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anxiety

Self Care Isn't Selfish
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The Struggle is Real

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

“Do I stay up, relax and watch trash TV or do I go to bed at a decent hour?” For weeks I’ve been having this internal debate and I know I can’t be the only one. I used to go to bed at 9 pm (in the good old days) because I need A LOT of sleep but now I blow past that 9 pm mark knowing that I’ll likely regret it but I also know I need “me time.”

Surely I’m not alone in this. Especially now because the coronavirus is holding us all hostage. Don’t get me wrong, I do like being around my children but after 8-12 hours of their incessant arguing, watching freaking Peppa Pig and wanting to climb on me and whatever else, I’ve just had it. I’m touched out. I want to be on the couch, watching my shows and not asked to do one single thing, even by my husband. I don’t even like the cats on me until after I’ve chilled for an hour. It’s too much. And I know y’all feel me. At least I hope you do otherwise I need to up my meds, lol.

My usual self-care routine includes massages, getting my nails done, reading and napping. I would also go to therapy. But none of that is plausible now and I think it’s ok to mourn that. It’s ok not to enjoy every second with your kids, because this shit is hard even when you do have outlets and self-care rituals.

Staying home with the kids right now is one of the hardest things I’ve done. My 3-year-old wakes up at 5 am every morning, which means I’m up. He’s clingier than usual, most likely from the uncertainty of life, which he can probably sense from us adults. But despite his 5 am wake calls, I’ll still probably go to bed late because that’s the only alone time I’ll have all day. The only time I can eat the kids’ cupcakes. The only time nobody is shouting, “Mommy!”

This precious time to myself has become a ritual and until the schools open back up, I’ll just be exhausted and crazy looking because frankly, I’d rather have bad TV and cupcakes.

If you’d like to share your self-care rituals, please do so in the comments.

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My Mother

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

My mom is cut from a different cloth. Even from a young age, she has always done what she needed to do. At 19, her father died. She didn’t hesitate to help my Mema with the younger kids. She took a job right after high school so she could help pay bills. My mother had seven siblings but the two older siblings were married and were starting families, so she helped take care of the younger five. Still to this day she helps her siblings, financially or otherwise because that’s who she is – a caretaker.

Skipping years ahead, she got married and helped my dad and his brother open a business. She was the first employee and she excelled at it, even though it probably wasn’t her greatest passion. Still she learned everything about truck accessories for heavy duty trucks and continued to work that job for years. After some personnel issues, my mom and dad decided to open a second store, this one with my older brother at the helm. It too was a success and it still didn’t bother her talking shop about truck bumpers, wheels and other accessories. Like I said, she always did what she needed to do.

I can’t speak for my brother but I’m sure he would agree – she would do anything for us. In middle school when I developed migraines, that at times were uncontrollable and debilitating, she became my advocate. She navigated a new world of medicine and therapies and triggers. Fragrances were a trigger so she stopped wearing perfume and bought special soaps.

Years later I finally told her I had depression – bad depression. This was not her field of expertise and although she was probably really scared, she learned the ropes and how to help me calm down during a depressive episode.

When I had kids my depression worsened. Some days I couldn’t find my way out of the overwhelming sadness. I would often want to harm myself. My mom, who had never experienced mental illness herself, dug deeper and supported me the best way she knew how. It must’ve broken her heart when I became suicidal and needed intensive intervention. I stayed at a psychiatric treatment center for 6 long weeks. But she was there, helping take care of my children, visiting me and encouraging me once again.

As I’ve now stabilized, I think about the calls I made to her crying, suicidal. Her love, strength and endurance has never wavered and she just listened, not knowing how to help her daughter stop being suicidal. I firmly believe she was meant to be my mom, to help someone who struggled daily with invisible demons. Someone who wasn’t cut from that seemingly magical cloth. But I have learned from her, too. My bouts with depression have taught me strength, most importantly, compassion. My mom has been my advocate, leading me to be an advocate for those who suffer from depression and anxiety. Maybe to those who haven’t had support and are afraid of speaking out because of the stigma surrounding mental illness. Maybe I’m more like my mom than I think. At least I’d like to think so.

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I don’t do math.

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

This week I have made sure that my oldest (who is in pre-k) is doing some kind of work. Last week was such a shitshow and probably the week before that. But guess what? I can’t remember. I’m proud of us for doing some of the work provided by her teachers and also doing ABCmouse. I’m also proud of us for not getting into a knife fight with each other, but that could still happen, especially since this week’s worksheets involve fractions and a bit of math.

Anyone who knows me well can attest to my hatred of and subpar skills in math. I failed math courses in junior high and high school. Amazingly, I did fine in college but I think I took “Math for Liberal Arts Majors,” so there’s that. I know that I am not a dumb person but I just can’t do math problems. The numbers get scrambled in my head and even on paper I invert them. I wish I could blame my ECT treatments for my stubborn and forgetful brain when it comes to math but those treatments came decades later.

When I had children, I can clearly remember telling my husband, who is a literal genius, that he would have to help the kids with their math homework. And even though this is just the most basic preschool math in the homeschool packets, I still start sweating and stammering while I’m trying to give instructions to my poor daughter. She’d tell me how to do it and I’d get flustered because how would I know if she were right? Lol. Nothing makes you feel like a bigger moron than being confused over your kid’s homework.

