Author

Heather Loeb

For decades I've struggled with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, avoidant personality disorder, dysthymia and an eating disorder. I pen my misadventures here, but you can also find my column in the Corpus Christi Caller-Times (caller.com). Thanks for reading and for your support.

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Real Me vs. Depressed Me

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

This past two weeks have been amazing. My demeanor has changed. My mood has lifted. And I’m able to do things that were near impossible before. The ECT treatment I had two weeks ago must have been a good one. I’ve seen a glimpse of my authentic self, who wants so badly to be set free from wherever she goes when a depressive episode hits. Before this past ECT, I was suicidal. I was unbelievably sad and anxious. I thought I was doing OK but I can see now that I wasn’t.

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I didn’t recognize this feeling of joy and happiness, and I can’t tell you the last time I felt it either. I’m more familiar with “Depressed Me,” a slower, sadder, less efficient version of me, riddled with depression symptoms, who seems to be the reigning champion of my brain. But now that I am feeling happy and I see the “Real Me,” I’m going to fight tooth and nail for it. I refuse to go down without a fight. How I’m feeling and what I’m able to do right now — that’s worth fighting for.

In the mornings, I don’t immediately feel weighed down and already exhausted before even starting my day. I have energy and am excited about the day. The chores and tasks I absolutely have to get done don’t seem so taxing and annoying. Showering is now relaxing and not a daunting chore I’d put off for days (yes, days!). I don’t feel the need to stuff with my face with food that I don’t want or need, which is a battle for most everyone. I’m more cheerful and attentive to my kids. The Real Me is kind of a badass.

I could name so many more examples. I don’t know if it was the last ECT. I don’t know if it was a new medication I started the same day as my last ECT. I don’t know how long this will last, but again, I gotta make hay while the sun shines. And I have to fight.

Fighting looks like me not solely depending on my medication and ECT treatments. It means exercising, going to bed early, eating healthily, keeping a strict routine and reaching out the minute I feel like things are slipping. It sounds like a lot, or maybe it doesn’t, but I’m done with my rebellious, depressed part of me that refuses to comply with even the simplest of instructions.

When I’m not handicapped by severe depression, I’m so powerful. I radiate love and happiness. My writing flows onto paper, because my words are powerful, too. I utilize my limitless ability to care for my loved ones. I’m able to reach my full potential, instead of being a shadow or fraction of my true self. Like the phoenix, I am rising and there’s not a whole lot that can stop me.

Here are some examples of what the Real Me versus the Depressed Me are like:

The Real Me exercises, reaches out to friends, eats healthy foods, writes/blogs, goes outside, puts the TV remote down, reads for pleasure, sings all day (to the point where her family complains), cooks, bakes, showers, brushes her teeth, laughs loudly, plays with her kids even more, styles her hair, gets massages (or goes to any self-care appointment).

Depressed Me sleeps more, watches TV until having to get the kids, endlessly scrolls social media, gets in bed until she absolutely has to move, doesn’t shower, blows off doctors appointments, gives into sadness/anxiety, doesn’t smile as much, has a short fuse, is impatient and more.

Depressed Me goes to sleep at night because she can’t stand to be awake one second longer than she has to. She’s judgmental and mean about her appearance and body.

The Real Me looks forward to the future but enjoys the present.

I’m certainly enjoying right now, and although I’m cautious about the future, my outlook is finally optimistic.

As I’m writing this, I’m hoping that you don’t get the wrong idea about Depressed Me. While I would love not to experience depression and anxiety, I respect Depressed Me. She fights hard and doesn’t give into her suicidal thoughts. She’s a fighter. She’s scrappy. She has grit, and without her efforts, the Real Me wouldn’t appreciate what it’s like to be happy.

For that, I’m grateful.

To learn more about major depression and signs of depression, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness website.

If you or a loved one is experiencing suicidal thoughts, please call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or visit the website here.

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In A Nutshell

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I decided I’d write a blog every Sunday detailing my week and exploring my progress with depression. You’re not in for a treat with this one. Sorry!

