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.

You don’t have to talk about your depression

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

When I first starting writing about having depression, I had no idea so many people would reach out. The outpour of support was overwhelming and comforting. It can feel pretty lonely at times in the darkness of depression.

But some people – some surprising people – have not been so supportive or they have ignored my blogs and constant talk to normalize depression. One person, who will remain anonymous, said she understood that I was depressed but didn’t think I should always write about it – that it might make my sadder, that people didn’t need to know my business. I felt almost like I was embarrassing her by association. Actually, I’m pretty sure she was embarrassed – even embarrassed for ME. Like I should be ashamed.

But that’s what I don’t get – why people are weird about depression and mental illness. That’s what this blog is for – lending understanding to others and normalizing all mental disease.

What’s shocking the most is the person is my age, a part of my generation. Perhaps her feelings toward depression and mental illness came from her parents and family who considered it taboo or a weakness. Where does it come from?

But I’m not going to stop blogging. I don’t think I’m whining and complaining about being sad all the time. I think I’m telling the truth about what it feels to have depression. What’s weird to me is why it makes others uncomfortable? Why would you feel anything but compassion or even indifference in my journey? I think that reflects more on the people who are judging than it does me. I’m fine with having depression. Well, not fine, but I’ve come to terms with it. But it doesn’t bother me, so why should it bother you?

Why are people so uncomfortable with mental illness?

Before I end this blog, I wanted to remind y’all that I start TMS tomorrow and will blogging about the entire process and how I’m feeling after treatment.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

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Saboteur

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I had an epiphany today. I realized that I am not mentally healthy, which is completely different from being depressed or having mental illness. I flat out don’t do anything that would promote mental health, which no doubt affects my depression.

Recently, I’ve had trouble with overeating. My husband and I order out a lot and every chance I get I order something unhealthy and then proceed to overeat. It’s not a new practice, I’ve done it for years. What starts off as “I don’t feel great, I need a treat” turns into a habit that are incredibly hard to stop. But today I decided to stop.

Not just the overeating, but the way I look at myself, the way I talk and treat myself – it’s horrible and I would never say or do anything like that to another person. I pride myself on being compassionate and nonjudgemental – the oppotisite of what this saboteur in my head does.

I listented to a great podcast, Brook Castillo’s Self Assault, and learned that what I’ve been doing is assault – inflicting harm or attacking. This is what I do to myself day after day. Not only verybally but chemically as Brook Castillo put it – using chemicals and substances to inflict harm. That includes overeating, drinking massive amounts of Diet Coke and abusing meds, which I have a tendancy to do. I always need a hit whether it’s food, shopping, soda or relying too much on my anxiety pills.

So I threw out all my Diet Coke. I wrote down positive affirmations. I jotted down mean things that I said to myself and then disputed them.

And even though I begged my husband to order out tonight, we cooked a healthy meal. It was good but also sucked because I couldn’t overeat or have Diet Coke with it. I realize now that I’m constantly seeking false pleasure in things. I actually cried because we didn’t order out. But that’s just me being uncomfortable with change – losing my blankie, if you will. I have to get uncomfortable. I have to stop treating myself like shit if I don’t want to feel like shit. Again, this behavior can not be helping my depression one iota.

I also realized that I didn’t have any goals set for myself anymore. I used to set goals, acoomplish them and make new goals, it was just what I did. The fact that I don’t have any goals told me I don’t think I’m worthy or even capable, which isn’t true. Where does all this hate and sabotaging behavior come from? How on earth did I learn to talk to myself with such animosity and disgust?

Wherever I picked it up, I’m trying to put it down now. I know it’ll take sometime to break bad habits but I just have to do this. I have to be as healthy as possible. I have to set an example for my kids and husband. I have to love myself and feel worthy of that love.

Tell me, friends, how do you self sabotage and what do you do to be mentally healthy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Kids

This post is about poop – fair warning

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

We all know that stress leads to depression and I have been stressed with my daughter’s potty training since this past December. I just need to vent.

Potty training started off well enough. She’d pee in the small potty we got her but she wouldn’t poop. No big deal. A lot of children start off that way. Then she maybe got scared of pooping in the toilet and started holding it in, which led to problems. She started to leave smears or go to the bathroom in her panties. That led to tons of scrubbing and the sanitary cycle. I finally gave up and put her back in pull ups. But the problem worsened – she’d hold her poop in for a week or more. She started to get a horrible rash from having some much leakage and holding it in. When we’d sit her on the toilet there was kicking, screaming and crying on both our parts. She also began to kick and scream when I’d try to clean her up. It was awful and I would be anxious the whole day knowing what was coming. Her pediatrician was very helpful but kept saying it was her diet, which really made me feel like a piece of crap -another thing I was doing wrong.

