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Mental Health

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The Power of No

by Heather Loeb

I have had a difficult time with my binge eating disorder lately — since October I’ve gained 10 pounds. It’s not just about the weight gain, it’s the way I feel: so sluggish, uncomfortably full, and I’m getting more stomach pain (I’ve had the sleeve surgery so eating too much causes a lot of pain) and acid reflux.

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Normally I don’t each much because of the sleeve, plus my migraine prevention medication is an appetite suppressant. But I just can’t seem to stop eating. It doesn’t matter what it is — candy, Girl Scout cookies (which I don’t even like much) bread, chips, hell, even raisins. Whatever it is, I overindulge.

I’ve talked to my therapist about it many times. Of course I’m seeking comfort. This is my pattern. If I’m not compulsively shopping, I’m taking too many anxiety pills. If I’m not doing that, I’ve overeating. And this by far is the worst, in my opinion. I have so many body issues, and even though I’ve tried to battle them all my life, somewhere along the line I’ve learned the worst thing you can be in this world is fat (even I don’t think that way about my loved ones). LogicalIy I know better. But I just can’t go down that path anymore.

I don’t feel depressed at all, and my anxiety has been stable.

My therapist says I need to be mindful when I feel like eating. I agree. She says I’ll figure out what’s bothering me if I sit with my feelings and do some introspection. I know she’s right, but the urge to eat is too powerful. My need for comfort is too strong. She says I need to tell myself no.

But I never do. Well, rarely.

My loved ones rarely tell my no, except David — he’s definitely the best at it, and I love him for that. I need to hear no, not just from my friends and family. I NEED TO HEAR IT FROM ME. But it’s like I feel like I need a treat all the time, whether it’s food or something I want to buy. Nobody needs that many treats. I realize I deserve nice things, but that’s different. There are healthy ways to treat myself, like doing self-care. Logically I know that.

So my question to myself is not what am I eating, it’s what’s eating me?

I do have a lot going on right now at home, and of course, NAMI GCC is keeping me busy. I don’t feel too overwhelmed. I like to keep busy; I like to be challenged, and I definitely am being challenged. Maybe it’s too much and I don’t recognize that? I don’t know, I think I would feel it in my body if it were too much.

Good things are coming up. I’m getting a new car, NAMI is getting a new, bigger office and we’re preparing for Celebrity Jeopardy on April 27. NAMI is also offering new classes, and I feel that bigger things are ahead for NAMI. My therapist (who I’ve seen for 9 years) is retiring, but we’ve been preparing for that, and I have already selected a new one, and we have a transition plan. I feel good about it.

SO WHAT IS IT?????

Why am I shoving food down my throat?

What am I punishing myself for?

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As you may know, I don’t believe in making New Year’s Resolutions for myself (but if you do, that’s amazing!). I like to work on myself 24/7 and make small goals every month. Sometimes every day if needed, lol. For me, the New Year, New Me idea was too much pressure and something I could easily give up on, so now I take baby steps and work on myself non-stop. Or I at least try.

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2024 Goal, Plan, Action checklist text on note pad with laptop, glasses and pen.

Since 2019, when I went to a psychiatric hospital and started my recovery, every year has been better than the previous one. Yet when each year rolls around it’s hard for me to think it could get much better. It does, but still I fret. I guess when you’ve been living with a list of mental health conditions, you still live in fear of the other shoe dropping.

But if these past few years have taught me anything, it’s that if I work hard on my recovery and rely on my support network, everything will be fine. More than fine.

I also came up with a checklist on how I’m going to take care of myself in 2024:

  1. Make self-care a priority. When I get stressed and busy, this is usually the first to go, which is silly. This should be a top priority, especially when times get tough.
    • I’m going to get massages, facials and my nails done more
    • I’m going to read more. Just the other day my son asked me why I didn’t read anymore, and it kind of broke my heart. I love to read, and I’m also setting a bad example by not doing it anymore
    • I’m also going to write more
    • I’ll really try to unplug from electronics
  2. Reach out to friends. It’s hard to ask for help, but one thing I noticed this year is that when I did reach out and told my friends what was going on, they checked on me constantly and helped me stay on track with my self-care plan and reminded me to take it easy on myself. Always ask for help, especially if you’re having dark/intrusive thoughts or suicidal thoughts. Call 988 or 911 if you need immediate assistance or are in danger of self-harming or killing yourself.
  3. In December I talked about getting on the treadmill for endorphins, serotonin and dopamine. I’d like to continue that – not to lose weight but to feel better and healthier. Right now I’m just doing 20 minutes a day, and that’s totally manageable
  4. I’m going to try to complain less. I like to keep my mind positive, but I do notice I complain a lot, so I’ll focus on my positive affirmations and get rid of the complaints much like I do intrusive thoughts.
    • Note: When I have an intrusive thought, I say to myself, “pull back.” I imagine pulling on the reigns of my very beautiful unicorn who has rainbow-colored hair in braids and a sparkly horn. As I pull back, we go in a different direction, toward better thoughts. You’re welcome, lol. It works.
  5. I’m going to practice better sleep hygiene
  6. I’d like to do some therapy work on my eating disorder