I’m feeling sorry for myself today. It doesn’t happen often, but it sure sucks when it does. I keep thinking, “Why do I have to struggle so much? Why can’t I go longer than three weeks being happy and active?”

I realize others have it worse than I do and that puts things in perspective— for about a minute or two. I’m grateful for the happy times I have and that ECT even works for me but god it feels so awful when the happy emotions leave my body and all that’s left is despair and dread.

Fuck depression.

I know I’ll feel better. I’m getting an ECT tomorrow, so I’m sure I’ll have some relief. I just wish I didn’t have to go under general anesthesia and have a seizure to get it.

I’m not going to say anymore because I just don’t have anything nice to say.

Here’s to a new week. A new me.

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Another Day of Self Loathing

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I’ve had some pretty good days recently, but like everybody else, I’ve had some not-so-great ones, too. Like today.

It started the minute I woke up. I could feel the dark cloud hanging over my head. My fuse was already short. I didn’t feel the surge of energy I’ve had lately, and all my limbs felt extremely heavy.

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I gave into the children’s request to get donuts, even though it was a school day. As soon as I finished my bag of donut holes, I knew that the day was going to steamroll me. And I let it.

The donuts didn’t satisfy me like I thought they would, nor did they give me a pick me up. They just reminded me of my recent weight gain and all the other poor decisions I’ve made. The self loathing was on full blast now.

I wanted energy, so I chugged Diet Cokes until my stomach hurt. The only thing I got in return was more self loathing. I was supposed to quit Diet Coke last year but didn’t last a month or two. Sigh.

By the time I got the kids dropped off, my blood was boiling. I recoiled when people would speak to me, and after I did a little writing, I retreated to the couch where I turned the TV on. I had been craving alone time all week but I felt restless and unsatisfied.

For some reason, I decided to order a pizza, even though I didn’t really want it. I felt terrible, mentally and physically, after just one slice. I tried to scrub my bad decisions and terrible mood off in the shower, to no avail.

I tried to rally before picking up the kids but even my Adderall* was no match for my mood. I went through the motions of the rest of the day, trying not to snap at my family.

I put Eli down (David’s with Isla) and I have some time to myself again. Literally, all I can think about is getting donuts tomorrow despite just recounting my shitty day, which began with seemingly innocent donut holes. Sometimes I really am a glutton for punishment.

Thank God I have an ECT on Monday. I hope they can reset my short-circuiting brain and help me forget this feeling — like I’m drowning in a sea of self hatred. And there’s nobody to save me. Therein lies the problem with depression — sometimes we’re our own captors, fueled by a faulty brain, sure — but I’m the one holding my head under right now.

I have actual plans in place for these types of days, such as a self-care checklist, but it’s so much easier to give way to the “Depressed Me” — or is it?

Monday can’t come soon enough. Because of the ECT and because the donut store is closed.

Download my self-care checklist below:

Self-Care-Checklist-1Download

*I take Adderall, prescribed by my psychiatrist, to help get me moving when my extreme fatigue and dysthymia is bogging me down. Always consult your doctor before trying a new medication and never take medicine that is not prescribed to you.

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Suicide

Dak Prescott Speaks Out on Brother’s Suicide, Gets Lashed

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

Just in case you missed it, Dak Prescott, quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys, did an interview with one of his brothers this week about the suicide of their other brother, Jace Prescott.

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I read the interview and I was so encouraged that Dak came forward and discussed not only suicide but also his battle with depression. This is not talked about enough, especially among male athletes. The stigma surrounding mental illness is very strong among males because of the misconception that men have to be “tough guys.”

I can’t say enough about Dak’s strength and mental toughness — his can be seen both on and off the field. There is no doubt that the interview, airing soon on In Depth with Graham Bensinger, will save lives and help others to speak out. This is especially poignant because it’s Suicide Prevention Awareness Month.

