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generalized anxiety disorder

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My Eating Disorder in a Pandemic

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
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I’m struggling.

Recently, I blogged about gaining 15 pounds (thanks, COVID) and how discouraged I was. I know it’s not the end of the world, but I ruminate about each pound every day. It makes me feel ugly and unworthy. I try to make healthier choices, but I get dismayed any time I veer off my healthy course.

And then another part of me takes over, and I’m empowered. I tell myself that I’m beautiful no matter what. That I need to learn to love myself despite what the scale says.

I’m battling low self-esteem and an eating disorder (Binge Eating Disorder). A year ago I had the gastric sleeve surgery, hoping it would physically limit the amount of food I could eat, but I didn’t resolve my issues with my eating disorder, and I pushed the limits of my smaller stomach, eating so much that it was hard to breathe, not to mention painful.

Now, I can’t stop bingeing. I feel like I always need a treat, something to escape into, but I can’t figure out why I feel the need to escape so frequently. Maybe from stress of the pandemic? And my “treats” often turn into a punishment because I eat so much, too much for my stomach to hold. Too much shame to derive any pleasure in the binge. So, maybe it’s all punishment — for what, I don’t know.

It definitely doesn’t feel good, aside from the initial pleasure of the food hitting my palate, but it never lasts. It’s temporary, but the shame and pain from doing it is often permanent.

And then, in between binges, I stare into the mirror and try to love and appreciate my body, which has birthed two amazing kids. I breastfed them, sustained them with this body. I live here, in this 180-pound body that holds all my essence and what makes me me. I reject the idea that I’m ugly, fat and less than. I’m a child of God and wonderfully made. I’m just as beautiful outside as I am inside, and my light shines regardless of my weight. My worth is not tied to my weight.

But I get lost navigating the conflicting messages these two polar-opposite sides of me are sending. And for some reason, it’s easier to believe the negative ones: I’m ugly, I’m a fat ass, people are judging me, nobody loves me because I’m fat, etc. But I do feel like the other side of me’s voice is growing louder. It’s not a distant whispering anymore — she’s getting stronger, and I pray that she continues to do so, because I’m weary from fighting this division inside me. I wonder why everything has to be so hard. Isn’t having Major Depressive Disorder, General Anxiety Disorder and Avoidant Personality Disorder enough? Why are there so many things wrong with me? Maybe I don’t need to pull at that thread, but I’d really like not to collect any more diagnoses.

I want to find a balance where I can eat healthy, occasionally indulge and truly appreciate my body. I don’t want to tiptoe around the house anymore, thinking my footsteps are too heavy sounding.

I want normalcy. I don’t mean to complain and whine — I know that I’m the only one in charge of what food goes in my mouth. But it’s still so hard, and not just for me — about 30 million people have an eating disorder in the U.S., according to U.S. News and World Report. That roughly 20 million women and 10 million men. That’s a huge number, and eating disorders, like mental disorders, are often unreported so you can expect those numbers to be a little higher.

A lot of those people also suffer from a mental disorder. The National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders reports that 33 to 50 percent of people with anorexia also have a mood disorder. I don’t have numbers of what percentage of people with Binge Eating Disorder have a mood disorder, but I’m confident I’m not the only one.

Another alarming statistic is that 26 percent of people with an eating disorder attempt suicide. It’s beyond hard to have an eating disorder — you can’t give up food like an alcoholic can give up alcohol (Do not get me wrong. Battling any addiction is very difficult. I do not mean to imply otherwise). You have to fight your brain while learning new methods on how to nourish your body in a healthy way (such as intuitive eating or mindfully eating). It’s hard as hell for me to break old habits when it comes to food, but I know I need to do it if I want to be around for my family and friends later in life. Having an eating disorder is so hard on the body and mind. With everything else I’m battling, my body could use a respite.

I know a lot of us are in the same boat when it comes to weight gain during the pandemic. I don’t have any pointers because I’m still learning, but I do want to say be patient with your body. Give yourself some grace. Try to love the body you’re in, because you’re not getting another one. Weight can come off, and maybe it’s OK if it doesn’t.

You are not your eating disorder.

I hope y’all stay well and in the light.

If you are struggling with an eating disorder, please reach out to your doctor or visit the National Eating Disorders Association website. They also have a crisis text line — just text NEDA to 741741.

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My anxiety worsened after having babies.
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Anxiety and Depression

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

My anxiety worsened after having babies.