We took her to the GI specialist who gave us medicine to cleanse her out and cleanse her out it did. Her rash cleared up and she started using the potty almost all the time with very few accidents.

Then, she regressed. Repeat of everything aforementioned. She’s still holding in which leads to constipation with the leakage, which leads to the bleeding and painful rashes. I’ve tried a lot to get her to go to the toilet – bribed her with potty prizes, letting her sit backwards on the toilet to draw on with markers, letting her blow bubbles while she was sitting, tried letting her go without a pull up or panties – nothing has worked.

On her follow up at the GI’s the doctor told me she just likes to poop in her pants. I paid a lot of money to hear her say that. As long as she wasn’t constipated, there wasn’t a problem except the rash. I’d have to wait it out, she said. She would get it on her own.

I tell you all this because I feel like a failure of a mom. My anxiety at night is through the roof. I have to change her almost every hour to make she she’s clean and she’s still not going on the potty as much as she should. I wash my hands so many times a day, causing them to be dry and cracked. Not a big deal but this is the most stressful situation I’ve been in with her. And I know it could be worse.

Thankfully, her school is working with me. She’s moving up to the 3’s classroom where you have to be potty trained. I had to provide a note from the GI specialist saying we were working on it and I’m pretty sure she’s the only kid in the class not potty trained, which again doesn’t really matter but adds to my frustration and anxiety.

I’m just being impatient and I know I need to relax. She won’t be like this forever but going through this cycle since December has really worn me down, especially with the kicking and screaming.

Please fell free tell me your kids have had similar issues or you know what I’m going through, because right now I feel like I’m the worse mom ever.

 

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Commitment or the lack thereof

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I don’t know about others with depression but I have a real problem when it comes to making plans. I usually make plans or commitments when I’m feeling good or whatever passes for good, and at that moment I’m truly looking forward to whatever plans I make.

But then, my depression overcomes my desire to socialize or perform whatever task I signed up for. I’ve taken to doing things last minute or being non-committal. It doesn’t impress my friends or social group to which I belong.

Even if it’s something I know I’ll have fun at (girls’ night, group workouts), I still have to summon up the energy to take a shower, put on a happy face and go. And by now, my friends have accepted that it’s just who I am. But I’m required to go out in public where friends and acquaintances don’t know where I’m coming from and I know I can come off rude or flaky. I hate that.

In the past it’s caused rifts and arguments with friends and definitely problems at work. I don’t know what I would do now if I were working outside the home. My depression has gotten much worse than before I was pregnant and working, I can’t imagine facing workplace obligations, not to mention the drama, again.

I also feel so burdened when I have an obligation hanging over me and I get anxious when I put off a friend because I just can’t even. I’m still supposed to set up a play date from 2-3 years ago. Sigh. Plus, there’s always the drama of coordinating schedules with the kids. That just adds to my problem, hence why I don’t have a lot of mom friends. I want them, I do, it’s just hard now.

Hopefully, the TMS that I’ll start next week will change things: I’ll have more energy, my anxiety will lesson and I’ll feel less encumbered.

Maybe going out and taking on more responsibility will be easy peasy. Who knows? I’d like to do more than barely get by with socializing and start cultivating my friendships.

Let’s just hope TMS really helps.

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I’m back and with news

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

Vacation has ended and it’s back to life, back to reality. It has been awhile since I’ve blogged but my last blog talked about how I forgot my meds while on vacation. I was truly expecting a depression storm but actually I feel great. Maybe a little restart was what I needed. It was just three days without my total regimen, so it wasn’t too bad. No breakdowns, no withdrawal symptoms, nothing. I freaked myself out all for nothing.

And I’m still feeling great. It’s weird, but I’ll take it. Nothing has changed except the medicine hiccup. But I’m thankful.

In breaking news, I’ve decided to take the plunge and try transcranial magnetic stimulation or TMS. I was recently approved by insurance and while it sounds weird, I am hopeful it will improve my mood even more and I won’t have as many depressive episodes.

