Tag:

anxiety

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Half Glass Full

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

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Preface: A few weeks ago I fell into a depressive episode, the first since leaving The Menninger Clinic 5 years ago. During that 6-week stay, my medicine was changed, I did intensive therapy, took classes and started electroconvulsive therapy treatments. In the past couple of weeks, I’ve been irritable, fatigued, had a loss of appetite, had problems showering, been sleeping more, etc. A week ago I started a new medication that’s used off-label for treatment-resistant depression. It has been a very difficult time for me. 

I’ve been on my new medication for about a week now. I’ve read that it can start working as soon as a week, but won’t be completely effective until about 6 – 8 weeks. But the past two days have been good, and I feel excited and hopeful about what may come.

Earlier this week was challenging. I had two commitments at NAMI that I thought I could handle but at last minute (day before) I panicked, had an anxiety attack and knew I couldn’t make it. I didn’t know what to do until it just came to me — “I should ask for help.” You might think that should be an automatic thought, but I had never asked my friends at NAMI to help like me like that. I’ve asked one or two for help, but never said I was flailing and needed help now.

So I asked.

Within minutes, my NAMI commitments were covered, and grateful tears streamed down my face. I received supporting and kind texts telling me to rest and take care of myself.

The next day one of the Leadership Team members came to do a “wellness check.” She’s a dear friend and gently told me we needed to get organized when it came to covering my future events and presentations. I told her my original plan was not to do those things and focus on what I could do at home. Meetings and presentations are very overwhelming to me right now, and I certainly wanted help with that. So we made a plan, and I felt so relieved. Before I would put meetings or presentations on my calendar, thinking I’d be okay by then, but then I’d have anxiety attacks when it came time to go. This would prevent us from scrambling the day before or day of and prevent a lot of stress.

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I talked to most of the Leadership Team, and everybody has been so supportive. They want me well in time to go to the big NAMI Texas Conference Nov. 7 to Nov. 10. That gives me about a month. I feel like I can handle that, and that will give my medicine more time to work.

Even though I’ve had a couple good days this week, I’m still struggling with fatigue and taking showers. I also got on the scale today just to check, not thinking there’d be a big change, and I’ve lost 6 pounds since this depressive episode started. I’ve noticed it has been harder to eat, but I didn’t realize it was that bad. My doctor told me to stop losing weight, but I’m thinking he’d be understanding with everything that’s going on (maybe). So now I have one more thing to worry about, but I guess it’s better than me binge eating.

In other, positive news, I’m not napping so much during the day, even on the weekends. I’m gearing up to start walking on the treadmill in the mornings. I bought new workout clothes and (read Isla) updated my playlist (all Taylor Swift). I feel optimistic about taking care of myself, but I don’t want too excited because I know fatigue and apathy can take over anytime. But I want to stay positive. If I can just get 20 minutes of walking in each day, that’ll help stifle the depression big time. Oh, and I plan on going outside for some sunshine, too.

I’m going to do everything I’m able to get better. I just gotta strike while the iron’s hot. And it’s warming up.

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Not a Clean Freak, Just a Freak

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I am so messy. And lazy – too lazy to clean up the messes and clutter that seems to accumulate on every surface in my house. We have a housekeeper who comes four to five days a week, and it’s still a mess. It bothers me a lot, but apparently not so much for me to change, even though I desperately want to.

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I love seeing my friends’ houses (where there are kids living there also) online with their tidy houses, and I’m in such awe. Some might say that’s just the social media side of the homes we’re seeing, but I actually go to my friends’ houses and they’re in such better shape than mine.

I try to declutter as much as possible. I go through these spurts where I just HAVE to clean and declutter, but that doesn’t happen often, and the clutter is back within a week or so. There is a huge part of me that is super organized and neat and on top of things all the time, but the unorganized, untidy and apathetic version of me is in the driver’s seat most of the time.