“Mental health is a huge issue and a real thing in our world right now, especially the world we live in where everything is viral and everyone is part of the media,” Dak said. “[You] can get on social media and be overcome with emotions and thoughts of other people and allow that to fill in their head when things aren’t necessarily true — whether it’s getting likes on Instagram or something being viewed or getting bullied or whatever it may be. All those things create emotions and put things in your head about yourself or your situation in life that aren’t true. I think it’s huge. I think it’s huge to talk. I think it’s huge to get help. And it saves lives.”

And it is huge. So imagine my disgust when I learned that a Fox Sports newscaster had blasted Dak yesterday.

“When it comes to the quarterback of an NFL team, you know this better than I do, it’s the ultimate leadership position in sports,” Skip Bayless said. “You are commanding an entire franchise. … But you’re commanding a lot of young men and some older men. And they’re all looking to you to be their CEO, to be in charge of the football team. Because of all that, I don’t have sympathy for him going public with ‘I got depressed. I suffered depression early in COVID to the point where I couldn’t even go workout.’ Look, he’s the quarterback of America’s Team.”

Sickening.

Skip Bayless should have sympathy. Dak is one of the most popular players in the NFL, who has never lost his focus despite his mother passing away and then his brother earlier this year. Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S., with more than 48,000 people dying by suicide in 2008 (the most recent numbers). The suicide rate continues to climb and no doubt will shoot up while the effects of COVID are still being felt.

Skip Bayless should be ashamed of himself. Dak hasn’t lost focus because he has felt depression and suffered great losses, he has demonstrated courage, strength and he’s an example to the whole organization. He has stared the stigma of depression in the face and shown vulnerability. Not everybody can do that. But that’s who he is. He should be lauded for it, not condemned.

From what I can see, everybody has rallied behind Dak after Skip Bayless’ comments were reported. Fox Sports even apologized, which you can read below. Good job, Fox. There’s no room for hate and ignorance in this country, not anymore than there already is.

“At FOX Sports, we are proud of Dak Prescott for publicly revealing his struggle with depression and mental health,” the company said in a press release. “No matter the cause of the struggle, FOX Sports believes Dak showed tremendous courage which is evident in both his leadership on the Dallas Cowboys and in his character off the field. We do not agree with Skip Bayless’ opinion on Undisputed this morning. We have addressed the significance of this matter with Skip and how his insensitive comments were received by people internally at FOX Sports and our audience.”

It is my hope that we chip away at the stigma of depression and suicide. We do that by speaking about it. Silence only breeds more shame and nobody can heal in shame.

If you or a loved one is struggling with suicidal thoughts, please seek help immediately. Reach out to a trusted friend or family member. Contact the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or use the Crisis Text Line (text HOME to 741741.

You are no alone.

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Suicide

Rep. Todd Hunter Hosts Suicide Prevention Symposium

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
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Rep. Todd Hunter

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day, which important for me. As I’ve previously written, I’ve been suicidal many, many times. I’ve been lucky enough to have a great support system and access to helpful resources. I’m alive because of that.

But others aren’t so lucky.

The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention states that there are 132 suicides EVERY DAY. It’s the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S., with more than 48,000 dying in 2018 (the most recent numbers).

Again, this is a big deal. That’s why I was so pleased to be invited to Rep. Todd Hunter’s Suicide Prevention Symposium today, which was attended by experts in the mental health field, school administrators, as well as a number of students across the Coastal Bend who are passionate in ending suicides and educating the public about suicide’s devastating impact.

Data from the CDC’s National Center for Health Statistics says suicide was the second leading cause of death among young Americans aged 15 to 24. Between 2000 and 2007, the suicide rate among youth aged 10 to 24 was around 6.8 deaths per 100,000 people. Then the rate reached an alarming rate of 10.6 deaths per 100,000 by 2017 — a 56-percent increase in less than two decades.

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We have a huge problem on our hands. That’s why I was so heartened to observe this forum. The students involved were so knowledgable about suicide and were eager to learn how to help others who are struggling. When I was younger nobody talked about it and I didn’t know to speak up when I had suicidal or intrusive thoughts. I can’t help but think my mental health journey would be dramatically different, easier, in the past 20 years if early intervention was an option.