So, TMS. In a nutshell, you sit in a chair similar to a dentist’s. An electromagnetic coil is placed against your scalp near your forehead. Next the magnet delivers a magnetic pulse that stimulates nerve cells of your brain – the ones that involve mood control and depression. In people with depression, it’s thought to activate regions of the brain that have decreased activity. It’s not completely understand but TMS is known to greatly help those with depression and anxiety. People like me.

Because I’m treatment resistant and I have MDD, this is the next step. It has fewer side effects than ECT (electroconvulsive therapy), which is a big commitment. With TMS, you do have 30 or so treatments in a row Monday through Friday, but you’re able to drive yourself home and one of the most common side effects is headache. That worries me a bit with my migraines but I’m willing to give it a try.

One of my friends in Dallas is almost over with her sessions and she told me she can feel a real difference. She also said the electromagnet feels like a woodpecker tapping at your brain but doesn’t necessarily hurt.

I’m hopeful.

I start August 15, so think good thoughts for me.

 

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Oops

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

So I start packing for a vacation to my family’s lake house last week and I begin with my kids. I’m in charge of packing for four, you know. Not so much for my husband but I do have to find his bag and remind him where we’re going and what he’ll need. Wife problems. Anyway, so I get everyone packed. Except me.

I forget my medicine. All of it. Unbelievable because I never forget anything important and I need my meds to be emotionally stable and I’m now 8 hours away from my stability. I also forget my wallet so this trip is starting off amazingly well.

I’m able to get an emergency three-day stash but because of the pharmacy’s rules, my refill situation and whatnot I can only get a few medications. How many meds are you on, you ask? However much it takes me to feel normal. I’ll let you know when that happens.

So I have some meds but not at the right strength/dosage. I am now in the unique position to know that a storm is coming. I only have a couple of psych meds. I couldn’t get my birth control, so my hormones will be thrown off. I have three days to get to my meds or disaster could strike and my depression could come back in full force. All the progress I’ve made lately, gone. I’m very dramatic tonight.

But this time I know it’s coming. Before, the waves of depression would just crash down on me with no warning. Is it any different now that I know I have a recipe for disaster? Probably not. I’ve warned my support base and I’ve even been trying to be my own hype man but I can feel the fatigue in my bones, the brain zaps from withdrawal, the heaviness that sits on your chest.

Or am I just imagining it all? I only have the recipe, I’m not cooked yet.

You’d think three days (Lawd, let it be just three days) wouldn’t do any harm but I’ve gone through withdrawal in just hours before with zero medication. It sucks how one mistake can derail you so much.

Here’s hoping it doesn’t. I was starting to feel pretty good.

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Nighttime

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

The past few days have been great – I’ve had more energy, been in a better mood, going to the gym and I can see hope on the horizon. I’m so busy during the daytime but it’s after the kids go to bed, when night falls, that I start to struggle again. How can you have such a good day and then crumble? I don’t know but as soon as I’ve tip-toed out of my little girl’s room in the evening and head downstairs the anxiety attacks at full force.

Is it because I know I only have a few hours until I have to sleep and wake up and do it all over again? My daughter’s having some potty training issues. It’s very frustrating.

I don’t know.

Is it because I know there’s an internal battle coming up?

Maybe.

I have a few options: I can take an anti-anxiety pill. I could color in my adult coloring book. I could read a book. I could meditate. I could employ any positive coping skill I’ve ever learned but I usually don’t. See, I have certain compulsions when I’m depressed and anxious, which is pretty common for a lot of people. My fallbacks are compulsive shopping and eating. Not binge eating per se but overeating foods that I know are not good for me. When I’m in turmoil, I cannot stop these behaviors. I wish I could and sometimes there is inner dialogue with a lot of cussing and arguing but usually the compulsions win out.

The shopping is easier to control because you have to have money for that but it’s the eating that I have real trouble with. It’s especially hard to talk myself out of it at night after I’ve had a long day and the anxiety has already hit me. I need something good to eat after all I’ve been through that day. I need a pick me up. I need that high. I need to forget about the anxiety.

And of course it’s worse on Sundays. Tonight I ate an entire pizza. I’d say I have no regrets but my pajama pants disagree. I didn’t get much of a high, I’m still anxious and my pants are too tight.

When I’ve asked my therapist about this, she agreed that these are compulsions and sometimes I will not be in a good place to stop them. She continued saying I can’t stop these compulsions anymore than I can stop a migraine with my thoughts. She also said I need to be an adult and learn to say no to myself. She’s right on both counts, especially me saying no to myself, but that part sucks so let’s get to that later.