A lot of it is my depression. I’m not trying to make excuses, but when I have to allot my little amount of energy each day, something’s always got to give. And that’s usually housework. Even though I’m not going through a severe depressive episode right now, I still have to fight depression (and anxiety) daily. Personal hygiene, like taking a showering and brushing my teeth daily, is still a struggle. Doing my hair is a difficult chore. Most days I only have it in me to wash my hair every other day and let it dry in a braid so I don’t have to style it, which is still miles from not showering for a week at a time when I was going through an episode. And brushing my teeth is just hard. I don’t know why. I mean, these are basic human functions, but they sap a lot of my energy, and I only have so much in during the day.

Then I must save some time and energy for my kids. I have to be up 5 a.m., make lunches, pack water and other school supplies, take them to school, keep up with Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts, therapy sessions and tennis lessons. My kids, of course, are a priority and there’s always homework, projects and reading to do. Both my kids have anxiety and ADHD so I find they need a lot of personal attention, which is what I’m here for. I like spending time with them, but it can become draining, especially if I’m not reaching out for help when I need it or practicing self-care.

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Then there’s NAMI GCC. I love NAMI Greater Corpus Christi. I’ve been the Affiliate Leader for almost a year, and I’m grateful they haven’t asked me to leave, lol. Even though I love, love, love NAMI, it can become quite stressful. I volunteer because when I was going through my dark, dark time nobody was talking about mental health/illness. I wanted to share my story and help others through what I went through so they wouldn’t feel so alone. I like helping people, and NAMI is a great organization to do that. And the people are amazing. But when you have a Leadership role and you’re teaching a class or facilitating a support group, it can get heavy. Sometimes I feel like the success of the affiliate is on my shoulders, and I never want to let everyone down. It’s a lot of pressure. Especially when we’re fundraising or planning a big event. I can get overwhelmed with my responsibilities and forget our mission at times. It’s also difficult to balance my family life with young kids and a husband who owns his own company, is a very active board member at the local community college, among other things.

I also write columns for the local newspaper and blogs for a mental health website

With the kids, NAMI and writing, I must take multiple breaks. If I’m socializing, I need a few days to recuperate. If I don’t, I start operating on “low-battery mode,” and I’m more at risk of shutting down where I can’t function much at all.

I realize everyone gets busy. Most of my friends have kids and a full-time job. Does that mean they don’t clean their house?

I’m betting they do, which makes me feel even worse.

I wish I had the energy to clean and declutter. Can I live with the fact that my house is messy and that we have a 5-day-a-week housekeeper? Probably not. I feel so shamed at times (like when my parents come visit). My dad, mom and brother (and his wife) are so neat! What happened to me?

Usually when I need to make change in my life, the first thing that has to happen is that I have to get sick of my own bullshit.

I’m about halfway there.

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It’s All So Pretty

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
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It is no secret that I like nice things. The problem is that I like them a little too much and compulsively shop until I get in trouble. Shopping has been one of those things I do (like binge eat) when I get depressed or upset, so my new therapist and I have been talking about it. She kept asking why do you need all those things when you already have enough? And do I do it to impress people or try to be someone I’m not…?

I can’t answer her. I don’t know why I buy expensive jewelry, shoes and purses. I’m not trying to impress anybody! My therapist and I discussed it some more and finally we decided that it doesn’t matter what the root of the action is, I just have to find something healthy to replace it. Or else.

That was last week. Then today, after taking pictures with my family after my daughter’s award ceremony, I went home and looked at the photos. I was mortified. I looked so awful. My skirt was awkward and wrinked, my shirt was awful and my hair looked like crap. As soon as I could, I climbed out of those clothes and threw them in the donate bin.

“I looked fat and ugly,” I told my friend later. She told me I was not, but when we stopped texting I couldn’t stop thinking about how gross I looked. I actually changed clothes after that 4 times. I just gave up, threw on a dress and chalked it up to it being a “blah” day.

Tonight I was sitting in a support group when somebody was talking about lessening your load. He said that everybody has a backpack and rocks that make it heavy, but you don’t have to carry such a heavy load. Well as he was talking I thought about my “backpac”k – then I thought, “Ha, mine would be a designer purse.” Then I looked down at my big new bag David bought me, which was at my feet. I then glanced at my feet, adorned with new Gucci slides that cost a small fortune. Then my glance fell on my dress, which was about $300. I asked myself why I needed all that, then thought “But it’s so pretty.”

