenges that I was currently going through. As someone who has a tendency towards anxiety and depression, my chemicals are easily thrown off balance, but this time around, my body was under too much stress to balance them out on it's own. A low dosage of medication would help to level out those chemicals, get me back to my baseline, and then once stable, I could go off of them again. Like crutches for someone who has broken her foot. 

Although I didn't want to do it, I was just lost and desperate enough that I agreed. And guess what? It helped. A lot. Fairly quickly. 

In about 2 months, I felt like myself again. I was doing the work in weekly therapy sessions, I was still practicing yoga and meditating and breathing deeply, but also, I had a little chemical help for my off-balance brain. I wasn't a dumbed-down, overmedicated, happy pill enthusiast--I was still anxious and a bit stressed out (which is just a part of my baseline)--but I was myself again. I wasn't completely lost and overwhelmed and hopeless anymore.

And less than a year later, I was off of the meds. Things were great, I felt like I didn't need them anymore, I went off slowly with the help of a doctor, and I haven't looked back. 

I know that antidepressants are controversial in our country, and rightly so. I also know that my experience isn't representative of everyone's experience, and that each person has a different story when it comes to meds, depression, anxiety, etc. 

I also really appreciated the recent NYT article, Medicating Women's Feelings, and I agree with the author's fear that way too many Americans (and especially women) are on antidepressants and anti-anxiety meds for way too long (worth a read!). But I definitely don't think that we can make blanket statements about yoga and meds, or say that as yogis, we should be embarrassed if we need some help. 

If nothing else, what I want to make clear is this: I am a yoga teacher who believes in the healing power of yoga, and for around 11 months in 2013, I was on medication for severe anxiety. Dancing and hot baths weren't enough, and as much as I love holistic practices and Eastern medicine, I came to a point where I needed Western medicine to give me a hand while I sorted things out. 

At the time that I went on meds, I was embarrassed and I felt like a fraud, but I did it, because I was lost and nothing else was helping. The professionals who I trusted told me that it would help and that it was temporary, and it did and it was and I'm glad that I did it.

So, there you go. If you're reading this, and you're a yogi or a yoga teacher who struggles with your feelings around this subject, I want you to know that I'm with you, I've been there, and sometimes it's just a part of the journey. Sometimes our yoga and meditation practices are enough, and sometimes they're not. 

I am so glad that Hemalayaa's blog post opened up this dialogue, because I think it's one worth discussing in the yoga world, even though it's touchy and scary and controversial. 

And remember, above all else, yoga is about unity, accepting one another, love, and compassion--and I think that is where we should go when it comes to all topics, controversial or not.