All your ideas sound like good ones. I want to especially encourage talking to your therapist about what happened, regardless whether it happens again--not necessarily in a "my PTSD messed up my yoga practice, how can we make that not happen again?" way, more in a "so I had this experience and I'm trying to process it" way. I also support letting your teacher know what's going on with you, discussing how it interacts with your practice--privately, and when you're feeling relatively safe and centered.
I've had emotional reactions in yoga class, including crying (in a hot yoga class, so at least the tears were unnoticeable in the general dripping with sweat) and mild panic attacks (freezing/involuntary tension, throat constricting, heart racing, tunnel vision). I've also been in a class, as a student or teacher, with a student who seemed to be emotionally affected. It's REALLY not uncommon. It also can feel awkward --or frustrating, scary, embarrassing, distracting... or healing, freeing, a relief; really intense, or no big deal...
The experience itself isn't any of those things, until we decide it is. It might be one sort of experience for you, and another entirely for your teacher or classmates. What felt socially awkward and personally difficult to you, they may have barely noticed, or attached a different value to. If you can, perhaps try accepting your teacher's response in that light: not her telling you how to feel about your experience, but letting you know how she sees it from outside.
I could write a lot about ways of thinking that have helped me with similar situations; it might or might not help you. The main ideas for me to remember are: (1)I'm allowedsupposed to take care of myself anyhow I need that doesn't interfere with someone else; (2)my goal/the "point of yoga" (for me) is to practice being present, mindful and compassionately nonjudgmental through whatever I experience, and all sorts of experiences (subjectively wonderful, awful, boring; formal asana/meditation/pranayama or any random time) can be valuable opportunities to practice (so I can be selective about ANYthing in support of (1)); (3) if I can't stay present, I can at least try to be mindful and nonjudgmental about that, take a break, and return to my practice when I'm ready.
no subject
I also support letting your teacher know what's going on with you, discussing how it interacts with your practice--privately, and when you're feeling relatively safe and centered.
I've had emotional reactions in yoga class, including crying (in a hot yoga class, so at least the tears were unnoticeable in the general dripping with sweat) and mild panic attacks (freezing/involuntary tension, throat constricting, heart racing, tunnel vision). I've also been in a class, as a student or teacher, with a student who seemed to be emotionally affected.
It's REALLY not uncommon.
It also can feel awkward --or frustrating, scary, embarrassing, distracting... or healing, freeing, a relief; really intense, or no big deal...
The experience itself isn't any of those things, until we decide it is. It might be one sort of experience for you, and another entirely for your teacher or classmates. What felt socially awkward and personally difficult to you, they may have barely noticed, or attached a different value to. If you can, perhaps try accepting your teacher's response in that light: not her telling you how to feel about your experience, but letting you know how she sees it from outside.
I could write a lot about ways of thinking that have helped me with similar situations; it might or might not help you. The main ideas for me to remember are: (1)I'm
allowedsupposed to take care of myself anyhow I need that doesn't interfere with someone else; (2)my goal/the "point of yoga" (for me) is to practice being present, mindful and compassionately nonjudgmental through whatever I experience, and all sorts of experiences (subjectively wonderful, awful, boring; formal asana/meditation/pranayama or any random time) can be valuable opportunities to practice (so I can be selective about ANYthing in support of (1)); (3) if I can't stay present, I can at least try to be mindful and nonjudgmental about that, take a break, and return to my practice when I'm ready.