Barely into my 20s, I experienced my first heartbreak with a boyfriend I had thought I was meant to love a lifetime.
I was young and naive. Full of ideals and fantasies. But we had different stories, different attachments and so, eventually it had to end.
Little by little, I began to realize our belief systems no longer aligned with each other. My life was moving forward. His was staying in place—in my opinion that is. So, no matter how in love we were, the relationship was not going to work.
I was heartbroken. I never thought I’d find the love of my life again.
And how could I feel so strongly about someone who could not jump off the big cliff called life with me? Was this a cosmic joke? I had come so close to a love I believed was pure and real, only to discover it wasn’t meant to last.
I moved to LA. He stayed back east. And we continued to torture each other over the phone until one day, just like that, it was over. Done.
I never saw him again.
There was no real ending. No peace. No grace to the finality. And I believe an ending like that did unspeakable damage to my soul.
Overnight I went numb. Disconnected. Disassociated from reality. I couldn’t cry. I had no idea what was happening to me. I was young and as I said, naive.
It was as if someone had shut the circuit breaker off inside of me and no one was home.
I’d walk into rooms of people never knowing where I was. I desperately wanted to connect, but had no idea how.
I felt lost.
I went to therapists, healers, shamans—you name it. No one could help me get to the root of my suffering or my disassociation.
I walked through my 20s and most of my 30s completely disconnected from my body. Men, women, relationships in general were superficial and didn’t last. I knew deep down there was something wrong with me.
I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t taste. I couldn’t love.
For years, I lived with this condition I called disconnectedness.
Finally, I tried yoga. Not with the intention of connecting at first, but miracles do happen. As I began dig deeper, my shell started to soften. Like layers of an onion, my skin started to peel away.
And when my hardened exterior began to melt away, feelings finally rose to the surface—emotions I didn’t want to deal with. Sensitivities I did know I had.
At first, it was subtle. In fact, I may not even have noticed. But as the days turned into months and the months turned into years, I began to see a shadow of myself lying next to me with light pouring out of my heart.
And you know what? There was no way I was going back in my box, soulless and alone.
Yoga, which had first sounded like the perfect new solution for maintaining a tight butt, helped reintegrate my spirit and connect me back to myself and back to my life.
I can now enjoy the taste of foods and the simple pleasures of life, like my three-year-old bossing me around or my husband and I cracking ourselves up over the same dumb-ass jokes.
I can finally see light.
I have just shared my experience with disconnection. Have you ever felt disconnected or disembodied? What did it feel like for you? Were you scared? I would love to hear from you, please leave your comments in the box below.
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Ed: B. Bemel
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