I tuned out the speaker, and it was like sirens in my head.

I buy those things because I think they’re pretty and I’m so ugly and fat.

Could it be that simple though?

I’ve been obsessed with how I look, especially what I weigh, for decades. About the same amount of time I started buying all these “pretty things.”

I’ve had a breast reduction, a tummy tuck and gastric sleeve surgery. I also have a formidable eating disorder. I’m now 75-pounds lighter than my highest weight. I’m a SIZE 6 and haven’t been in a single digit size since I was 6 years old. Still I hate my photos. I know deep in my heart that I will never be thin enough to assuage my fears of not being good enough.

For the 2,341st time, when is enough enough?

I know that I’m not really fat and ugly. Sometimes I know that I’m thin. Logically, I know I’m not fat and ugly, but it’s like I have blinders on. I’ve said over and over that I don’t want Isla to ever go through this, shouldn’t that should prompt me to say that I love my body no matter what.? And actually believe it? To tell myself I’m beautiful no matter what. That it doesn’t matter what I weight or look like at all.

But it would be lies. All lies. And how sad for my daughter who I’m trying to break this generational cycle of self-hatred for when I can’t even look at a picture of myself without throwing my clothes away. And deleting pictures of me with my family. I tell my daughter that she’s beautiful and that it doesn’t matter how much she weighs or what she looks like.

It does matter to me. Because the truth is I don’t think I’m good enough despite my accomplishments. Despite people telling me I am good enough, thin enough, pretty enough.

I’d like to say this situation will prompt me to turn over a leaf, but it won’t. I’ll tell myself that I love my body and how I look and that I’m good enough — the whole nine yards.

At least while my daughter is listening.

And until she hears and believes me, I’ll keep writing check after check to my therapist.

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Hair on My Head, Part II

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
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Not too long ago I blogged about whether I should stop my preventive migraine medication because I thought it was making me lose hair and changing the texture. I was hesitant to do so because it also helped me control my appetite, but I stopped anyway because I was so obsessed with my hair.

I didn’t think what it would do to my migraines, and now I’ve had a migraine for a week straight. Man, I’m stupid. So last Friday I started back on the Topamax again. Sigh. I honestly didn’t give much thought to my migraines because I’m on another preventive medication, but clearly I need both. I forgot how badly it sucks to have a migraine every.single.day.

I’ve had to leave work functions early. I couldn’t do anything fun on the weekend. I threw up multiple times. I basically lied around the whole week waiting for relief. And I’d get a few hours then the pain would bounce right back. It’ll take me a while to titrate up to my normal dose, so I guess I gotta be patient. My specialty, lol.

I can’t believe I used to suffer from chronic migraine, where I’d have 16 or more migraines in ONE MONTH. No wonder I had depression. No telling which came first. A true chicken or the egg situation. You just can’t live a live with that much chronic pain. Sucks.

Maybe the meds aren’t the reason for my hair changes. I mean, I’ll be 40 in six months. Maybe it’s hormones. It’ll be fine. It’s just hair. I’d rather have little to no migraines. I’ve lived far too good a life to go backward. I’ve seen the light.

I feel terrible for those who have chronic pain; my heart goes out to you.

And now I don’t have to worry about my weight fluctuating, which is also a huge struggle for me (because of my eating disorder). The only downside to that is the Topamax makes all carbonated drinks taste like crap, so I don’t enjoy my beloved Diet Cokes like usual, but that’s a bad habit I could stand to lose.

All I see is what I stand to gain.

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The Plunge

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

For the past two-plus years, I have been the communications director for NAMI Greater Corpus Christi, and I have loved every minute. This organization has helped in my recovery so much that I now associate the two. You won’t find a more loving, judgement-free group of people in the world. We refer to our tight-knit group as the NAM FAM. We’re even presenting at a NAMI conference about how our NAM FAM works and helps us give others support and education.