What also doesn’t help is my daughter’s attention span (or lack thereof). She has no interest in doing worksheets and I can’t say I blame her. I can’t imagine how she feels – her impatient, non-math knowing mom trying to teach her when she wants to go outside or play with dolls or get on the iPad. Or stick a pencil through her eye, lol.

But the truth is that I’m lucky to be able to teach her during these times, and though she might deny it, she’s lucky too. To have a parent who has time to devote to her work. We are a privileged family, and in addition to math, I also hope she learns how good she has it and is appreciative.

I make light of the this situation because I’m hopeful it will be over in a few months. I’m hopeful she’ll enter Kindergarten and do great. I’m also hopeful her teachers can correct any wrongdoing on my part.

But she’ll be fine. I’ll be fine (so long as I never have to do math).

We will all be fine. Our children will thrive and be stronger for what they’re having to endure. They will probably learn more about love, strength, community and generosity – along with other things you don’t always find in a textbook. And to me, that’s most important to learn.

 

 

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Safe Haven

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

As soon as the coronavirus started rapidly spreading, I started to panic. I panicked even more when, while the kids and I were at my mom’s house for Spring Break, the schools across the state starting closing. When lines wrapped around grocery stores. When my husband started to worry about business. What really bothered me the most is that I had to be with the kids at home 24/7 with virtually no breaks. I wasn’t trying to be selfish but I was worried about my fickle mental health. I tried to put a brave face on but no matter how hard I tried, the uncertainty and chaos had already sneaked inside their little lives.

The first things I noticed were changes in Eli. Usually, when I put him to bed I could sing him a song, tell him goodnight and he’d be out by 6:30 pm. When we returned to our home, Eli was afraid of the dark and wouldn’t go to bed without me. Then he started waking during the night. Now he’s up around 5:30 am, despite having an alarm clock that lets him know when he can get out of bed.

And that’s not all. Eli has started to hit – he’ll hit his sister, me and even his dad. One time he hit me so hard he knocked my glasses off and I spanked him. I cried so hard after that. We don’t even believe in spanking but I was at a loss. It was after that I started thinking – this virus has wreaked havoc on all our lives. It’s stressful no matter who you are or what you do. I know how stressful and anxiety-inducing it is for me but I hadn’t really thought about how this situation affects our children.

These sweet children are experiencing something that not even parents have been through. They’re out of routine. They miss their teachers and friends. Older ones are worried about high school graduation and and lamenting the fact they likely won’t return to their school. Some kids are experiencing death of their loved ones without ever having said goodbye. It’s depressing to think about but it is the reality of many. These are dark times.

No matter how old your children are, they’re still kids (or young adults). We all have to dig deep and find the resolve to create a safe place – to be their safe place. I’m not saying never share what’s going on in the world with them but if they do act out, and I’m guessing many will, we have to let them fall apart and put them back together again.

As a mom with depression who has “vacationed” at a psychiatric facility, I’ve seen very dark times. I’ve been scared. But nothing scares me more than thinking my children could get lost in the “dark” – the uncertainty and depressing road the weary world is traveling right now. So, of course I’ll stick to my mental wellness plan and I’ll take care of myself. Because I have to. I will protect my tender-hearted babies from the dark until my dying days.

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Remembering

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

As y’all are all well aware, it’s been weeks since we started self-quarantining and though I feel stretched thin by homeschooling and being with the kids 24/7, I have discovered an advantage I have – my ECT treatments (for depression/anxiety) and the holes that they left in my memory.

I once read that (usually) people who suffer from ECT memory loss only lose memories around the time of treatment. That hasn’t been my case. My treatments have erased memories from years ago. I’ve forgotten people. I often have no idea how I’ve met my friends on my Facebook page. It’s been embarrassing and frustrating and that’s why I considered it such a burden in my life.

Until now.

To maintain even a modicum of sanity, I have turned to my favorite books, TV shows and movies. I picked up my favorite book last week (Summer Sisters, Judy Blume) and although I did remember most of it, there were delicious new details that I consumed – they felt new anyway. I was also able to watch one of my fave shows again. This time I couldn’t remember plots and characters. I have to admit, it was nice watching like it was the first time. I cried during the series finale, probably much like the first time I watched. Everything is new again.

I began to think – my memory loss isn’t such a bad thing. It was then I realized I could apply this thinking in other aspects of my life. Mainly, with the children. Being home with them all day reminded me of when they were babies. The days were long and hard then, too. And yes, they’re older now but I can rediscover parts of my babies that I otherwise might have forgotten.

Isla’s laugh.

Eli’s all consuming love for his Weerows.

How bright and tender hearted they are.

I’m memorizing their faces, gestures and little quirks that make them who they are – (hopefully) better versions of me and my husband. This time I’m documenting it all. I hope they remember the games we played during this time, the pictures we drew and stories we read.

I don’t know how my brain chooses to keep or erase memories. I’m sure some might want to forget these past few weeks forever, as thousands are dying and sick. And while I’m ok with blocking that out, I will remember that it was a privilege staying home with my family.

That I’ll never forget.

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Darkness

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

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

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Kids

Hangin’ Tough

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

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.

 

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Punishment

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

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.

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Out of the ashes, baby

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

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.

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Exhaustion

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

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.

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