I’m so glad that Rep. Todd Hunter has made this a priority. He has started a task force dedicated to prevention awareness and introduced bills that are crucial to data collection, preventive services and strategies in preventing suicide. I’m in awe.

“It’s time to shine a light and make a difference, ” Rep. Hunter said. “We’re not stopping here. This is the beginning.”

The forum also featured a woman who lost her son to suicide. While it was heartbreaking to hear, her story will surely help others understand the gravity of suicide and lasting effects. The mental health experts also listed local resources that I had no idea existed.

It’s so hard being a teenager, especially right now, because COVID has disrupted our lives and left a lot of people isolated and away from their support system. That’s incredibly hard, even for adults. I’m glad this issue is being addressed; I know without a doubt Mr. Hunter’s and his staff’s efforts will save lives.

I’m immensely proud that these bills and education services are coming from the Coastal Bend.

Available Resources Around the Coastal Bend:

Antonio E. Garcia Arts & Education Center (Focused on invention in at-risk youth, connects families with community resources)
361-825-3600

TAMUCC Counseling Clinic
361-825-3988

Todd Hunter’s Office (if you have ideas on suicide prevention, mental illness legislation)
361-695-2048

Follow Stop Texas Suicides Now! on Twitter
@stop_TX_suicides

Nation-wide Resources

Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255

Crisis Text Line
Text HOME to 741741

Please know there is help available. You are never alone.

To learn more about suicide prevention, please go here. Learn how to help and what the risk factors are to suicide.

Stay in the light, friends.

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Suicide

What It’s Like To Be Suicidal

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

Trigger Warning: Suicide, Suicidal Ideation, Death by Suicide

Preface: I don’t pretend to know what others go through during a depressive episode or why someone would want to die by suicide. These are solely my opinions, based on my experiences.

This is not an easy topic, nor is it a comfortable one to discuss, but that’s why we need to talk about it. The stigma surrounding depression and suicide leaves people feeling they can’t talk about it, and the silence is deadly. And so heartbreaking.

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September is Suicide Prevention Awareness Month

I think about Kate Spade‘s and Robin William’s suicides from years ago, and while most everybody was shocked, I really wasn’t surprised. In my opinion, the people who work the hardest, the most passionate and genuine, are the ones who struggle the most. I know it was hard for people to understand and I’m sure very scary that two such successful people could lose a battle to a little-understood enemy, that they could leave their seemingly happy lives and family, but it happens every day. Depression is an invisible illness that can completely devastate you, yet so many stay quiet because society as a whole doesn’t seem to want to understand. (Read about the history behind the stigma of mental illness here.)

It’s obvious that depression is misunderstood. It’s hard for people to understand that someone can make jokes and be depressed. Or that a person can be suicidal yet appear fine, even fully functional. Depression sufferers are good at hiding pain. I hid mine for years because I felt judged and ashamed. I felt like I was weaker than everybody else but that was the stigma talking.

I don’t get it. Is it ignorance or is society so fragile that people can’t handle knowing others are suffering so much? It’s 2020 — shouln’t we be more evolved, more enlightened?

It doesn’t matter why the stigma is there, it needs to end. In 2018 (the latest stats I could find) there were more than 48,000 recorded suicides, according to the CDC’s National Center for Health Statistics. On average, the annual U.S. suicide rate increased 24-percent between 1999 and 2014, from 10.5 to 13.0 suicides per 100,000, the highest rate recorded in 28 years.

Those numbers are from two years ago and have increased, no doubt. I imagine they will significantly increase this year due to coronavirus and the resulting problems, such as increased number of depressed persons from job loss, trauma, health concerns, etc.

But I digress. I’ve been suicidal more times than I can count. I haven’t talked about it a lot, but I should, especially since it’s Suicide Prevention Awareness month. The only way to normalize depression and suicide is to talk about it and help educate, so here I go.

My mind goes to a time where I was staying at my parents’ house. My parents had taken my two young kids to their lake house. My husband (who was back in Corpus) and I had gotten into a fight, I don’t even remember what it was about, but I remember how alone I felt, so out of control. I had experienced bad postpartum depression a year before and it just lingered and worsened.

