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major depressive disorder

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Mad and Sad

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

Today was my first day back after my two-week long vacation. I thought I would be excited to get into the swing of things, but as I’m sitting here at the end of the day, I’m spent. I’m mad, and I’m sad. At what, I don’t really know.

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Maybe it’s because I didn’t get the alone time I wanted and so badly craved during my vacation. Eli stayed home from camp was in a terrible mood. There was a lot of yelling and crying on his end in my direction, which stressed me out. But it seems bigger than that. I just don’t want to do anything, even though I have tons to do. I’d say I don’t care, but that’s not the case. I do, just not at this second.

I think I’m mad because I’m losing my hair and gaining weight. I’m mad because I hurt my back jump roping! I’m mad because I haven’t had any alone time. I’m mad because my best friend ghosted me (even though it has been almost nine months). And I’m just so sad that things aren’t going my way. I know, that sounds pathetic. I’m used to everything coming up Heather Loeb.

I just want to crawl into a hole and sleep for weeks. This is starting to sound like the beginnings of a depressive episode the more I type. Ugh, that makes me feel even worse.

I don’t mean to throw myself a pity party, but at the same time, it’s okay that I sit with these feelings and explore them. I guess that’s what I’ll do — turn to self-care and sit with my feelings. I know it’ll pass; it always does.

But until then I can continue to say expletives in my head, have a scowl on my face and eat junk food to make myself feel better. I just gotta make sure I don’t take up permanent residence here, because where I (usually) live is rainbows, kittens, llamas, love, fuzzy socks, Diet Coke and binge watching Suits like it’s the first time. A happy place.

Just thinking about it makes me feel lighter. Maybe I won’t be here long at all.

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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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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
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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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The Happiest Place on Earth

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

My family and I took a trip to Disney World last week. It was our first time, except my husband. He had been a couple times as a kid. I did what I always do before a trip: prep, prep, prep. Then get anxious that I’ll hate it because the kids will make me miserable. There was only a little bit of that though. But let me start at the beginning.

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The day we got there, we dropped our bags off and got on a bus to Magic Kingdom. It was still early, so we had plenty of time to explore. As soon as we entered the park, I had chills. There were bubbles everywhere (because all the kids have bubble makers, lol). And there seemed to be a pink sheen everywhere. We turned a corner and there was the castle. Cinderella’s Castle, I would learn later. It was so beautiful and tears crowded my eyes. I shrieked at the kids to make sure they were seeing it, and they were excited too. A photographer asked if he could take our picture. I felt so happy.

We went to some rides: teacups, Dumbo and Pirates of the Caribbean and had to wait a bit but we hadn’t figured out the Lightning Lanes yet.

Long story short, I loved it. I liked Magic Kingdom and Hollywood Studios best. Oh, and Disney Springs. Gotta love shopping.

One thing I did realize is that I wasn’t that stressed. The kids did stress me out, but I didn’t have to take any anxiety meds. I chalk that up to walking so much. We did at least 10k steps every day, and I enjoyed that a lot. I was exhausted each night and didn’t have any problems sleeping. So I’m going to incorporate more walking into my daily routine. Granted I won’t be in the happiest place on earth, but can’t I make my own home the happiest place on earth? I don’t know why not.

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I may not wear mouse ears every day, but I can still have a good time. I love frivolity in everyday life, like fun socks, jewelry, clothes, shoes, etc. Life can get so boring and depressing without fun details and items surrounding you. I mean, I did just order a 47-inch llama, because why not?? I was depressed for years and saw only black and white. Oh, how much joy that stole from me.

My point is that anywhere you are can be the “happiest place on Earth.” We don’t need Mickey and Minnie. Be your own cartoon or princess!

Live in a colorful world with bubbles and sing like your children aren’t complaining (why do mine do that??) !

And if you can’t do that now, please know that’s okay. One day you will be able to. Until then, do what you can, hour by hour, minute by minute. I’ll still be here.

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Confession: I’m a huge slob

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I’m a slob. A big one. I try to fight it, I really do, but I always slip back into my slovenly ways. I don’t want to be a slob; it actually stresses me out to have a messy house and clutter everywhere, but I just can’t muster the strength to do better. And I’m not even in a full-blown depressive episode.

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It’s not that I’m lazy — there’s a little of that, too — it’s that I only have so much energy, and I’d rather not allot that energy to cleaning my home (at this time). Maybe soon I’ll have enough time and energy to clean. It’s what I talked about when I blogged about the Spoon Theory. I have only so many spoons each day, and I have to save them to function. For the most part I save them for getting up in the morning, taking care of the kids, hygiene, making/cooking meals for the kids, my mental health advocacy and relationship with my husband, family and friends. That takes up a lot, even if it doesn’t seem like it. Everything takes a lot when you have depression. And anxiety. And a personality disorder. And, hell, an eating disorder.

It’s a full-time job being mentally ill.

But the thing is…I can’t stand it when the house is messy, which is 99% of the time. I even have a housekeeper who comes four days a week, but as soon as she leaves, my family *exists* and clutter starts forming in every corner. My housekeeper can only do so much. As it is now, she can only tidy up the clutter on the countertops and work around it. Don’t get me wrong — she still cleans the house, but she can’t fix the mess we’ve accumulated. That’s our job, and we suck at it super bad. It makes me anxious and stressed.

And guilty. Even my car is cluttered. If you open the doors, sometimes trash or random items fly out. So embarrassing.

