Depressed College Student to Yogi

This article is written by guest contributing writer Morgan Stritzinger

Picture given by Morgan Stritzinger

When I was in high school, I often heard the sentiment, “College is the best four years of your life.” I digested those words eagerly, imagining college would be four years filled with new friends and adventures.

Unfortunately my college experience was shy of the high bar I had set. The dormitory floor I lived on was full of upperclassmen that had no interest in befriending freshmen. My roommate’s parents lived close by and she went home any chance she could, so I was alone in my dorm room often.

In the dining halls, everyone ate in groups while I got takeout to eat in my room. I walked through friend groups scattered across the quad, extremely self-conscious of walking alone. I watched girls outside my building take pictures before a night out while my big plans for the night were to watch Friends reruns. Had I missed the invite to the friend-making segment of orientation?

Through the lens of social media, it looked like my high school friends were having the best time of their lives. They posted pictures of new friends, parties and tailgates. I was convinced that I was the only person who wasn’t thriving in college.

I have dealt with manageable anxiety my entire life, but my newfound loneliness led to a depression that hit me hard. I woke up in the middle of the night with anxiety attacks. A cloud of sadness hung over me every day.

I called my mom a lot and found any excuse to go home for the weekend. I began visiting the gym frequently to get out of my dorm room and be around other people. I yearned for anything that didn’t make me feel alone.

By the second semester of my freshman year, I made some friends and began to find my footing. However, the anxiety that developed over the first months of the school year still crippled me. I didn’t feel settled or secure.

The summer after my freshman year, the thought of returning to campus loomed over me. My physician prescribed me an anti-depressant medication. The panic attacks went away but the anxiety was constant.

When I returned back to school that fall, I heard about yoga and its positive impact on mental health. It all sounded a bit “woo woo” to me, but at that point, I was desperate enough to try anything.

I was too anxious to go to a class on my own, so I talked my mom into going with me on a trip home. We set up our mats at the back of the studio and had no idea what to expect. Class started, and the instructor told us to bring our awareness to our breath.

The teacher instructed us to feel the rise of our bellies with each inhale, and the fall with each exhale. It was hard because I associated breathing with panic attacks. My breaths were shallow, but I was breathing.

Paying attention to my breath got a little easier each class. I began to connect to my breath instead of seeing it as the enemy. I fell in love with the practice and the way it made me feel. I started to see myself through a lens of compassion.

I finally understood that it’s okay if college isn’t the best four years of your life. Some people thrive in a college setting, and that’s lovely for them. I thrive at the yoga studio. It was my outlet and safe space during my last three years of college.

I completed yoga teacher training so I could share the practice with those who suffer from anxiety and depression. My path to teaching yoga wasn’t glamorous, but I wouldn’t change any part of my journey. It has allowed me to be a compassionate teacher. It is a gift to be able to share the practice that brought a sense of clarity and peace into my life that I didn’t think was possible.

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To connect and learn more from Morgan check out her personal blog is Finding My Om and Instagram: @findingmyom