That night I was so sad, I could feel it in my bones. I was exhausted and it truly felt like I’d be unhappy forever. That argument sent me over the edge and all I could think about was I’d be better off dead, but I didn’t want to leave my babies. I didn’t want my mom to find me dead.

I ended up driving myself to the ER and was then sent to an acute behavioral hospital for two days.

Tears are streaming down my face as I write this. It’s painful to think about. I love my family more than anything and I don’t ever want to do anything to hurt them. Unfortunately, I’ll probably have more suicidal thoughts, but I don’t want to die. My brain is such a liar. Such a con artist, making me believe I’m not worth being alive. That my family doesn’t want me. It is my heart that saves me, helps me see through the bullshit. And that’s all it is, except it feels so real, and I completely understand how people could succumb to those big feelings and end their lives.

The people who die by suicide — they aren’t selfish, they were just sick and their illness just so happens to take over their brain. I think they just wanted to be free of the pain. Depression makes you hurt all over, and of course, the pain you feel mentally is pure anguish. It’s exhausting living with all that. I get it.

I feel like suicide could happen to anyone under the right circumstances. That’s why we need to eradicate the stigma and support those in need of mental health services.

Lives literally depend on it.

Risk Factors for Suicide Ideation and/or Attempts

  • Family history of suicide or child neglect
  • Previous suicide attempts
  • History of mental disorders, especially clinic depression
  • History of alcohol and substance abuse
  • Feelings of hopelessness
  • Isolation, a feeling of being cut off from other people
  • Physical illness
  • Barriers to accessing mental health treatment

Read more about risk factors on the CDC website.

Warning Signs of Suicidal Ideation and Behavior

  • Talking about wanting to die or kill themselves
  • Looking for a way to kill themselves (like researching how to buy a gun)
  • Talking about feeling hopeless or being in unbearable pain
  • Increasing the use of alcohol and drugs
  • Acting anxious or agitated
  • Withdrawing or isolating themselves
  • Extreme mood swings

Read more about warning signs and how you can help here.

If you or a loved one is struggling with suicidal ideation, please seek immediately. You can call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

There are better days ahead. Stay in the light, my friends.

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10 Things Not to Say to Someone with Depression

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
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The stigma of depression can cause deep-seated shame.

I’ve suffered with depression for a long time, which means I’ve also suffered through ignorant, and sometimes just mean, comments. I realize some people may have good intentions but it still can sting. The stigma of depression is still very much alive and comments like the ones below may be why some people suffer in silence. But they shouldn’t have to. Depression is one of the most common mental illnesses, affecting 15 to 20 percent of people. It’s scary, debilitating and seriously misunderstood, but it doesn’t have to be.

I’m hoping through my blogs I’ll help chip away at the stigma. Below are some of the most common things I hear.

1. You need to get out more — get some fresh air and sunshine. Breaking down this comment is kind of hard because fresh air and sunshine are beneficial, BUT they alone will not cure depression. When this has been said to me I usually am so depressed that getting out of bed wears me out for the day and even thinking about expending more energy stresses me out.

2. It could be worse. It’s not like people with depression don’t have perspective, but this comment can really alienate people. Nobody is saying their struggle is harder, but when you’re in the throes of a depressive episode it feels terrible and lonely. A comment like this is insulting and trivializing.

3. You’re just being lazy. No depressed person I know is lazy, and even if they were, laziness doesn’t cause depression. But depression can cause extreme fatigue and deplete energy levels.

4. It’s all in your head. This is another comment that I think trivializes depression. Depression isn’t made up. It’s a very real medical condition where there are actual changes in the brain and it impacts physical health as well. Read more on how it affects the brain and body here.

5. You wouldn’t be depressed if you exercise. This is another tricky one because exercise is crucial to a person’s health, but again, I’ve been in situations where I was lucky to even shower, let alone do anything more strenuous. Only recently have I realized that exercise will help maintain my mood, so I’m working very hard to incorporate it into my daily routine. BUT even if I do exercise I will still be depressed. I will still need medications and talk therapy.

