Embrace

I thought I would write this post throughout my long weekend in Austin. Today started off bright and early at 4:45 am. As much as I try, I cannot get my makeup and getting ready routine down to less than 30-40 minutes. If you have any helpful tips or tricks, I would LOVE to hear them.

I also woke up to a pounding headache – since I just got my Botox injections on Wednesday and the side effects are usually headaches for a week or so…odd since that is exactly the reason I am getting these injections in the first place (but that is neither here nor there). I said a quick prayer and popped a migraine pill and now I'm happily sitting in Denver waiting for my connecting flight to Austin – headache free but with a wicked craving for some Caribou Coffee…

On the plane now, I just finished watching the documentary Embrace by Taryn Brumfitt – and I am in tears. Not cute little watery eye tear drops, but crocodile tears and an ugly cry face that rivals Kim Kardashian's. The lady next to me on the flight probably thought I was having a breakdown.

If you have never seen this movie and struggle with body image issues, I highly encourage you to watch it. I have come away with two huge revelations. Firstly, I am a hypocrite and secondly, I have such a long journey ahead of me.

I am a hypocrite because while I spout off lines (even in this blog) about loving yourself and in turn loving your body no matter what, I don't. I still skip meals, pinch my extra skin and fat in the mirror and loathe my body. Packing for this trip, I reluctantly packed shorts because I knew it would be insanely hot. Shorts are on my list of things 'I don't wear' and I know that while wearing these shorts, I will avoid sitting down and if I can't, I will refuse to look down at my thighs while doing so. I'll just come out and say it. I hate my legs. I always have.

It started in 3rd grade when a friend of mine grabbed my calf muscle while we were sitting in class and wiggled it. I watched, horrified, as the skin, fat and muscle bounced and jiggled. She said something to the effect of 'mine don't do that!' That was the year I quit ballet and became completely and totally disgusted by my own body. Third grade – probably 9 or 10 years old – and already hating the body God made for me. And now at 33 years old, I finally see how sick and sad this is. It has taken me 23 years to reach this point of being exhausted by my hatred of my own body. I don't want to do it anymore…

•••

I decided to take the weekend to enjoy my time and was so exhausted each night I crashed before adding to this post. I'm back in Denver, waiting for my final flight back to Lincoln.

I had every intention of forcing myself to love my body this weekend after watching the incredible documentary, Embrace, but that didn't happen. I even told my friend, Mona, all about it and how empowering it was when she picked me up from the airport. But after a few hours, I completely and totally reverted back to my default mindset. I refused to wear the shorts I had packed, it was hot, humid and I was taking my vacation seriously and eating whatever I wanted.


As you can see, a lot of my trip revolved around food. VooDoo Doughnut and Culinary Dropout were two of my favorite places we visited and of course while my stomach was enjoying every guilty bite, my mind was tearing myself to pieces. I had a terrible migraine my first night there and every time I vomited, this sick part of me celebrated all the food I was getting out of my body. This fight in my head regarding my body is nonstop.

I posted the main photo of this blog post (me paddle boarding – SUP Austin – with the Austin skyline in the background) with a lot of hesitation. Could you see my cellulite and untoned thighs easily, or was the picture far enough away? I am ashamed to say that even after crying over the documentary on the plane and repeating to myself that the need to love my body and myself is so important, I'm still fighting it. I'm still obsessed over every bump and dimple.

I want to be confident and a role model – a healthy body image advocate, but I loathe what I see in the mirror. I feel like a complete phony and this post is my confessional.

I know my mindset is harmful and unproductive. I know I need to love myself, but the journey to get there is daunting. Loving this body means giving up some sort of control. If you struggle with body image issues, I know you understand.

So here is my plan for the next few days: make healthy food choices, get exercise in, and repeat to myself that I am worthwhile – my body is mine and it's not perfect but that's ok, and that my perception of 'perfect' is skewed and harmful.

It's hard to open up and be vulnerable about my struggles, but without honesty and openness, nothing can ever change. I see a confident me that loves herself and her body far in the distance and I am willing to fight to get there.

This picture with my sweet friend Mona will be a reminder of our amazingly fun weekend, our friendship, and a good reminder of how I need to feel about myself:

Someday I will look in the mirror and be able to say this with all honesty.

I've never been a very patient person. Actually that's a huge understatement – I may very well be the least patient person I know. Waiting – whether it be in a waiting room for a doctors appointment or for something I ordered online to get delivered – is not my forte.

I can't count the number of times I have left a line at a store because I just really can't handle the waiting to check out. It JUST happened last week at the outlet mall while waiting to purchase some gifts at Carter's. I'm also one of THOSE people that just randomly sets down items I decide I don't want in the wrong department of the store….there, I said it. I apologize to any of you that work in retail – I know you hate me now, ha. But it does feel good to get that off my chest!

So…waiting for this move to Pennsylvania, the closing of our current house and the title company to get their act together for the new house is so so difficult. Maybe this is just a life lesson I am supposed to learn and maybe this is something I need to experience in my life, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. In fact, I don't like it – it gives me anxiety and that annoys me.