I know it’s my brain that makes me depressed and anxious. I know these aren’t character flaws or personality issues. After all, medicine doesn’t go to your heart and change your feelings, it goes to your brain to fix misfiring neurotransmitters and such. But I can’t help feeing a little despaired that I’m not able to control these compulsions 100% of the time. I also know it could be worse.

I don’t know what it is about the nighttime that does this to me but it always has. I think about having alone time all day and then when I get it and have the opportunity to relax I’m the furthest thing from it. The only time I’m at peace at night is when I’m sleeping and I need a pill for that.

But as weird as this all sounds, I’m still improving from where I was. I’ll take being happy/content during the day and anxious at night. But at least there’s sleep.

Anyone care to share your compulsions? Your negative or positive coping skills?

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Post partum depression, trucks and ponies

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I’m cleaning out my car the other day and finding the odd little things moms find in their cars – a pair of shoes, one sock, three My Little Ponies and a monster truck. These make me smile because at one point in my car all that was there was Chick-fil-a trash, which also makes me smile, but for different reasons. I love finding toys here and there, reminding me how lucky I am that I have two beautiful, clever children who love me.

But to be honest, after giving birth to them my depression worsened. My hormones and brain chemistry were altered and I went down dark roads I never imagined existed. Do I regret having babies? No way. Will I have more? No way. But I do want to discuss Postpartum Depression and Post Weaning Depression.

During my first pregnancy, I was happy a lot, albeit anxious, even though my family was facing terrible times – my husband’s dad died and there was chaos within the family. But my hormones wouldn’t let me be sad a whole lot during these times. After giving birth to a girl, I breastfed her for 8 months. I felt the depression creeping back in and I no longer had the protection of pregnancy hormones to keep me happy. I stopped breastfeeding cold turkey, without so much as talking to a lactation consultant or my doctor. I just wanted to get back on meds (at this time I was told by my now former psychiatrist that I would not be able to be on meds and breastfeed, which is not true).

The pain in my breasts was nothing compared to the waves of depression that crashed down on me over and over. I was suicidal. My husband and mom didn’t understand what was happening. My doctors didn’t know what to do so they recommended I go to the local psychiatric hospital, which I didn’t want to do and I found inadequate. I felt my whole postpartum care was inadequate, except for my OB’s care. Once I was on meds, and then more meds, the darkness began to let up. The suicidal thoughts receded.

I was on meds on top of meds and it was then I was labeled “treatment resistant.” I felt brushed off my psychiatrist. This was what it was going to be like forever? When my daughter was about 16 or 17 months old, my husband and I decided I would get off my meds and try for another baby. Secretly I was hoping to feel the happiness I had felt with my first pregnancy but no such luck. I felt anxious and moody, but I could go several weeks without a migraine, so there’s that. It was a difficult pregnancy – I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes at 20 weeks followed by polyhydraminos which led me to give birth to my son at 37 weeks. So I was relieved when it was over and I was prepared for the PPD, asking for Zoloft as soon as I could get it. My OB understood. Nobody wanted a repeat of last time.

And even though I was prepared and on medication, it still hit. It was more than the “baby blues.” I was sad all the time, I didn’t think anyone else could take care of the baby the way I could which led to exhaustion, which led to more anxiety and irritability. I constantly checked on the baby and worried. I was weepy. And worst case scenarios always popped through my head. Plus, I had a toddler to take care of. Whether you have help is irrelevant. You feel so alone and scared.  It’s like someone has taken over your body and brain. When it gets really bad, you have suicidal thoughts. If that happens, you need to tell someone and seek help immediately by going to the ER or calling 911.

The “baby blues” affects up to 80% of births, according to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), but those symptoms are mild and usually go away after about two weeks. The NIMH also says that PPD affects almost 15% of births – that sounds awfully low to me – symptoms are severe and can began between a week to a month after delivery. Because of the severity of PPD’s symptoms, women may have trouble taking care of themselves and the baby, so it’s really important to take note of your symptoms – how long they stick around and just how bad they get.

Postpartum depression is no joke and I had never heard of Post Weaning Depression after breastfeeding before I experienced it. People are starting to learn more about PPD and Post Weaning Depression but it’s still something that needs to discussed. It’s not just a “women’s problem” that should be discussed behind closed doors. Forget that. It really does take a village.

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Hey – I’m cured! Thanks for helping

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I love when people try to help with my depression. Actually, I’m not sure I really do. What I like is when someone is truly educated about depression, especially MDD and anxiety, and makes a helpful suggestion, i.e. a certain vitamin or therapies I’ve yet to research such as TMS (transcranial magnetic stimulation) or ECT (electroconvulsive therapy).