I talk a lot about depression, and while that’s important, my anxiety can be just as debilitating, if not more. And if you’re (un)lucky like me, they go hand-in-hand.

When I think back, I can remember having anxiety as young as 12 years old. I can remember having intrusive thoughts about my family dying and I would be obsessively praying they wouldn’t. I also watched The Weather Channel around the clock because I had developed a phobia of storms. I’d watch even if it was good weather. When it would storm, I would get a stomachache and pray over and over.

My anxiety went largely untreated until after I had kids. After my first child, my anxiety manifested itself in weird ways, and if you would’ve asked my then if I had anxiety, I would’ve told you it was just fine. But I wasn’t. When Isla was born I freaked out about the temperature of every room in the house. I had read an article about the “ideal temperature” for babies and couldn’t help but worry about it. I bought little thermometers for each room the baby would be in at any point in the day and adjusted the air/heat accordingly.

I also obsessed over breastfeeding. I kept a detailed log on when I fed Isla and which breast I used and for how long. I kept it for the entire eight months I breastfed. I logged her diapers, too whether it was wet or poopy and how many times throughout the day. I did that for an entire year. That embarrasses me now but anxiety will do what anxiety does — makes you obsessed, worrying about things that aren’t always worth worrying about. But the thing is you can’t stop.

I obsessed over the baby monitor, watching it until I couldn’t stay away any longer. I worried about how loud or quiet the sound machine was and if David and I were too loud downstairs. You’d think as my kids got older I would relax a little but you’d be wrong.

Loud noises would freak me out and it’s still a trigger to this day. I don’t really obsess about those little things anymore but my anxiety is still here and at an all-time high because of the coronavirus. I have panic attacks, some that work me into a complete frenzy. I still feel panic and dread on Sunday nights, like when I was a kid. Sometimes I create problems in my head that aren’t real problems — like someone is mad at me and I worry about thinks I did or said to make them feel that way. My imagination runs away from me and I usually let it.

My anxiety gets really bad around the time of an ECT treatment. It stresses me out to think about going under general anesthesia and I have to talk myself down beforehand. My anxiety hasn’t gotten any better, even after having about 20 treatments.

I take meds for my anxiety and I try to employ coping skills that I’ve picked up in therapy but sometimes it still gets to me. Little things like taking a shower stress me out but I have no idea why. I think that’s what bothers me most — there’s no rhyme or reason to it and it’s hard to control.

A couple of weeks ago I had an anxiety attack at the dentist (which has never happened before). I was supposed to get some fillings replaced but before they could get started I panicked as they put the nitrous gas mask over my nose. It was embarrassing how much I cried but I couldn’t do anything about it.

A lot of people experience anxiety. According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, more than 40 million Americans have an anxiety disorder. There are different types, such as Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder and Phobias. Anxiety disorders are the most common mental illness in the U.S. Half of people with depression are also diagnosed with anxiety.

I’m lucky to have a great therapist and psychiatrist who help me deal but only one-third of those suffering with anxiety are treated. Medication and talk therapy can help manage anxiety. I depend a lot on my medication but they only do so much. I have a list of coping skills I use, read more about that here. It’s also important for me to keep a schedule/routine. Interruptions can be a huge trigger, which is why it’s so hard right now with coronavirus. It’s also crucial that I question my thinking when I get caught in a cycle of negative thinking. I ask myself if my thoughts are true and if I’m being realistic or catastrophizing.

Aside from that my other triggers include interrupted/not enough sleep, socializing, traveling and loud noises. When I’m triggered by these things, an attack can feel like someone sitting on my chest. I sweat, shake and can even work myself up to being hysterical if it’s really bad. At times, I feel like throwing up and that I have a million butterflies in my stomach.

Sometimes anxiety attacks can feel like something else, so here’s a list of symptoms you could possibly experience:

  • a feeling of impending doom
  • a feeling you are in danger
  • dizziness
  • heart palpitations
  • trembling/shaking
  • chest pressure

Anxiety is so difficult to manage. I’ve been dealing with it since I was a kid, so I get that it’s not easy. Nothing is easy when it comes to mental illness. But I think the best thing to do is talk about it. I mean, 40 million Americans have it but it’s not widely understood and doctors don’t always screen for it and some don’t even accurately diagnose it. We need to keep the conversation going until it’s normalized — and that goes for all mental illness.