So, in true Lindsay fashion, I planned a last minute trip to Austin next weekend to see one of my closest friends, Mona. I needed something to look forward to and something to get my mind off of waiting. I haven't seen Mona since my wedding four years ago, so a visit is LONG overdue.

She's one of my closest friends and someone who is constantly there to lend an ear to my craziness. I can't even express how grateful I am to have her in my life. She's the brunette to my blonde.

I lived in Texas for almost a year in 2009. A long story maybe I'll share in the future and another crazy split second decision I made moving from Washington state to Lubbock, Texas but one I don't regret for a second. I made lifelong friends, learned to appreciate good BBQ and had some of the most crazy fun – most of it involving my dear friend, Mona.

This visit will be much different, we are both married now, with kids, and our days of staying out until the bars close is probably long gone – but I cannot wait.

This will also be my first time away from Greyson for more than 24 hours (insert panic attack here just thinking about this!) But, I know I need this trip. As moms, we have a hard time putting ourselves first sometimes. We worry about what will happen while we are gone, if it's selfish to leave for some 'me time' – but guess what, none of that is fair to ourselves. The mom guilt pull is strong, but I'm resisting the urge to fall into the trap. We all need breaks, we all need time to find our pre-mom selves again, even just for a weekend. That doesn't have to mean the crazy nights of our pre-family days, but a new realization that 'mom' and/or 'wife' are not our only defining characteristics.

I can't wait to fill you in on my visit and all of our adventures for the weekend, but until then, I'll do my best to patiently wait for the trip and the big move.

xoxo, Lindsay

Rolling With It

What do you do when everything you know to combat you anxiety doesn’t work??? You ride it out. 

Yup, I said it. You ride it out and you deal. This move has really thrown me for a loop. Our new house  in PA and current house in NE close on the same day – in two different states, we bought a new car which needs to be registered in NE (did I mention that registration costs upwards of $600 EVERY YEAR?! Coming from WA where this is a less than $40 charge I am still completely in shock that it costs this much – what the heck Nebraska?!) but we will only be here for less than a month, all my Botox treatments have to be figured out and a new doctor found…the list goes on and on. When I sit and think rationally (not something I excel at), I know things will be ok and it could be worse! It could be so much worse, but my anxiety likes to chime in and whisper ‘freak out, it’s panic time!’ I hate that little voice. 

I haven’t been able to sit still – I KNOW some of you know that feeling…it drives me crazy. I need to be doing something at all times. While this should be a positive thing motivating me to get some things packed and cleaned – it freezes me up. And quite obviously packing is not something that sounds fun, ha. Soooo to the chagrin of my husband, I usually end up shopping. That seems to be my quick fix band-aid for my anxiety. As ridiculous as that is – and expensive (sorry husband).

I’m slowly beginning to accept that I will most likely live with anxiety forever. There is no quick fix, magic pill, or secret that will fix it. My brain is just wired this way. My goal is to figure out how to ride out these waves. I may very well be the most impatient person I know and this is a struggle for me. I want an answer, a quick fix and some relief…but that isn’t always how life works. 

In the meantime, I’ve been having some major EDM dance parties with Greyson  (he must have been listening to, and enjoying, mommy’s music taste while still in the womb)! I should probably be outside exercising but it is WAY too hot for that right now. So for now, we dance our cares away…

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes! 

Changes happen all the time in life. Daily, weekly, monthly and yearly – they can even change in a matter of hours. I’ve been thinking a lot about change and the way I perceive and react to it. 

I’m a self professed control freak. I need to know the details, the plans and the facts. I’ve been known to completely lose my you-know-what when something changes last minute. Not something I’m proud of, but definitely something I’m trying to work on. Not just for my sake but for my friends and family as well, ha! 

We sold our house yesterday (after less than 12 hours on the market – are you kidding me?!), and have a house in Pennsylvania we are in the process of buying. To say the next few months will be filled with a little change is a gross understatement. My go-to reaction is panic. Anxiety, racing heart, cold sweats – you know the normal and competely healthy response…but I don’t WANT that. I want to face change with an open heart and faith that all will work out as it should. 

When I look back at my life, every major change I fretted about, cried over and threw a fit about became a blessing in my life. Whether I realized it years down the road or right away, it was for the best, but trying to pound that life lesson into my stubborn brain hasn’t happened yet. 

I watch Greyson play every day and see him grow and learn and try new things. It fills my heart so much it feels like it could burst sometimes. Children will definitely give you a lesson in change. Every new thing he learns brings a huge smile to his face. He is inquisitive, curious and always looking for new things to do and try. I want to be like that. I want to have a child’s heart for new and exciting life changes. 


But I know it isn’t that simple. This won’t happen overnight, and will take a lot of mindful and proactive steps to get there. 

So while I sit here now, frozen with anxiety about packing up our home – the house we brought Greyson home to and our very first house we owned together – I’m going to breathe deep and repeat to myself that change is good and change is necessary. 

Wishing you a happy Thursday and wonderful weekend ahead! 