6. What do you have to be depressed about? I struggle with this personally because I feel so fortunate to have what I have, and it does make me feel very guilty; however, this is the stigma talking. Depression doesn’t care who you are or what you have. It can affect anyone but it doesn’t mean someone is not grateful for what they have. This is very hard to hear from others.

7. Just think positively. I hate hearing this so much. Thinking positively is not the reason I have depression. It’s not like I think negative thoughts all the time, but I am realistic about my disease and how to maintain it. Positive thinking never hurt anyone, but some may be incapable of putting things in perspective during a depressive episode. No matter how many happy thoughts you think, you can’t think this disease away.

8. Snap out of it! This is simple — nobody can just snap out of depression. This is mean, in my opinion, and people shouldn’t have to hear this.

9. But you seem fine. At times, I can be very high functioning. I also can laugh and joke around. In my case, I’m not depressed every single minute of every single day, so it may come off like I’m fine, but I’ll be saddled with depression for the rest of my life. And that’s OK.

10. Happiness is a choice. Another bullshit comment. This is offensive. The idea that people are choosing to be so devastatingly sad or suicidal is so ignorant. Please don’t say this to others.

I don’t want anyone to think that I’m discouraging you from reaching out to someone who suffers with depression. You should. Here are some ideas on what to say that (likely) won’t hurt them.

1. How are you feeling? Someone with depression may not want to talk about it, but this is a good way to get them to open up.

2. How’s your day going? Another good way to check in without being intrusive.

3. I’m coming over. In my experience, I will tell my friends I’m fine even when I’m struggling because I don’t want to be a burden. Some of my friends have learned to just show up.

4. I’m here if you need me. It always feels good to hear this. I know my friends and family are always there for me, and they give me space when I need it, but this is still comforting and supportive.

5. What can we do? This is very supportive and makes me feel like I’m not in the dark hole of depression alone.

I hope this helps, and I hope you will join me in trying to end the deadly stigma surrounding depression. Stay in the light, friends.

If you or a loved one are suicidal, please call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.

Learn what to do if your loved one is in immediate danger of hurting themselves.

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Postpartum Care Needs Dramatic Changes

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I breastfed Isla for eight months before I started showing signs of depression again. Pregnancy hormones and breastfeeding gave me a temporary boost, but I could feel the darkness try to creep back in. My doctor (wrongly) told me I couldn’t breastfeed and take antidepressants, so I stopped. (Some antidepressants are safe to take while breastfeeding. Read more here and always consult your doctor if you need medication).

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Heather and Eli, 2016

I weaned Isla somewhat abruptly and started my meds, expecting to immediately feel better, but Zoloft was no match for my hormones. I cried all the time. I had suicidal thoughts. I felt out of control and that scared me. I had experienced depression before but not on that level.

After talking to other moms and doing research, I discovered I had post weaning depression, something I’d never heard of, but it’s real. When you stop breastfeeding you experience a drop in prolactin and oxytocin levels, according to Parents.com. Prolactin, needed for milk production, causes calmness and a sense of well-being. Oxytocin, needed for milk ejection, increases relaxation, lowers stress levels and lowers blood pressure.

It’s no wonder that my hormones caused such a violent reaction when I abruptly stopped breastfeeding. I turned back to my doctor but he wouldn’t acknowledge that post weaning depression was real. I got the impression he didn’t deal with pregnant or postpartum patients at all. Later he labeled me “treatment resistant”, which felt like he was giving up on me. So, I gave up on him and found a new psychiatrist — a woman.

I received inadequate postpartum mental healthcare. I’m hardly the only one who has experienced this, which got me thinking — I was able to afford new medication ($300!) to combat my depression. I was able to find a new doctor, even though she lives in the DFW metroplex (near my parents’ house) and doesn’t accept insurance. She charges $125 per hour. I was able to get the help I needed, but there are women who aren’t as lucky, especially women of color. There’s a huge disparity when it comes to the risk of experiencing postpartum health issues. This is likely due to the fact black women are more likely to have traumatic births and other complications, such as maternal hemorrhaging. Read more about that here. Also, black women are less likely to reach out, most likely due to the stigma associated with mental illnesses.