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One-year Anniversary

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

A year ago this month I went to the Menninger Clinic for inpatient psychiatric care for six long weeks. The months leading up to my trip to Houston weren’t good ones. I was emotional, suicidal and so damn sad. I had been labeled with treatment resistant depression, thus none of my meds were working. I also had tried TMS and ketamine infusion treatments but it didn’t lighten my load at all.

I was scared. Mostly because I feared I wouldn’t be around to watch my kids grow up. My husband, therapist and psychiatrist all agreed Menninger was the next step. After going over my history, meds and different treatments, I was told I was a prime candidate for ECT (electroconvulsive therapy). It took weeks for me to wean off all my meds – an antidepressant, antipsychotic, benzodiazepines, anti seizure meds and Ambien.

While I was weaning off my meds, I underwent psychiatric testing and went to classes about how to deal with mental illness. I also had to go to the classes on addiction because I wasn’t great at taking the prescribed benzodiazepine the way I was supposed to, to put it mildly. When we weren’t taking classes, we were required to do therapy and meet with psychiatrists. The classes – and the teachers – were all very helpful. My diagnoses are Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Dysthymia and Avoidant Personality Disorder.

I became close with a couple of patients who were in the same boat asI was. I still talk to them; sometimes it seems like they’re the only ones who understand what I went through since they were right there with me.

The facility was nice. It should be for how expensive it was, but hey, it did save my life. What stuck with me is that there were not rods to hang your clothes on, no drawers and no shower curtain rod – nothing a patient could try to hang himself from. At night we could shut our doors but the staff did checks every 15 minutes. The whole night. Every door leading outside was locked so patients couldn’t leave. We couldn’t have our phones but they offered cell phones for patients to use. We also had access to computers where all social media sites were blocked. It was a hard adjustment but it kind of made me feel safe, cocooned really. The girls had one wing, boys another and we all shared one common area with couches and a TV. On the weekends, we did movie nights and ordered food from outside the facility. Although it was scary and heart wrenching to be away from my family, I felt supported by the friends I made and never felt alone, despite my depression and anxiety.

When it was time to start ECT I don’t remember being scared, although it sounds scary to me now. I had three treatments a week for three weeks before starting a maintenance phase. At first, I got awful headaches after each treatment but those eventually subsided. By far, the worst side effect of the ECTs is the memory loss. Usually, it only affects patients around the time of treatment, meaning you might forget things that happened the day of treatment. But lucky me, my memory loss goes back years. I’ve forgotten people’s names, and sometimes, entire people. I still can’t remember how I met the majority of my Facebook friends. My short term memory has taken a hit, too. I can’t figure out how and what my brain is actually going to remember.

But as bad as memory loss sucks, the ECTs saved my life. And for that, I’m grateful. I relish in spending time with my kids and watching them grow. David and I enjoy each other more now, too. My mental illness takes a toll on him and I’m very thankful for his patience, love and support.

I won’t lie – there have been dark days in the past year and it hasn’t always been easy. My brain is not reliable and I have to remember during anxiety attacks or depressive episodes that it lies. It tells me I’m not good enough, that I should want to die, that there’s no way out. I ride out the pain best I can and turn to my support system – my doctor, therapist, best friends, parents and then to more ECT treatments. It’s not a perfect system but here I am.

I somehow learned when I was young that having mental illness made you weak, but after my experience I know that’s not true. It couldn’t be further than the truth but the stigma surrounding depression is certainly real. I could have easily overdosed on my meds or died any other way by suicide, but it was strength that saved me and what keeps me going now. I’ve been battling my brain for a long time – decades even – and I know I have more to go but I’m proud of the work I’ve done.

My brain has betrayed me (many times) but my dear, hardworking heart never will. Thank you to all who have supported me.

If you are suffering from depression and need help, the National Alliance on Mental Illness visit www.nami.org

If you are suicidal, please call the Suicide Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.

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Fight Like Hell

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I write a lot about having depression and reaching out to get support but it has come to my attention that when I’m the one struggling I don’t reach out often. Maybe to my mom, husband and best friend but with everyone else I put on a happy face while inside it feels like I’m dying. I think it’s important I talk about the dark while I’m in it.

It started a couple weeks ago. I wasn’t being honest with myself about how things were going. I happen to have a therapy appointment and one with my psychiatrist that week so I let it all hang out. It felt good to come clean and it was decided I would get an ECT treatment ASAP. I scheduled it for next Friday so in the meantime I made an impromptu visit to my parents’ lake house. The kids were dying to get out of the house and I figured it would do me good as well. While the kids had a blast, I didn’t fare as well. I can remember one night eating steak with my parents and I was staring at the bright pink steak knife that cut the steak so well. I wondered how it would feel down my arms. Later, I told my mom to just hide the knives.

