I thought I was stressed in grade 12. I thought that all those assignments, exams and what I was going to wear to formal was going to be the pinnacle of my stress throughout my entire life. And then I moved out, got a sales job, started uni and realised that there are a few more things that can make your life a whole lot more stressful.
So now I’ve realised that this is what adult life is like: washing eight loads of laundry, cooking three meals a day that don’t just come out of the microwave and try and convince people to buy things they don’t need. I’ve decided to seek a way to lower my levels of stress so that I don’t spontaneously combust and die.
Due to my evergrowing stress I find it very difficult to sleep. Sometimes I’m awake for so long I make it look like insomnia is a profession I have a PhD in. But I realised that I only stress when I have time to. You see the thing about my stress is that it derives from things that most of the time aren’t even tangible. I overthink so much that I create problems for me to stress about. I can turn a problem that could easily be fixed in minutes into one that last months because I let the issue sit in my brain like a tea bag left to brew for too long.
So I tried yoga as a way to combat stress. Now I’ve never been particularly fond of the idea of yoga and meditation. Both my parents and younger sister swear by it and practice it almost daily but the times I’ve tried it all I could think of was how much the room smelt like feet. But I was ready to try anything to rid my body of the little ball of stress that had set up camp and decided to live in the pit of my stomach.
So on a Tuesday morning I walked from the impossibly hot heat of Brisbane, into a yoga studio in the city that was, somehow, even hotter. As I pulled the class timetable from my pocket that was now soggy from a mixture of humidity and probably my own sweat I kicked myself. For someone who loves reading I’d missed out a pretty large component of the yoga class I booked myself into, ‘HOT BIKRAM YOGA’. As I turned around to make a swift exit out of this heated room from hell the instructor spotted me.
“First time?” He asked me.
The fact I was wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and the tortured expression on my face probably confirmed this.
“You’ll be fine, just give it a go. My favourite thing about yoga is that you can just be free, there’s no commitment, I’m not big on commitment.”
This made me feel slightly more inclined to stay, however ‘Matt’ the yogi instructor did have a huge neck tattoo in Chinese writing so I’m not sure his levels of commitment were anything to go off.
Thirteen minutes into the class and I was already planning on whether it was more realistic to fake a broken arm or a broken leg. I get that you’re supposed to sweat a lot in hot yoga in order to rid yourself of toxins and what not. But it was so hot in there that I sweated out half my organs and think I was dehydrated for the next week. It was very difficult to be calm and stress free when I was drowning in my own perspiration.
So yoga is off the list, I said goodbye to no-commitment-neck-tat Matt and I've decided to try and find other ways to reduce my stress.