Of course, I’ll continue to compliant with my medications, therapy, etc.

What about you guys? Do you have any resolutions or goals you want to share? And how you’re going to get there? Leave it in the comments!

And Happy New Year!

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Judge Not, Recovery is Hard

by Heather Loeb

I was talking to a friend recently and we were talking about Thanksgiving and if we would see our families. She was in the mental health field and had an uncle who was mentally ill. My friend vented because that family member never seemed to take his pills or go to therapy. 

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“You take your pills and go to therapy. You’re in recovery,” she said . “How hard could it be?” 

I let my friend vent then reminded her that it wasn’t easy for me. I detailed my struggles before I went to a psych hospital, then after: the ECT treatments, the medication changes, the therapy, road to recovery. Plus, her uncle and I have two different diagnoses. 

She blinked tears away and said you’re right, which doesn’t happen often. 

“I forgot,” she said. “I’m used to the you in recovery. and it seems easy now. I know better.”

She continued on about how her uncle hasn’t really come to terms with his mental illness and that he comes from a different generation where talking or having mental illness was taboo. 

That makes sense. Therapy probably scares him to death. And he probably doesn’t grasp the concept of recovery in terms of mental illness, I didn’t at first. 

It’s easy to get frustrated at someone with a mental illness, but you have to remember: they have a mental illness, and everyone’s different. They might not have the ability or capacity to understand their illness or recovery. You should never compare them to someone else, especially to someone who doesn’t have an illness. 

Also, the holidays can stress everyone out. It also can trigger those with a mental health condition so please be patient and know that it can be triggering and bring out certain symptoms. 

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Hair on My Head, Part II

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

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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What a Pain in My…Back

by Heather Loeb

So, about a month ago I was jump roping with my daughter. I bought the jump ropes to encourage us to have fun exercising. I talked about this previously, but bear with me. On the second day we were jumping, I was about 10 jumps in when I felt a sharp pain in my back. My daughter quickly went to get an ice pack, and I was horizontal for the rest of the day. Fast forwards a few weeks and an MRI, and it turns out I tore a disk in between my L4 and L5. My doctor gave me pain pills, which are long gone by now, and I started physical therapy last week, but I haven’t gotten any relief. None.

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Actually, after Monday’s PT session, my back hurt worse than it ever has with this injury. It’s hurting right now as I type this in the carpool lane waiting for my children.

I’m used to pain. Mental anguish and pain from migraines. I’m definitely no stranger, but this is a different pain. It doesn’t always go away, and I fear that I will have back problems for the rest of my life. But maybe if I stick to the PT, I’ll get better. It’s only been a few sessions.

The chronic pain has altered my mental state. I get depressed and angry more easily. It really pisses me off when I’m limited to an activity because of my back. Then comes the overwhelming sadness. I tell myself that it just takes time to heal, but it’s so hard to remember when there’s searing pain in multiple places in my back. I totally get why so many people with chronic illness have depression and vice versa.

Lately the only relief I get is lying down on my right side. I even had to switch places in the bed with my husband to ensure I stay on that side (mainly because my son prevents me from lying like that on the other side). But I can’t just lie down all day.

I probably sound like a spoiled brat, but my pain is real and constant and cumbersome. I just hope it doesn’t throw me into a true depressive episode. And I pray that I find more relief. I guess there’s always injections, but I wanted to avoid that as much as possible. Really, I need to strengthen my core…well, strengthen everything….to feel better, and that will take time.

I’ll pray for patience because right now I just ain’t got it.