I decided to chat on the suicide lifeline messaging system. The lady was asking my history and as I told her that I had major depressive disorder, anxiety, I’ve done ECTs, been to a psychiatric facility, etc. She the said, “Wow, you’re a fighter.” Though I know it’s the truth, it’s not something I’ve heard a lot through my life. I’ve heard I’m lazy, that I’m basically useless, but not a fighter.

But I fight everyday. For my kids, my husband, my family, my amazing friends who support me no matter how depressed I am or how unwashed my hair is. And I know sometimes I’ll fall back on the idea that being mentally ill makes you weak, but I can’t stress enough how that’s total and utter bullshit. And then I’ll remember that I’m a Phoenix rising from the ashes, that I’ll regenerate and will continue to be born again. Because I’m a fighter and I will continue to fight like hell, even though it sucks, even though it’s hard, even though it tires my soul. If anything, I need to show my children that there are many ways to be strong. And that it’s ok if you’re different than others. It’s even ok if you need to go to a mental health hospital. And that self care is a necessity and doesn’t make you selfish. I’ve tried pouring from an empty cup and it got me nowhere (technically it got me to the mental hospital) so even though my journey is a messy one, my kids can still appreciate it one day. I hope.

If you need help, I highly recommend either calling the National Suicide Lifeline or using their chat function. Call them at 1-800-273-8255

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Heather Loeb, Creator of Unruly Neurons

ECT and Me

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I’ve talked a lot recently about my six-week stay at the Menninger Clinic but haven’t really discussed why my stay there was so helpful – doing (electroconvulsive therapy) ECT treatments.

Over the years I was told to try ECT because of my treatment-resistant depression, meaning none of the meds I tried (and I tried a lot) worked well. ECT always scared me and I think it scares a lot of people. I imagine a lot of people associate it as being “shock therapy,” a very primitive form of today’s ECT from the 1900s. But I was doing so poorly by the time I got to Menninger, I prayed that I was a candidate and it worked. Turns out I was and it did.

I did my initial (or index) treatments at Menninger. I did treatments about three times a week until I left the hospital. Each treatment began with memory and cognitive testing. After that came the actual treatment. The nurses would place electrodes on my head, which would provide an electric stimulus to my brain, inducing a seizure. It was then my brain’s job to shut off the seizure, and I was told the shorter the seizure the better. I had monitors for my heart function, blood pressure and pulse, as well.

After everything was in place it was time for the anesthesia. They would administer it, insert a bite guard into my mouth and place an oxygen mask over my face and nose. I’d fall asleep, have the seizure and be awake in about 15-20 minutes.

At first I had awful migraines after the treatments and would have to stay in bed, but now I get a minor headache, some neck pain and fatigue. Not so bad, considering.

As I mentioned earlier, I did my initial treatments at the Menninger Clinic but then switched to a facility in San Antonio, Laurel Ridge Treatment Center after I done at Menninger. Unfortunately, there are no doctors who perform ECT in Corpus Christi, where I live. Both facilities are very good but different. Whereas Menninger might see a handful of patients – if that – a day, Laurel Ridge sees much more and they’re very efficient getting people in and out.

Sometimes I panic before a treatment, although I don’t know why. Nothing scary has ever happened to me but I do get very nervous beforehand. The nurses/doctors can’t give me anything to relax because most meds in that category prolong the seizures. Regardless of my panic, I still get treatments when I’m feeling down.

If you are contemplating ECT, feel free to contact me and I’ll answer any questions. I know it can be scary and intimidating but the treatments are very safe. It has been, by far, the most effective treatment for my treatment-resistant Major Depressive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Avoidant Personality Disorder. I’m happier and have more energy now.

One thing I will mention is memory loss. This is normal and usually occurs around the time of treatment, so you might not remember getting to the hospital or recent conversations. In my case – and this is just me – I have lost memories from years ago and short-term as well. You can read my memory loss blog here.

Having said that, I would still recommend ECT to anyone who is suffering with depression. It really changed my life at a time I wasn’t sure if I’d make it much longer.

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Disorderly Personality

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

In 2019 I entered an inpatient program at the Menninger Clinic in Houston. I was having some issues to say the least, including suicidal ideation, severe depression and I was mis-using some of my medication. I guess the better word would be abusing.