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When I was first approached about the communications position, I was a bit wary, but it wasn’t a paid position so I didn’t feel suffocated by the job. For some reason I didn’t feel like I was beholden to something if I weren’t paid. My therapist tells me that’s wrong, though. I’ve never held a job down for more than two years, maybe three, because something was always at play — severe migraines or my depression, anxiety, eating disorder, etc. I missed work. I felt guilty and unworthy.

But at NAMI is different. I don’t mind doing the work. I show up when I can, and I always try to do my best. At one point, I thought I might take the affiliate over in about five years or so should the opportunity present itself. I guess I imagined I would have all my stuff together then, but let’s face it — I might never have it together. But the idea of “5-year Heather” meant that I would be more responsible, consistent, mature, hard working and so on.

But as it turns out, five years has now turned into now.

My close friend, the affiliate leader and program director is stepping down because her husband got a new job, and they’re relocating. I’m heartbroken of course that I will no longer have my fearless leader and good friend, but I’m really happy for them because it seems like a good move.

Naturally, because I had mentioned taking over in the future, it made me the top candidate for the job.

But I’m not “5-year Heather yet!” I thought. I have chronic illnesses and two young children, all of which take up my time. A lot. And surely they’ve noticed that I’m not a Certified Adult yet.

Taking the position (I have to be voted in by the Leadership Team first) would mean that I HAVE to be more responsible. NAMI GCC’s volunteers will be looking to me to make sound decisions about the organization and represent it well in the public. I will have to show up, which is something I’ve never been good at, honestly. I’ll have to be a Certified Adult (does anyone know the process on this?).

As I ponder these new responsibilities, I’m reminded that this was something I asked for. Something I wanted to do.

When I was going through the worst depressive episode in my life, I felt alone. Nobody talked about the cruel and debilitating realities. My friends and family didn’t know what they knew then — they couldn’t have helped me even if I did tell them what I was facing. I spent each day hoping I wouldn’t succumb to the persistent voice in my head telling me to kill myself. I hated life, and I hated who I had become. That was before I received help at a psych hospital.

My husband always says that if you have the ability to help others then it becomes your obligation to do so. That’s what I want to do. I want to let others know that they are not alone, that recovery is possible, that the dark doesn’t last. I want NAMI GCC to be the top mental health organization that other agencies and community members think of.

I want to help in anyway I can. And I see now that desire is stronger than being inconsistent or immature.

I will be so humbled and grateful to the Leadership Team should they appoint me affiliate leader. I hope it is my calling, and that our small, but mighty, organization thrives. It assures me that our team of volunteers is the best of the best, and I want to reflect that.

Am I scared? Yes, but I know what it’s like to be brave even when the odds were stacked against me. I’ll tell myself what I tell my kids: You can hard things.

Sometimes the most difficult thing is to just jump in.

So it looks like I’m taking the plunge.

Update: Saturday, Aug. 26: The Leadership Team voted me in as affiliate leader, effective Sept 15.

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Fearless..?

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

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I was meeting a friend for coffee to go over some stuff last week, a friend who I didn’t know that well. Although earlier that week I talked more about my story during a volunteer orientation at the NAMI office. I knew bits and pieces of hers and I heard more of her story that night, too. It made me want to know her more, and I was glad that we were working on fundraiser ideas together, and even happier that we had the some vision.

We started talking about getting to know each other better, and she mentioned that she was inspired by my story because she had a family member who had a mental health condition and she had hope that said family member would be highly functioning and happy one day because she saw it in me. I’m not trying to toot my horn here, I have a point.

Then she said I was fearless. I kind of scoffed at that, it’s not a word I’m used to hearing. Matter of fact, if I listed 100 adjectives about myself, fearless wouldn’t make an appearance once.

But I really appreciated her saying it.

We finished our work, and went about our days, but I couldn’t get our conversation out of my head. I started thinking my new, dear friend was right. I am fearless. Sometimes.