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Mad and Sad

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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I’ve been losing a lot of hair recently, and while I don’t know exactly what is causing the loss, I have a guess — a medication I take for migraine prevention. It’s a rare side effect, but I’m in a support group for those taking said medication, and there are a lot of women who have lost hair. But apparently it’s reversible once you’re off the pill.

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My beautiful curly hair

I first noticed it when I put my hair up in a ponytail. There was hardly any hair to put up; it was so much thinner than my usual thick curls, and I started to panic. For a while, I had been complaining to my best friend that my hair hadn’t been curling like it used to, but I blamed that on one of my conditions being discontinued. I thought I just needed to find something comparable, and it was just taking a while.

At night I would scroll through pictures where my hair was voluminous and curly, just months ago. The medication was the only change, and the problem with stopping the medication was not only would I see an increase in migraines but also not be protected by another side effect — appetite suppression and weight loss. I have a terrible eating disorder, and while the pill doesn’t always stand up to that, it helps greatly, and I feel like I need to be on it.

I feel so stupid and vain. Sometimes I say it’s just hair, right? But it’s not. I’ve always felt like my hair is a big part of me, a big curly, beautiful mess. But I’ve also worked hard to get to a weight I’m comfortable with, one where I’m not constantly calling myself fat.

And I just don’t want to go there again. I’ve always been so miserable at higher weights, and I know that’s the opposite of what I preach on my blog and in my columns (body positivity, etc.). I always see the beauty in others but never myself.

Honestly, I think it would be better if I just stayed on my migraine medication because if I start gaining weight that could trigger my eating disorder and a depressive episode and I’m not willing to go through that right now. It might seem like I’m being dramatic, but the last time I went through a bad depressive episode, I was constantly suicidal and ended up in two hospitals, away from my family. My kids were young then; they’re not now. The stakes are higher, and I have more responsibility. I’m not ready to fight my brain again, which told me repeatedly to kill myself.

I feel much less confident about my thinning hair, but I suppose I can learn to deal with that. It’s not the same as going through a depressive episode. I just hate that those are my choices. And maybe they’re not. I see my PCP on Tuesday, and I’ll bring all of this up. Maybe there are more options that I’m not seeing or know about.

But I’m seeing now it’s more than the hair on my head or the weight on the scale.

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The Fundraiser

by Heather Loeb

Last weekend was the NAMI Celebrity Jeopardy Fundraiser that we had been working on for about six months. I spent countless hours at night, on the weekend and of course during the day trying to ensure its success. Not just me, there were four of us working tirelessly on this thing — it was the organization’s first-ever fundraiser. And you know what? It was successful! There were a few hiccups, but for the most part, it was amazing. The Jeopardy game went so well, even with a slight delay with the microphones. Everyone was laughing so hard; my whole face hurt from cracking up.

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It was fun. I’m ready to do it again. I actually miss not working on it, which is strange because I vented and complained to my husband (and therapist) a lot, but now it seems like there’s a gap in my life. Weird, right? It just took up so much of my time, and we got to do so many fun things. I love to be creative.

I guess a need a new project to distract me until it’s time to start planning for the next fundraiser again, which by the way, will be on April 27, 2024, lol. That’s the most planning we’ve done so far.

One of my favorite parts of the fundraiser was hearing the speakers. I loved listening to J.D. and Marty talk about how NAMI enhanced their life, like it has mine. When it was my turn to speak, I became very nervous, so much so that I left entire lines out of my speech even though it was on paper right in front of me. I talked about how when I left the psychiatric hospital, my family and friends were a great support system but that none of them had a mental health condition so I still felt a little alone. Enter NAMI, where each of the leadership team either has a mental illness or a family member does.

“They have aided in my recovery in ways I didn’t think possible, allowing me to be myself but encouraging me to accept change and growth. I thought I was a new person when I left the psychiatric hospital and l was! I’m a new person now and there have been a dozen different versions of me in between. I’m so happy now it almost feels unfair. Almost.

But it’s not just me. It’s awesome to see our team help others, whether it be through our support groups, programs, classes or just showing up.   

The coolest thing to me is that we do it all for free. We’re fueled by passion and heart. You can’t find that just anywhere. Helping others is all I ever wanted to do when I started my blog so others wouldn’t feel alone, and nobody is ever alone when NAMI GCC is involved.”

Sure, I had fun planning the event, but it was also important for me to share how I felt about this amazing organization. For me to give back to my beloved NAM Fam.

And give back to others.

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Valentine’s Day 2023

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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