Going into the program I had already been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) and generalized anxiety disorder (GAD). After six weeks of intensive testing, therapy and meetings with doctors, I was able to return home, but I had a new diagnosis to my already growing list – Avoidant Personality Disorder. I had never heard of it and I didn’t know anyone else with a personality disorder so I was feeling like a “legit” crazy person, if there ever was such a thing.

I’d spent years being diagnosed with depression, dysthemia, an anxiety disorder and I was even misdiagnosed as Bipolar II. I knew next to nothing about Avoidant Personality Disorder (AVPD) but I soon learned. It’s a disorder characterized by social discomfort and avoidance of interpersonal contact. According to the Mayo Clinic, someone who has AVPD avoids intimate and social contact with others.

When I read this, I thought, “Wow, this is me.” I think it’s apparent to those who know me well know I’m no extrovert. And while I do have friends, it is rare for me to be around a lot of people and not at all uncommon for me to cancel plans (usually due to anxiety). But as I continued reading, something struck a nerve. My paperwork stated that people with this condition may be extremely shy, fear ridicule and be overly concerned with looking foolish. That they – I – could have an inferiority complex. Yes, I’m sensitive and don’t respond to rejection well but isn’t that everybody?

Apparently not.

As I continued learning, I read that these folks have low self esteem and here’s the kicker – it’s common for people to avoid work, social and school activities for fear of rejection. I was constantly missing school and later work. And it always caused problems.

According to WebMD, a person with Avoidant Personality Disorder may be afraid to speak up for fear of saying the wrong thing, blushing, stammering or otherwise getting embarrassed. That they may also spend a great deal of time anxiously studying those around for signs of approval or rejection.

I know my diagnosis doesn’t define me, so I try not to get upset when I revisit my paperwork. But sometimes I do get upset and that’s ok. Yes, I have “mental problems” but who doesn’t?

But it is important to me not to be “extremely shy” and so scared of rejection. It’s more important to me because my children are watching me, and I would hate for either of them to be painfully shy, to miss out on things only to create a world of isolation and loneliness.

So, I’m (trying) to step up. Kids’ birthday parties? We’re there. Encouraging my children to say hi to others, even adults? Yes. Teaching them to be confident and strong? We’re working on that, too.

No parent wants their children to repeat their mistakes but I hope both my children pick up on some of my attributes that weren’t in my Menninger paperwork – my empathy, resilience, creativity and generosity (that I already see blossoming in my oldest).

Again, my diagnosis does not define me and how I live my life. If anything, it helps me live life more fully and with having more empathy. And that’s ok with me.

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See you later, alligator

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

So, I’m taking off the next 6 to 8 weeks. I talked it over with my therapist and husband and we all decided I needed to be inpatient at a mental health facility this past week and, lucky for me, the clinic had an opening in the program starting this Monday that I wanted to be in and that was the best fit for me. One that focuses on my treatment-resistant Major Depressive Disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, social anxiety and PMDD, and emotional eating. Even substance abuse, because I’ve abused my anxiety medicine in the past.

The clinic is Menningers in Houston, which is well known in the psychiatric arena. I’ve heard such good things about it and I’m hopeful. I should be – the program cost a damn arm and a leg but now’s the time to get better. Nothing else has worked.

The one thing I’m worried about is ECT is not part of my program and I really want to do it. The program leader said I can meet with the doctor to see if I’m a candidate but I don’t know who else would be a better candidate. I’ve tried multiple medications (Prozac, Wellbutrin, Zoloft, Lamictal, Rexulti, Saphris, Doxepin Lexapro, Cymbalta, Abilify – just to name a few), TMS, ketamine infusions and now Spravato. I’ve been depressed (way) over 5 years, so really how can they turn me down? But they could, so good thoughts please. It’s really my one shot. I wont be able to afford a place like this again and I’m not willing to be away from my children for this long again.

That’s the only thing making me nervous. My babies. I know my husband and mother-in-law (and my mom and dad are helping too) can handle everything, I’ll just miss them so much. I’ll miss my son’s birthday and I’ll miss the first day of school. It’s just hard. But when I come out I’ll hopefully be way better and won’t have to miss anything else, because let’s face it, I’m barely living now.

I won’t have access to internet, other than email., so this is so long for the next 6 to 8 weeks. I will miss blogging but I guess I’ll have some stories when I get back.

Stay well, my friends. See you on the other side.

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