Nationally, postpartum depression affects 1 in 8 women. New mothers of color have rates of postpartum depression close to 38% compared to the 13 to 19% rate all of new mothers, according to the Psychology Benefits Society.

A disproportionate number of women of color are not even screened for depression and don’t receive the services and treatment they need. Up to 60% of women of color don’t receive any services at all. That’s crazy! Proper screening of women of color during pregnancy and postpartum is known to reduce the symptoms of depression, yet there’s still this great disparity.

There’s also this — there are documented racial and ethnic differences in perceptions and treatment experiences of low-income women of color vs. white women, including limited access to health care, a disconnection with providers, lack of access to providers that look like them and unavailability of culturally/linguistically appropriate services, Psychology Benefits Society says.

A study questioned new mothers of color about what they needed in order to access screening and treatment and it shows mothers of coloring lack the following:

  • Access to information and resources
  • Access to services (insurance coverage, transportation, childcare services, etc.)
  • Flexibility when making appointments and flexibility when finding a doctor
  • Community-based support services

This is not OK. All those numbers are probably much higher in reality than what’s being reported. Again, the stigma keeps women of color from reporting and reaching out. It is still common for people — no matter what their background — to view depression as a weakness. New moms could also fear people thinking they aren’t fit as a mother if they are experiencing depression. That was a huge concern of mine.

I’m not trying to make this about me, but I can’t help but think what if I didn’t have the means and flexibility that I do to receive quality mental health care?

What I experienced with postpartum and post weaning depression was not good, and to be honest, it was dangerous (not for my kids, just me) because of my suicidal thoughts. I could have easily killed myself but my support system and options for healthcare saved me.

But there are others who need saving. All women need quality healthcare, and closing the gap between treatment of mothers of color and white mothers should be a priority. It should’ve already happened. The U.S. is supposed to be “best country in the world” but it ranks among the last compared to other first-world countries in terms of healthcare. I love my country, but it’s not the best if the majority of women are receiving little to no healthcare postpartum or otherwise.

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Make Hay While the Sun Shines

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

A week ago I was in bad shape — severely depressed, anxious and suicidal. I went for an ECT treatment and my psychiatrist altered my medications. This week has been unbelievably better. I expected to feel a bit better because of how low I was, anything is an improvement when all you can think about is dying. What I didn’t expect was how good I’m feeling. I have energy, motivation, mental toughness and this fire in my belly that I haven’t felt in oh so long. I almost didn’t recognize it. Is this what it’s like to be happy?

Let me walk that back. I’m always happy with my life and everything I have. I’m so fortunate and grateful, even in times of deep depression. But this is something else — this is me acknowledging the “inner me,” my utmost self and she is fierce. She radiates happiness. She loves every inch of herself. She advocates for those who struggle with mental health. Her mission is to help and heal this world through whatever means possible (Tikkun Olam). She relishes in spending time with her family (for more the most part) and laughing loudly with her friends. She has grit.

I’ve been cleaning, planning and getting those annoying tasks on my to-do list checked off. That might not sound very fun but I’m doing it with joy because I just can’t do much when I’m so sad and fatigued.

This is what I aspire to and how I want to feel all the time but there are days where the only thing I can aspire to is getting dressed and taking care of the kids. But that’s OK. Not every day will be a good one but that’s exactly why I need to write this blog. I must remember this feeling when I’m down deep in the black pits of darkness and depression. I need to tell myself that happiness and wellness are attainable. That it’s possible to feel so good that your cheeks hurt from smiling and you can’t stop singing, despite complaints from your family. I just want to sing, for my heart to sing. I want to reach my potential. I want people to assume I’m manic (or on drugs, LOL) because I’m so productive and happy.

And maybe I am manic right now but I’m going to make sweet, sweet hay while the sun shines.

