In the throes of despair
I summon my fickle resilience to fight the unfathomable chaos that plagues us all
I search for love, though hate abounds
My anxiety paralyzing, my tender heart threatened
Thus, I continue, reluctantly adapting to this oppressive darkness that will eventually swallow me whole
It’s been three weeks since the kids have been home with me all day every day. Three long weeks. I know every parent is struggling right now, trying to figure out how to balance work and kids. They probably aren’t going back to school this academic year. And while it has been stressful with the kids home, I’m proud to say I haven’t lost my shit.
There’s been yelling and some tears but something inside my brain switched and now I feel mentally tough for the first time in a long time. I guess I realized I don’t have another choice. I have to show up and be a mom. There is no end to the quarantine in sight and there’s nothing to do but be strong. Usually, uncertainty and this amount of stress would trigger me, causing panic attacks and rendering me useless. I know everybody is in the same boat and I don’t mean to whine about this situation but I don’t know if everyone realizes how hard it is for parents right now. We can’t go anywhere or do anything the kids usually like to do. What bothers me most is knowing that my babies surely are feeling stressed and out of control. They need routines and structure. I imagine they are scared and completely overwhelmed. I know I am.
My days have started around 5:30-6 am and end around 7-8 pm. That’s a lot for me. In the good old days, I would go to bed at 9 pm so I would be well rested. Now, I get the kids down, eat dinner and barely have anytime to discuss things with my husband and just relax. I know going to bed at 11 pm will make me tired and break up my routine but I NEED to chill, not be touched, not be yelled at or asked to do a million things. The struggle is real. Now, more than ever self care is crucial and carving out time with the kids here is hard. But I have to do it. Everybody does, even if you’re not depressed and ridden with anxiety.
Self care right now looks like reading my favorite book, watching my fave shows, doing Sticker by Number puzzles and taking hot baths. Most days none of that happens but I’m trying harder to incorporate it in our new daily life.
I worry that this will break me, that I won’t feel tough and be able to handle the kids. I worry for everyone who struggles with mental health. This pandemic is enough to deal with without the added stress of thoughts of worthlessness, suicidal thoughts or debilitating anxiety.
I did see that Health and Human Services launched a mental health hotline to help anyone who needs it. People are available 24/7, 7 days a week. If you need help or want to talk, you can always email me at heatherannloeb@gmail.com or call the hotline at 833-986-1919.
Be safe. Be well.
A couple weeks ago I was flying high. I was very productive, making healthy choices and genuinely happy. Today, I am suffering. The weight of my depression is bearing down on me and I want to fight it so much. But I can’t. I can only go into survival mode and hope that I’ll feel differently in a few days.
I could feel this coming and what really sucks is that I don’t see light at the end of the tunnel. I feel like I need to be happy in order to make good decisions but I know I need to make good decisions to feel happy. And I’m feeling the pain of not being able to do things I need to do like eat healthier. Today I had a healthy breakfast and lunch but then when I picked up the kids I binged on their fruit snacks because they were fighting and stressing me out. Then I decided to punish myself and eat an unhealthy dinner. I of course overate, which is very painful now since I got the gastric sleeve surgery in November.
I’ll try again tomorrow. And the next day and the one after that. Maybe I’ll get it right someday. Maybe I won’t have to have a “survival mode.†Here’s hoping.
Stay in the light, my friends. At least one of us should.
I’ve had depression since I was young; I can remember feeling anxiety in middle school and I definitely had depression in high school, I just didn’t know it then. It wasn’t until college (when my Mema died) that I really had a problem. When she died, I couldn’t handle it. I dropped classes because of the stress and overwhelming sadness I felt. I dropped so many classes that I was only going part-time. I can remember leaving campus to drive to my parents’ house multiple times a week.
I started therapy at my college and after a couple years, I realized I needed medication to help with the depression. I was so embarrassed. I didn’t even tell my parents. Now, my parents have always supported me and never really talked about depression with me but I had it in my head that this was a major flaw – my family seemed stronger somehow, that I should just pull myself up from my bootstraps and get a grip. But I couldn’t.