When I first started this blog and admitted I had depression and anxiety — that took guts. I felt like no one else was talking about it. At that time, I didn’t know about NAMI GCC. When I started writing Letters to the Editor about my conditions and eventually turn it into a column, that was fearless. It’s hard to put all your business in a newspaper. And I felt I was still doing it all my own. Then State Rep. Todd Hunter asked me to speak at his (virtual) Suicide Prevention Symposium, and it felt like I was telling my darkest secrets, which I guess I was.

It was after that night NAMI GCC found me, and I no longer alone. Don’t get me wrong, I had an amazing support group after I left the psychiatric hospital, but NAMI GCC just got me — they knew what it was like to have depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, etc. It was a different kind of support, not better, just different.

In some ways, I am fearless. I mean, I did write a column about not being able to brush my teeth in the newspaper this past Monday. A lot of people won’t understand it, but I know my people will feel relieved someone is speaking their language. We gotta stick together.

And that’s the whole reason why I do it. Because when I first started writing my blog, I felt so alone. Nobody was talking about mental health, as far as I knew. Feeling alone just intensified my depression, and I don’t want anyone to feel like I felt then.

We have to bring it all to the light, all together.

But all of us with a diagnosis are fearless; that’s just what it takes to fight.

I’m thankful to my new friend for reminding me of who I was..or rather, who I still am. we

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Valentine’s Day 2023

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

Yesterday one of my columns ran about loving yourself and being your own Valentine. Sometimes I tend to give good advice but not always follow it myself, but this time I really mean it — I love and appreciate myself. Do I treat myself badly at times? Sure. I’m very bad at self-talk right now, but I catch it and tell myself something nice. But I’ve learned to appreciate myself, and my body, for who I am, who I was and who I hope to be.

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Here’s a little snippet from the column, “Valentine’s Day has never been my favorite holiday. Until my marriage (10 years ago), I wasn’t a fan — of love, any possible paramours and especially of myself. 

What a shame. I feel like I’ve missed out on something huge. My chest tightens, and regret fuels tears. I didn’t care for myself back then. I believed what poisonous lies others were saying about me and didn’t notice how they replaced the words of my inner monologue with theirs. My body dysmorphia formed and, shortly after, my eating disorder. It’s more complicated than that, but I didn’t see a connection. ” 

It’s so true. I believed others who called me fat. From that I understood I was worthless, ugly and stupid because that’s what society tells you, right? I was first called fat in the 5th grade then on and off until my senior year in high school. I was held captive by the scale and even now I still get caught in its trap.

But. A powerful but. Now I know I’m not fat. I wasn’t fat then (fat isn’t something you are, it’s something you have). I wasn’t ugly, stupid, lazy or anything close. I was me, listening to the wrong people, not celebrating myself as I should have. And I really should have because I am amazing. I took me about 38 years and a six-week hospital stay to figure it out, but that’s okay, because I did. Now I’m living the best years of my life.

And now, during this month of self-love, I appreciate myself, all of me. How far I’ve come, the accomplishments I never thought possible and the lofty goals I’ve set because of that.

Just a few years ago I couldn’t get out of bed or shower because of my major depression and anxiety. I was a bare minimum mom and wife. I counted down until I could go back to sleep, and when I was awake, I was in so much misery. Thank God I’m not in that place anymore.

Gratitude is a huge part of my journey, even when it comes to loving and accepting myself.

I want to thank y’all, too. For reading my columns, blogs, dropping me a note, showing up to NAMI events or just sending good vibes my way. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. You are a big, wonderful part of my recovery, and I love that.

And I love me.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

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A Binge is Not a Binge Unless it is But it’s Not

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

So if y’all have been reading, you know I’m going through a tough time, but things have been better the past week and I don’t know why. I was bingeing a lot last week, and I do mean a lot, but I’ve seemed to kick the habit for the time being.

It was weird. I haven’t binged like that in a loooong time. I was eating sugar powdered donuts, candy, more candy, popcorn, beef jerky, more candy, donuts and more. I gained about 7 pounds, but now I’ve got it back down to 4. Nothing really made me happy except the Smart Food popcorn. I don’t know why. I’m still have a 100-calorie bag a day because they are freaking delicious.