It’s a great day to be alive and not in bed. I cherish this day, this feeling and all of you who support me when I’m utterly depressed, manically happy and everything in between.

To learn more about depression and you can help others suffering, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

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Unruly Neurons
KidsUncategorized

Love The One You’re With

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb


I really liked what I said in my previous body positive blog and it felt so freeing. But I’m far from being more than just OK with my body. It’s a hell of a long way from being happy with it. 

In the past week I’ve caught myself two times feeling shame about my weight and appearance. First, I was in my bathroom, and against my better judgement, I got on the scale. It was just as I expected — 180 pounds — which is 10 more than when COVID started to spread and 30 from my goal weight that my gastric sleeve surgeon set for me. Anyways, Isla came in just as I was stepping off the scale and for some reason I yelled, “I need privacy!” and became flustered. It took me a minute to realize that I was embarrassed by that number. I didn’t want her to see it. It took another minute for me to realize that number doesn’t mean anything to her and shouldn’t mean anything to me. Just to reiterate, we’re going through a pandemic and it’s OK and understandable that my stress eating has led to a weight gain. It’s not an excuse to discard healthy eating habits, but I can give myself some grace. I should, anyway. 

It’s also important for me to say, and for me to hear, that my worth is not tied to my weight. My worth is not tied to my weight. I’m still beautiful and smart. My hair still curls the way I like it. My husband still loves me and tells me I’m beautiful every day. I still have amazing friends and family who have my back no matter what. My kids are still amazing and have hearts of gold. My small community still respects and supports me. My weight shouldn’t dictate how I feel about any aspect of my wonderful life. So, why does it? 

What I have learned in the past 20 years or so is that the flawed thinking surrounding women’s — and girls’ — bodies is deep seated. Women are bombarded with the notion they should be thin and to be beautiful, that they should fit a near-impossible mold. This is done through TV shows, advertising, social media, magazines, etc. According to www.centerforchange.com, young girls are exposed to 400 to 600 media images per day. That same site says a study found that 63% of female participants identified weight as a key factor in determining how they felt about themselves, more important than family, school or career. While it’s a bit comforting knowing I’m not alone, it’s also very depressing to hear.

That’s why we need to keep exploring this issue. There is a body positive movement but we need a body positive revolution, to discard these very dangerous bullshit ideals that only fuel eating disorders, depression, anxiety and body dysmorphia disorder.

Body dysmorphia can lead to unnecessary plastic surgery. Personally, I’ve had a “mommy makeover” which included lipo, a breast reduction and tummy tuck. I also had the gastric sleeve surgery in an attempt to control my weight and eating disorder (Binge Eating Disorder).  

But I’m here to tell you that didn’t help my self image, except maybe the breast reduction. I just didn’t feel the need to have size HH breasts. Let me also say I don’t mean to knock anyone who does get surgery. I’m all for supporting anyone’s decision to change their body, so long as it makes them happy.

I’ve canceled plans because I’ve felt fat and ugly. I’ve hidden in baggy clothes. I’ve dieted too many times to count. I’ve convinced myself that people don’t like me because I’m ugly and fat. I’ve ducked out of photos or refused to even take them. I’ve fed my body nothing but hate and junk and expected it to be healthy and perfect.

But no more. I don’t want to be boxed in by impossible standards. I want to have wild hair, wear crazy bright colors and patterns. I want to show off my tattoos. I want to take all the photos. It’s cliche but I want my little light to shine and not be dimmed by a little extra weight. I want — no, need — for my children (especially Isla) to see my live unapologetically, with confidence and love. I want them to laugh in the face of anyone who dare criticize their body or appearance. I want them to be everything I am and everything I’m not, all at the same time. I just want them to be happy and that starts with self love and care.

I’m going to stop hiding in photos and nitpicking about “bad angles.” I’m just going to live. Freely. That scale means, and measures, nothing. My children are watching, so I am morally responsible to let my light shine and shine brightly.

Please do the same.

If you or a loved one struggles with an eating disorder, I urge you to visit the National Eating Disorders Association.

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