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Mental Health

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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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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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The Happiest Place on Earth

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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I’m Happy, Y’all

by Heather Loeb

If you happened to read my blog last night, you learned that I was feeling sad. Well, when I awoke this morning, I was feeing pretty good. That’s the thing about negative emotions (at least in my case) — they’re fleeting. My baseline, ever since leaving the psychiatric hospital, is good. Then pretty good, great, happy then amazing. But I don’t stay sad for long, and if I do, that means there’s something wrong, i.e. I need an extra therapy appointment, medicine change, Ketamine treatment, ECT, etc. It’s a simple barometer for me.

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But you know what?? It’s ok to be sad. You can sit with your feelings and explore them. Just don’t move in with them. Sit with them, then let them go. Meditation helps. Don’t feel bad when you you feel a negative emotion. You’re feeling them for a reason, and ignoring them is not the way to go, trust me. Although this is my process, and if you have a better one, I honor and respect that.

My favorite part of yesterday’s blog was the positivity at the end. It was faint, but it was there.

 

Right now I countdown the hours until I can take a nap or go to bed. I do my best during the hours I’m awake, but tears crowd my eyes knowing I might wake up tomorrow feeling the same way, even though I pray so hard it doesn’t, and I envision a happy day.

But you know, even on a sad day like today, it’s still a million times better than when I was in my worst depressive episode. That’s what I need to remember.

And all of a sudden, things are lookin better. And they look like they’re coming up Heather Loeb.

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That makes me smile, something I’ve done all day.

Eventually, it all comes up Heather Ann Loeb. It’s good to be me.

 

 

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I’m Sad, Y’all

by Heather Loeb

I don’t know why. My doctor did figure out that I had a big B12 deficiency and told me it would take a while to get back to normal, and that could affect my mental health. So I guess that’s why, but being sad sucks. And it’s scary if you’re prone to depressive episodes that can make you suicidal. I don’t want to go down that road. Who does?

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It makes me extra sad because I’ve been so happy previously this year. Knowing how happy and productive I can be makes me even sadder. And more sensitive. I actually got upset earlier this week because my NAMI team didn’t nominate me for an award. 1. I have enough awards. 2. That’s not what I do any of this for 3. I swear just one week ago I was featured in a magazine article, what more could I want?

But my intrusive thoughts — thoughts that I am not in control of — told me I was useless and that nobody valued me. And I let myself believe it because that’s one of my innermost fears. I’ve been an advocate for mental health since 2018, never expecting anything. Never believing that anything would come from it, so it’s unbelievable that something has, and I’ve grateful for all of it. I swear. It’s just this funk that I’m in.

Next week we’re supposed to go to Disney World. I’ll slip on my Minnie ears and don my Disney shirt that matches my daughter’s. I’m sure I’ll have fun, even.

Right now I countdown the hours until I can take a nap or go to bed. I do my best during the hours I’m awake, but tears crowd my eyes knowing I might wake up tomorrow feeling the same way, even though I pray so hard it doesn’t, and I envision a happy day.

But you know, even on a sad day like today, it’s still a million times better than when I was in my worst depressive episode. That’s what I need to remember. And all of a sudden, things are lookin better.

As always, it’s coming up Heather Loeb.

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Pump My Brakes

by Heather Loeb

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

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

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

I loved that.

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

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

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

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Recently I posted on Facebook about this, but I think it merits a blog. I came across some papers from the Menninger Clinic as I was cleaning my sunroom the other day, and they threw me for a loop. The papers were test results I had taken shortly after I arrived at the hospital. We had to take a lot of tests. They tested my quality of life, which was at 25 percent, physical disability caused by my depression/anxiety at 48 percent and cognitive function at 33 percent. My memory was at 3 percent, which was the most shocking. I guess being on all that medication and abusing my anxiety meds really screwed me up. My memory just got worse after the ECTs if you can believe it.

I felt so many emotions as I cradled these papers. I was heartbroken that I let myself get that bad but elated that I’ve come so far. I’m certain my quality of life has improved, somewhere in the 90s, I’d say and my disability is near non-existent. I still get migraines and sometimes I have bad days, but overall I get out of bed every morning and get on that grind. It’s amazing what I can do now.

  • Run my Unruly Neurons blog
  • Write a column for the Caller-Times
  • Make #MentalHealthMonday videos for State Rep. Todd Hunter
  • Work as the Communications Manager at NAMI Greater Corpus Christi
  • Sit on the board at JCC
  • Be a member of State Rep. Todd Hunter’s Suicide Prevention Task Force
  • Join NAMI Texas’ State Advocacy Networking Team
  • Regular contributor to the national NAMI blog
  • Do public speaking

Plus, I have two kids, lol. That takes up quite a bit of my time. And my husband.

It may seem like I’m bragging, but I’m just amazed. I look at this list and know that I couldn’t do that four years ago. But I’m doing it now, and I’m so proud of myself. Yes, that’s it. I’m just so proud of myself. I’ve done it — I’m in recovery. I’ve made it to the other side, with help from my support system, of course.

All these good things keep happening to me, and it’s unbelievable to me sometimes. I can’t help but think when is the other shoe going to drop. And maybe it won’t. Maybe I deserve these good things. That’s hard to admit. All I know is that I’m grateful, so grateful.

I get to do what I love and love what I do — help others. I didn’t have a lot of help when I was first diagnosed, and I don’t want anyone to feel alone on their mental health journey.

I’m always here. And I mean that.

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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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