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But after a few days I thought to myself, “okay girl, you’ve had your fun, now it’s time to do the work.” That’s the first time I’ve said/done that. Weird. Growth. So I started wearing real clothes again – no more leggings and big shirts or sweatshirts. The numbers on the scale don’t mean anything unless you get back into your real clothes and feel the gain.

So I put on some jeans and a shirt. They are tighter, not completely uncomfortable, but I can’t tell the difference in where I was before. This is a good coping skill for me, because I don’t like to be uncomfortably, emotionally or physically. I still look fly though. It’s just a reminder that there are consequences when I eat unhealthy foods and don’t take care of myself. I don’t don’t like knowing I did that or the guilt that follows.

Bingeing isn’t the big problem, though. It’s a symptom. Of depression, of stress. And while I feel good now, I wasn’t feeling good when I started doing it so it makes me feel like it was due to losing my friend or just the general stress in my life. Probably losing my friend. But there’s nothing I can do about it right now. Except accept it and go about my business, and that’s my plan.

Speaking of business, things are good. I have a lot to focus on right now, and it has been so fun. So much to look forward to. I’m working on staying in the present and practice gratitude, as well.

I’m doing all that I can. I know I just said that.

Sometimes if you repeat something enough times, it becomes the truth.

Things are good. I’m great. Life is good. I’m so grateful.

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Gains and Losses

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I’ve been trying to keep busy so I don’t stop and realize just how depressed I am over losing my best friend. I haven’t contacted her in over a week. I’ve let her know that I’m here, and that’s all I can really do. So I’ve tried to just not think about it but then it manifests in other ways: hello, binge eating disorder. It’s not that I’ve binged on a meal here and there, I overeat or binge EVERY meal, and when I got on the scale tonight (don’t ever get on the scale at night), I weighed 10 pounds more than usual. Ten pounds!

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I’ve worked really hard to get to a healthy weight, and now it’s slipping away because I can’t get my shit together. I’ve talked to my therapist and she has given me healthy coping skill to do, but I always fall back on the unhealthy ones.

I realize it’s time to change.

All the snacks in the world won’t bring my friend back.

All the snacks in the world won’t bring my friend back.

Tears threaten to fall as I write that twice.

I know what to do: I need to throw out all the junk food. I need to be mindful when I eat. I need to listen to my body and its hunger cues. I don’t need to freak out over 10 pounds. I might be a little more uncomfortable, but it’s temporary. This is all temporary.

Until it’s not.

Sitting with my feelings, being in the moment and dealing with the pain is so hard. I’ve never been one to actually do it, but the only way out is through, right? It has been four weeks, and I’m still here. Just a bit heavier, in so many ways.

I’m resilient, thanks to my mental health conditions and journey, so I know I’ll make it through. It just sucks now. I want my security blankets: bingeing, shopping, using too much anxiety meds, sleeping too much. But I know that if they haven’t worked in the past, AND THEY HAVEN’T, they’re not going to work now.

Binge eating does not soothe me the way I want. It actually stresses me out and only soothes me for a few seconds. The aftermath is painful, and I feel very guilty once I see the bottom of the popcorn bag or candy wrapper.

I’m throwing away my snacks today. It’s the beginning of a new week. Good things are happening at work, I’m very excited. I have a lot to look forward to and a lot to let go of. That can be very freeing.

I’m ready.

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Prose Poem — Don’t Be Sad, It’ll Get Better

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
prose-poem-9683876

I’ve been in pain. I’ve wanted to die. Even now in recovery, painful things still happen. My heart breaks, but I know I’ll survive it because I’ve done it again and again. It baffles me how resilient I am and how the pain fades but is automatically replaced with wisdom and hope. I almost don’t get to mourn, second nature kicks in. I’ll be okay. Tomorrow will be better. Mainly because they’re all watching and expecting it.

Heather Loeb

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