After I graduated college and started my first job hundreds of miles away from my family and friends, my depression got worse. It made me miss work….a lot of it. My other coworkers were resentful and I felt like my bosses hated me. I didn’t fare well in Corpus Christi and after a bad breakup I moved back home. I felt unsuccessful and like a loser. My depression got even worse.
Fast forward to me going back to Corpus Christi: I got married, bought a house and got pregnant. After my first pregnancy I felt ok but after having my second child I was not ok. Postpartum depression reared it’s ugly head. I had to stop breastfeeding at 4 months so I could get back on my antidepressants but even the meds couldn’t save me from being suicidal. It was awful. I spent my energy on making sure my kids were ok and I simply didn’t have enough strength to fight the ugliness that had infiltrated my body. One day I had to go to the ER for suicidal thoughts. Luckily my parents were with my kids. I was sent to an acute behavioral center and saw an awful doctor who wouldn’t listen to anything I was saying. I was released after a couple days and I found a new psychiatrist who started me on different meds. I’d like to say that fixed me but it didn’t. I was diagnosed as having treatment resistant depression, meaning my meds were not effective in fighting the depression off.
Things were pretty bleak and my depression was not controlled at all. The only thing keeping me going were my kids – they of course had constant needs that I had to focus on. It was when they were sleeping that my anxiety increased. I couldn’t control ugly thoughts like I was a bad mom, a bad wife and a total loser.
I was running on empty with no hope in sight. After talking with my therapist and husband, we decided that I would go to a psychiatric facility for help. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. It would mean at least 6 weeks away from my babies and husband and I felt incredibly guilty. But I had to go.
At the Menninger Clinic I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety and avoidant personality disorder. I started electroconvulsant therapy (ECT) and different meds. I was able to come home after 6 weeks but I have to do ECT treatments every now and then.
I still get depressed. I’m actually in a little funk right now but I know I’ll get through it. I will always rise. I used to think that people with depression were weak but now I know that’s nothing but bullshit. We are strong. We fight to live every day. It’s hard and some of us don’t make it because they don’t have the means or a support system. They suffer in silence and that’s why I cannot. Please do your part in eliminating the stigma around depression and help normalize it. Check on your loved ones, let them know you care and shine a little light in their darkness.
I take a lot of naps. I even go to bed around 9 p.m. most nights and wake at 7 a.m. but I’m so exhausted some days. Sometimes comments are made to me like, “What could you possibly be tired from?” among others. It hurts my feelings when I’m asked and I start to feel guilty because I don’t work or do more around the house. (I am a stay-at-home mom).
It’s true that I have a housekeeper and my two small children are in preschool most of the day.
Yet I’m still tired.
It has taken me a long time to realize that I’m not like everyone else who can go full speed during the day and who do more than I do.
It took my therapist pointing out that every single day I have to battle demons. Every decision I make during the day including what I eat and when I sleep affect my depression. There are some days I have to make myself take my pills because even that is a feat. I have to tell myself that it’s ok to recharge – it’s ok to take care of yourself.
I’ve come a long way in the past year, and while some things are easier, it’s not because the depression and anxiety aren’t there – they are. And unfortunately, they always will be here. I didn’t go to the mental hospital last year just for fun. I was there because I have an illness and needed help beyond what I could get at home. If I have to go to bed early or take a nap in the middle of the day, so be it. Fuck anyone who judges you, they will likely never know the struggle.
So for everyone who’s depressed out there, please take care of yourself and do what you need to do to get through the day. It’s hard battling demons and sometimes we just don’t win.
If you ever need to talk or vent, please email me at heatherannloeb@gmail.com
Thanks for reading.
ECT has crippled my memory
Again, I have been remiss in updating my blog, so apologies. I have a good excuse though – remember I told y’all about start ECT (electroconvulsant therapy) at the mental hospital? Well, I have continued those treatments and it has caused me to forget, like everything. That may be an exaggeration but I have forgotten people, past events and little details about my life. It’s embarrassing. One morning I was having my nails done and the woman next to me started a conversation. No big deal, right? Except she said, “Heather, how are David and the kids?” I would’ve sworn that I’d never met her in my life but she obviously knew me. I faked it and talked to her BUT THE SAME THING HAPPENED AGAIN….and then once more.
