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anxiety blog

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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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Pump My Brakes

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

NAMI had an event last night, and I’ll admit, I was riled up. I don’t think in a bad way; I just get excited, talk fast and get a little high strung. I think I’m probably always high strung, but I’m ok with that.

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I didn’t feel stressed at all — I was speaking at the event, and I wasn’t in charge of anything except our stuffed llama and his accessories (that’s another story for another time). Well, I had misplaced his accessories and started asking my cohorts if they had seen the llama’s accoutrements. One of my buddies helped me look, and after finding them, he said he could teach me some strategies to decrease my anxiety.

I didn’t even feel anxious, but perhaps I was. I told my cohort that I did have ways to help me calm down and that I appreciated the offer. He told me to visualize my mind as a garden. That you can’t help what grows there, such as weeds, but you can pull the weeds out and keep you garden looking good. He said it a lot more eloquently.

I loved that.

And he’s not the first one to suggest I’m too anxious.

So maybe what I think is baseline for me is really a bit much for others. Granted I had taken my Adderall late in the day yesterday, but still. The point is maybe I should pump my brakes and keep a tighter hold on anxiety. Or loosen my grip?

I’ve never had a “green thumb” but it sounds like my garden could use some weeding.

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It’s Not the Depression That Gets You…

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

A friend asked me to send her a link of my articles regarding anxiety and what helps. I quickly did a search for my columns at the Caller-Times, but I noticed that 1. there weren’t many and 2. I didn’t give any advice about what to do, I just talked about what it was.

I did write more blogs about it, so I sent those. But it made me think — I still don’t have a handle on my anxiety. It has been three years since leaving the Menninger Clinic yet I have few ideas on how to cope, even for myself.

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As of now, I’ll do some deep breathing or box breathing. I’ll take some anxiety meds (which usually help very little). I’ll talk to my husband or a friend about what I’m feeling. I’ll get under my weighted blanket, which honestly feels the best — when an anxiety attack occurs, I often feel like my insides are trying to get outside of my body. Weird, I know. I digress. A lot of times, I’ll slip and overeat on snacks or candy. That would be an unhealthy coping skill. I used to get weekly massages, but now I don’t. I haven’t seen a difference in anxiety levels.

Even if some combination of these things helps, it doesn’t make it go away completely. And the anxiety always comes back. Most people think it’s just everyday worries, but it’s not like that. It’s often worst-case scenarios that get trapped in my brain and intrusive thoughts that I can’t control. I counter them by praying over and over to the point where it gets obsessive. I’ll try to distract myself. It’s hard. And depression is hard, too. I am in no way saying it’s easy, but at least I get relief from the crushing sadness, fatigue and apathy. I never get a break from anxiety.

And if you Google tips on coping with anxiety, you get some annoying answers. I say annoying, because while these tips do help some, they don’t help someone like me who does them anyway and who has a severe anxiety disorder.

For example:

  • Get enough sleep
  • Exercise
  • Eat a healthy diet
  • Maintain a positive attitude
  • Try yoga
  • Watch for triggers

I guess we get the same trite answers because nobody knows how to really help — and again, I’m talking about people with severe anxiety, not those with day-to-day worries (not that I’m discounting them either).

So really all I know that helps in the moment in my weighted blanket. But the problem with that is I’m not always home when anxiety strikes. Breathing helps, too. Sometimes singing at the top of my lungs in the car helps. Oh, and bingeing on my favorite shows. I’ve watched them all 100 times. The familiarity is comforting. Nothing new is going to surprise me. It’s just the same old characters doing the same old things. That may seem sad to you, but it’s calming.

I gotta do what I gotta do.

It’s just that sometimes that’s not enough.

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Kids

Back to School Anxiety – How to Help Your Child

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
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I always hated going back to school and leaving summer vacation behind. I would get anxious about the new year, wondering what friends I’d have in my class and which teacher I’d get. And I would worry about hypothetical tests and projects that I just knew I’d get bad grades on. There was such a heaviness when school rolled around, erasing all the chill I had acquired that summer.
I can’t imagine what it’s like as a kid now. They’re dealing with so much more: the pandemic, trauma of frequent school shootings and increased bullying. It’s scary, and it’s something that none of our generations has seen before.
So here’s what I’m going to do with my soon-to-be second grader and Kindergartener to help with the transition. I hope it helps our collective mental health.

  1. We’re going to get back into our school routine, i.e. waking up earlier, getting dressed first thing and eating breakfast right away
  2. Talk about what’s making them nervous. Both of my kids have new teachers this year, so I know that’s a source of anxiety. We can talk about that and anything else that’s bothering them.
  3. Empathize with my kids. Whatever it is that’s causing anxiety, I need to listen and show empathy. I’ll try not to brush off their feelings, instead I’ll validate their worries and concerns.
  4. I’ll encourage my kids to talk about their fears or how their day went. I’ll also give them tips on self-care (healthy self-care and coping skills) and how it can help their stress levels.
  5. I’ll be present. When my kids get home, I’ll push my work aside, put my phone away and concentrate on them. They may want alone time to decompress, but they will know that I’m available and there.

Signs of Anxiety in Kids (www.verywellfamily.com)

  • Appear more clingy than normal
  • Be restless and fidgety
  • Complain of stomachaches
  • Display changes in eating and sleeping habits
  • Express negative thoughts or worries
  • Get upset or angry more quickly
  • Have bouts of unexplained crying
  • Struggle to concentrate

To learn more about kids and mental health, please visit the NAMI.org website.

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High-Functioning Depression

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

First let me start by saying this is not a real thing. I mean it’s real because people are making it real, but high-functioning depression (or anxiety) is not a medical diagnosis.

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As previously mentioned, I’ve been feeling down for the past couple of weeks; I had to go into Low Battery Mode to conserve energy. But even though almost every day has been a struggle, I’ve still been functioning at a high level. It’s odd, because I’m used to extremes — down and out or walking on sunshine. Here I am able to get up early in the morning, take a shower, get the kids to camp, do the work I need to do for NAMI GCC, get school paperwork organized, etc.

Maybe it’s not about being highly functional — maybe it’s about keeping busy so I don’t have time to think about how depressed I am. Epiphany…?

No, I don’t think that’s it, because if it were a bad depressive episode I were going through, I wouldn’t have the energy to do any of those things. This is just a blip; I already feel better and the waves of sadness, loneliness and self-loathing are fewer and farther between. Thank God. It’s terrifying to think all the progress I’ve made could be erased, or that my happiness could be taken away so fast and for no reason. I guess the reason is because my neurons are unruly. That’s hardly fair. But it does makes me grateful for the precious time I have with my friends and family and the time I spend with myself smiling and enjoying the color of the water, a good book, the taste of Chick-fil-a nuggets, laughing with my best friend, a nap under a warm blanket and bingeing on my favorite shows. Totally priceless.

I can’t wait to get back there. I’m so close, I know it.

Until then, I’ll remind myself that these blues hanging around are temporary. My head is still above water. I’m still highly functional.

So, I guess it is a real thing.

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