What bugs me is when someone has vague knowledge of depression and assumes there’s a cure – there is no cure for MDD, only medication and therapies that can relieve symptoms. What really bugs me is hearing I’m doing something wrong or there is a cure and that I don’t want to find it. Believe me, I work hard at fighting depression and finding things to make me feel better. It’s no fun feeling this way.

And while I realize some people are truly trying to help, there are those ignorant people who fray my nerves whom I’d like to educate.

A while back I met a woman who had overheard me discuss my depression with another woman in my workout group. The woman came over, introduced herself and started discussing how society is overmedicated and suggested that depression was something we did to ourselves. We could heal ourselves. I felt so stupid and sick to my stomach. At this time, I had barely begun to discuss my mental health openly and I didn’t stand up for myself. She also began telling the other woman in our conversation, who had a thyroid problem, that she could heal her own thyroid through holistic methods. Now, I also have hypothyroidism and I want to say for everyone’s sake – NEVER DO ANYTHING WITHOUT CONSULTING YOUR DOCTOR. Going off your medication and trying holistic methods could do permanent damage. I’m not a doctor or a health professional, but please, always talk to your doctor.

Anywho, I was so upset I asked to change workout groups. Then I realized, screw that. This woman needs to see what a depressed person looks like – someone who can work out, someone who can be happy but have terrible days. And she needed to hear me talk about my depression over and over again. She needed to listen and needed to be educated. And hopefully, she has been. But the point of this story was that while thinking positively is helpful, you can’t think yourself happy when you’re depressed. Alternative therapies certainly can help but if you could cure yourself with happy thoughts then nobody would be in my predicament. Suicide wouldn’t be the 10th leading cause of death in the U.S.

I also want to address people who pinpoint one thing you’re doing and assuming that’s what’s causing your depression. If you are suffering and reading this, please let this be your takeaway: You are not causing your depression. You are not doing anything to cause it. You are mentally ill because of your brain chemistry and that’s not your fault either.

Here are some things that “cause” my depression, mind you some of them can make it worse depending on the person. These things have also been the “cause” of my migraines, too. What do you know!

Diet Coke, carbs, not enough sunshine, not enough exercise, not eating healthily, not eating enough, eating dairy, too much sleep, not enough sleep, negative thinking, carbs again and drinking out of plastic.

I also need to try crystals(?), essential oils, meditation (which actually does help me with anxiety), thinking myself cured and something about putting a banana peel on my forehead.

I’m always polite with the suggestions and maybe I should just tell people there is no cure. It’s a disease, I keep repeating myself but it’s unlike any other disease. If I had Type 1 diabetes, I don’t think anyone would list any of the options above. Surely, people know that you’re not responsible for causing diabetes, that you need medication to live and it’s nothing you can cure yourself of. Surely.

To sum this up, no matter what you can’t give yourself depression. Nothing you’re doing can cause depression. It’s not your fault, I promise on Diet Coke and carbs.

 

 

 

 

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Punch

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I saw my therapist last week and we discussed my progress, agreeing that my energy levels are up, I was in control of my eating (notice I said was) and I’m no where near suicidal. What stayed with me after this particular session is that my therapist said it seemed that I was so much stronger, I could probably punch through the wall of depression.

So far, I only feel punched by it. I’ve since been a little dicey with my eating habits, i.e. overeating on foods I have no business eating in the first place, and my anxiety has returned – did it ever go away? – at nighttime. But even though I don’t feel like I’m that close to making a hole in the wall, I can’t argue with my therapist. I’m not weepy or lying around the house all day. Matter of fact, I’m doing the things that I enjoy and practicing self care, which you can’t do during a depressive episode.

But how do I punch through? How does anyone make a hole in that formidable, rock-hard wall?

My husband says its about eating healthily, working out and continuing my current self-care routine. What do you say?

I just want to feel that happy feeling again, instead of feeling like I’m just getting by. I want to see the world in color again, to feel the reverberating warmness that brings a smile to your face and makes you sing in the car at the top of your lungs. I want to laugh my loud guffaw, and I want to breathe without having to count and without the sickening heaviness that makes me think my lungs are buried in a swamp.

Happy. The yearning to feeling that warmness is so strong it brings tears to my eyes.

How do I punch through before I get punched back down into the darkness?

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