ECT is known to cause memory loss but everything I’ve read about it says it affects your short term memory and any events that happen around the time of treatment. My memory loss goes way back. I should really have a sign on my back that warns people of this but David didn’t go for that idea, lol.
The ECTs are helping in terms of my depression. It’s easier to take care of the kids and I have more energy during the day….not a lot but it’s better than it was.
Another update I didn’t share before is that I had gastric sleeve surgery in November. With my binge eating, I had gained a ton of weight after leaving the mental hospital. I was pushing 200 again and was so miserable, so I went to see a surgeon and after some diet changes and giving up soda (I miss it so badly), they scheduled me. I obviously can’t eat like I was and there’s definitely no binging. I’m down 25 pounsd and I have 20 to go until I meet my goal.
So, overall everything is good. I’m stable. It’s a hard thing for me to say because I never really have been before. I’ll probably have to get ECTs done for the rest of my life but that’s a small price to pay to be able to truly life a good life.
That’s all for now. I’ll see y’all later.
I have been remiss in updating my blog since I returned from the good ol’ mental hospital, so my apologies. The hospital actually helped me quite a bit. I was there for 6 weeks, which was terrible in terms of being away from my family, but I was able to get help for my depression, anxiety and my tendency to over medicate. I left with a brand new diagnosis, too, so that’s fun. Turns out I have Avoidant Personality Disorder, along with depression, dysthmia and generalized anxiety disorder. I also started up ECT treatments while I was there, which I am continuing now. It’s not as scary as it sounds – I know a lot of people think negatively about “shock therapy” – they seem to be working, for the most part. The only sucky part is that I have to drive two hours away to get the treatments, as Corpus Christi doesn’t have a place here to do it.
Things were going really well but honestly right now I am on the struggle bus. Even though I’ve been compliant with meds and going to therapy, my depression has returned as has my binge eating disorder. I got a lot of problems, right? Feels like it. I’ve gained a lot of weight in a very short amount of time and even as I write this blog, I am miserably overfull from a binge.
I plan on calling a nutritionist and upping my therapy appointments, among other healthy ideas but it’s really hard not to feel bad about myself right now. Bad that I am so depressed and not a lot seems to help it. Bad that I’ve gained weight and feel so horrible. Bad that I’m not the best example for my kids. I’m trying to pull myself out of this funk, but it’s so hard. It’s getting really hard to take care of myself, at least in the healthy way I learned about in the hospital. OK, so now that I’m typing all this it doesn’t seem like the ECT and new meds are helping. Sigh.
Even with all this crap going on, I still feel hopeful that I can get back on track and live a healthy and happy life. At least my hope isn’t gone. I have my friends and family to think for that – they all have provided me with more support than I ever could have imagined. I’m a lucky girl. And of course, my beautiful children keep me going.
So, I can beat this. I will. I’ll feel better soon. It wouldn’t hurt for y’all to pray for me, though. I’ll take whatever I can get.
Thanks for reading, and thanks for sticking around through all my mess. Much love.
…the tough get going right? Ha, not exactly. My “tough” is getting the kids to school and maybe, and I really do want to emphasize maybe, take a shower that day. To the outside depression really seems to weaken a person but it takes a super strong person to trudge through the day (days and days and days), taking care of other people while breathing for yourself can be a job.
My point? When depression or anxiety starts to pull you down, I’ve noticed that a few things can help me crawl back up. With the help of my Dialectical Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook, which I mention in this blog, I’ve come up with both a relaxation and distraction plan to cut off the darkness when it comes. It doesn’t always help but may help you.
Distraction Plan:
I also like to say little prayers or sayings that give me peace. For example, “May God heal you, body and soul. May your pain cease. May your strength increase. May your fears be released. May love and joy surround you.”