As it turns out, it’s not unusual for people with depression to be messy. An article in PsychCentral.com says when you’re depressed, it’s hard to take care of yourself and get things done. I totally agree, but here’s the thing: I’m not experiencing a depressive episode right now. Or maybe I am. A small one. I’m still capable of a lot and have some energy. But some things are hard. I guess I am experiencing some hallmarks of depression:

  • decreased energy
  • fatigue
  • lack of interest
  • feeling overwhelmed

BUT before I finished this blog, I totally cleaned out my closet and arranged my clothes by type and color coded everything according to the rainbow. It took a long time and a lot of effort. It made me feel better and want to work on other rooms in the house, but it’s so daunting.

Even though it can be stressful to have clutter everywhere, Verywellmind.com says this: “…There is research that supports the idea that messiness also has an upside. Kathleen Vohs, Ph.D., and her fellow researchers did a series of experiments on the psychology of messiness. They found that while working in an orderly room encouraged behaviors such as generosity and healthy eating, working in a messy environment actually led to greater creativity.” And that Albert Einstein was known for a messy desk.

Maybe I’m a creative genius. There are times when the mess doesn’t bug me. I just can’t figure out which part of me doesn’t mind the mess or hates it.

The Verywellmind.com article ended with this, “If you function fine in a messy room, then don’t let trends pressure you into pursuing a more organized or minimalistic lifestyle. However, if the messiness is something that causes you stress or if you suspect it might be a symptom of an underlying psychological problem, consider steps you can take to address the issue.”

Maybe I have a depressed personality and a non-depressed personality. I guess I need to find a way to merge the two.

Although if I were less messy, my father would complain a lot less, lol.

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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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The Sun on My Face Beats the Sadness in My Heart

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb

I was curled up on my hot pink couch under a weighted blanket. I needed the extra weight; it felt like my insides were trying to get on the outside. It isn’t a pleasant feeling. It only happens when I’m very anxious. I had just burst into tears on a Zoom call with my NAMI cohorts, and I just wanted to feel safe. I had determined that I needed to take a break from karate, which I felt guilty about. By the way I’ve been feeling these past few weeks (depressed and anxious), it’s clear that I need to go into Low Battery Mode and conserve what energy I have and save it for getting in a better place. My NAMI pals made me feel better and told me I had their support, but I still went to the couch for comfort.

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I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, and that heavy weight on my chest and in my belly weren’t going away. I tossed the weighted blanket off me and looked up.

My gaze stopped at a print on my wall of a woman with her head back and arms up by her sides. You can’t look at it without feeling the happiness and fulfillment she’s obviously experiencing.

That picture is what recovery means to me. That’s how I aspire to feel all the time, and most of the time, it’s how I truly feel — blissful, lucky and grateful.

So then it hit me. Sure, I’m going through a hard time. But my god, I’ve gone through way, way, way darker times than this. I’ve crawled back from the darkest depths of hell, and I’ve far from that place now.

If I could do it then, with so much baggage, self-loathing, negative thinking and hate, I can do it now with love and the support of my family and friends (and even strangers). People are praying for me, rooting for me and sending me good vibes. I’m smarter now, I know better so I can do better. Part of recovery means preparing for relapse, and I’m so prepared.

I know I’ve discussed Low Battery Mode before, but this is what I’m focusing on now:

  • Stick to a consistent sleep schedule and attempt to get the kids out of my bed
  • Drink lots of water and lay off the Diet Cokes
  • Avoid junk food and eat healthier
  • Take lots of breaks whenever I need them
  • Ask for help when I’m feeling overwhelmed
  • Give myself some grace when I slip up
  • Go to my support system whenever I need to
  • Cut back on activities that aren’t a “priority”
  • Read and write
  • Be consistent in self-care routines
  • Go to therapy consistently

I’m sure there’s more that I’m missing right now, but this is a good start. This is what I need to do to take care of me and subsequently, my family. I know it’s hard right now, but I’ll be back to that woman with the sunshine in her face in no time.

I’ve got this. And if I don’t, I know y’all will be there to help me.

Thanks for listening.

If you have any ideas or suggestions on how to avoid relapse, I’d love to hear them. Drop them in the comments.

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In a Nutshell: My Week in Review

by Heather Loeb
written by Heather Loeb
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Happy Sunday, everyone. I’m trying to have a good day, but man, this is been a hard week. I’ve been feeling depressed, sad and fatigued. I was going to scheduled some ketamine treatments, but I started feeling better Thursday and Friday. Then we had to put down my favorite cat, Possum, because she was having severe kidney and liver problems. We’ve had her for 10+ years, and it was very hard to say goodbye, but I’m glad she’s no longer hurting. The kids are okay. Isla went with us to say goodbye; Eli declined, saying it was too hard, which I totally understand. He’s already asked for a new cat. Sigh.

I think I will call Monday to set up some ketamine treatments, I don’t want this crappy mood to continue and get out of hand. This coming week is going to be a busy one — my husband has a fundraiser (he’s running for a board position for the community college here) and NAMI GCC is holding a panel discussion for Minority Mental Health Awareness month. I’m pretty excited about that. I think it’s going to be very eye opening. What I’ve learned from doing research on it for my column and our event has shocked me — read my column here. I’m always thinking about my mental health and problems; I didn’t even think about the hurdles that others have to go through to get just a quarter of the quality care I get. It needs to change, for sure.

Oh, I almost forgot! I made it through the first round of voting for the Caller-Times’ Best of the Best. I’m up for Best Columnist. Please vote for me daily. You can vote here.

That’s it for me. I hope you guys are well. As always, stay in the light.

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