Relaxation Plan:
If you noticed I didn’t write anything about going outdoors, not my thing. But taking a walk or soaking up some sun can do wonders, too.
I hope these lists help and hey, if they don’t, make your own damn list.
Thanks for reading. Stay in the light.
The other day my doctor suggested a couple of Ketamine infusions to do until I can do ECT. I didn’t think much of this because I’ve done several ketamine infusions in the past and they didn’t do much for me, but I learned the clinic that I was going to in Corpus was doing the infusions wrong, or perhaps not in the ideal way. Let’s put it that way.
At the old clinic they were adding benzos (Ativan, Valium) to the ketamine, which actually lowers the efficacy of the ketamine. I didn’t know that until I got to Menninger. Also, the other clinic’s protocol was to give everyone 100mg/hour no matter what. Here, they go by weight. I was skeptical of that at first but now I see why.
When you do 100 mg per hour, rather when I do 100 mg per hour, I feel like I’m in a black hole. There’s a lot of dissociation and I just feel drugged up and then I’m tired for the rest of the day. When I tried ketamine at the clinic, it was almost a religious experience. It was the most calming, most relaxing, therapeutic experience I’ve EVER had. I felt happy – and I haven’t felt happy in a loooong time.
It was amazing. Now, this infusion lasted just 40 minutes but I’ve already noticed a shift in my behavior. I made some jokes with some of the patients and staff here. I cleaned up my room and generally my mood is a bit better. I still have depression, of course, but it did provide a respite from the constant pain I’m in.
This makes me hopeful. I’m scheduled to have another ketamine treatment Monday and then later in the week, I’m due to start ECT. I’m not expecting my life to change but I’ll take any improvement from my current state. Some days it’s just so hard to breathe and it’s so exhausting to be a wife, mother, daughter, friend, etc. It’s just painful. Everything is painful, so relief is all I want. I want to be there for everyone. I want to smile and laugh – just live in something other than this awful darkness. I know I have to work on my therapy, too, and believe me I am. Everyday here is emotionally draining and I don’t think I’ve gone a day without crying, but that’s okay. I’m just trying to get to the other side.
I hope I see ya’ll there soon.
Look who has internet access! There’s so much to talk about, I don’t know where to start.
So, it’s been a week since I’ve been at the Menninger Clinic – it’s a psychiatric hospital in Houston. They’ve done a lot of psychological and cognitive testing and it turns out I’m severely depressed and I have anxiety. Duh.
Testing has also shown that I have a horrible memory, I have a hard time dealing with my emotions, I have no coping skills and my quality of life is at 25 percent. I knew the other things but when you see the results of a psychological test tell you that your quality of life sucks, and sucks bad, it makes you even more depressed. If that’s possible. And I’m here to tell you that it is.
I have a “team” that guides me through my journey here that includes a psychiatrist, psychologist, nurse, therapist and social worker. We all agreed that ECT was the way to go but what I didn’t expect was that I would have to be weaned off all of my meds. ALL OF THEM.
That’s:
Lamical
Topamax
Wellbutrin
Zoloft
Rexulti
Trentellix
Vyvanse
Klonopin
Ambien
That’s a lot. I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet. Or maybe I should’ve exploded when I was put on all that crap. I’ve had little withdrawal except for the fact that I cry at the drop of a dime. I’m not all too sure that’s not normal at this point.
It’ll probably be two more weeks before I’m off most of the meds, then I can start the ECT, which I’m excited about. Some of the girls here have done it and said they’ve felt some improvement. My doctor said he hopes he can get me back to where I was before I had my little breakdown in 2017. That would be lovely. But I’m not putting all my eggs in one basket. The program I’m in asks me to go to classes, such as cognitive behavioral therapy, dialectical behavioral therapy, self compassion, grief journeys, chemical dependence education and more. They don’t depend on biological therapies only, they make you work. And teaching you how to mentalize and employ solid coping skills is a big part of the program.
My brain is super foggy right now, so I’m going to sign off.
I hope ya’ll are staying well. I’ll try to keep up the my blog as best I can.