Looking Ahead 

I just wanted to take a moment to thank each and every one of you that read this little blog of mine, every one of you reading means the world to me. It’s not easy sharing personal struggles, but for me, this blog has been so cathartic – a total release of some of the pent up energy and worry that comes along with GAD. I want you guys to see the good and the bad, because that’s how life goes – no one is perfect and our lives ebb and flow with positive and negative. It’s finding the balance and the bliss in that ride that is my foremost goal. We spend our lives comparing and critiquing every else’s ‘perfect’ social media lives. But the majority of people don’t share the ‘real’ just the ‘best of’ highlights. Remember that. 

I’m not a sugar coater and want to be as real and transparent as possible. Awareness and acceptance of anxiety and depression is a cause that I am so passionate about. I know I’m one of millions that suffer, and I hope I can be a small shining light for anyone feeling ashamed or is just not ready to open up. I used to feel completely alone in my anxiety. I didn’t feel like anyone could understand what I was going through and that feeling is so isolating. Since I’ve opened up and shared my struggles, it’s been so freeing. I’m no longer ashamed, and my anxiety doesn’t have the same hold on me as it did before. 

That all being said, I’ve been suffering from some of the worst anxiety I’ve had in a long time. As I mentioned in my last post, we are moving, have a house we are in the process of buying in PA and trying to sell our home here in Lincoln. It’s amazing how much junk one family can acquire in just two years in a tiny house! Part of me wants to just rent a dumpster and throw it all away. Clutter gives me anxiety, packing gives me anxiety and my anxiety is giving me anxiety right now. It’s not fun. But you know what, I know it will subside eventually. I know that the ton of pressure in my chest, and the feeling like I could crawl out of my own skin WILL go away. It may take a few weeks, or a month, but I am confident I will feel better. 

For now, I’m relying on staying busy (not difficult ha!), remembering to breath and keeping in mind that nothing is permanent. I’m giving myself permission to veg on the couch if that’s what I feel like I need. Give yourself grace, forgive yourself for things you can’t control and remember that there are days ahead that don’t involve crazy anxiety. 

I haven’t posted in a while, but things have been a bit hectic in the Hartsburg household. Chris accepted a new position in Erie, Pennsylvania and we will be moving within the next month or so. No pressure there AT ALL. 

Last week was a whirlwind of selling both of our cars to get something bigger (and safer for those nasty Erie winters), traveling to Erie for Chris’s press conference AND to try and find a house in just two days of searching. Yikes. I will admit I did not think things would go very smoothly. 

But guess what…we found the perfect home, our offer was accepted and now we just need to sell our current home in Lincoln. 

I got the flu while we were there and spent a good 24 hours in our hotel room (missing the press conference – sorry Chris) and puking my guts out. Thanks a lot flu shot. Our travel day home yesterday was miserable. Not only did I pack my xanax and zofran in my suitcase (not very helpful for flying when you can’t get to it) but I also spent the entire time trying NOT to use the motion sickness bag…not my finest few days. I can’t even tell you what I ended up wearing on the plane, just that it was black leggings and the most comfy t-shirt I could find in the dark of our hotel room when we got up at 4 am. 

(The view from our hotel room with beautiful Presque Isle in the background!)

Today I’m on the mend but the past two days of vomiting and nausea did not allow me to take my daily anxiety meds…bad timing and cause for the beginning of the dreaded withdrawal symptoms. 

If you’ve never experienced withdrawal from a medication you’ve taken, count yourself lucky. If you’ve never heard of, or experienced, ‘brain zaps’ count yourself EXTRA lucky! One of the drawbacks of being on a daily anxiety med is that you cannot stop cold turkey. However, when you can’t keep anything down, you don’t have much of a choice.

I write this, just so others will know they aren’t alone. Withdrawals aren’t just for drug addicts or alcoholics – they can also happen to normal every-day people like me. Do I like being dependent on a medication that causes this reaction when not taken every single day? No. But the alternative is scary. So today, I’m hydrating, trying not to think about the huge list of things we have to do before we move and kicking myself for letting Greyson have his binkie the whole trip.  

Sometimes you just do what you have to do. I’ll keep everyone updated on our move. We are so very excited to be returning to Erie (we lived there for about 11 months 3 years ago) and can’t wait to get back to the community, team and friends that made it home before. 

So the clouds in this picture are called Mammatus clouds and are apparently seen after a severe storm or tornado has passed. I think they are creepy and just can’t quite appreciate them like the weathermen on the television who call them ‘beautiful’. I keep expecting a tornado to pop out of one of them. And by the way, the cable is now out. Sigh…

We just had a tornado warning (different and more serious than a tornado ‘watch’) here in Lincoln and of course my husband is out of town…queu the anxiety attack that I just now got under control. Nonstop lightning and thunder that sounded like it was right above our house, strong winds, pitch black sky, hail – the works. That’s right, I’m a wuss and I. Hate. Storms. Usually my husband is great about calming me down during these warnings, but tonight I was on my own. 

I tried my mindfulness, I tried my breathing exercises, but this one was a doozy. Chest pain, nausea, the shakes and shortness of breath…lovely. This was a job for Xanax. I needed my head clear should anything progress to the point where we needed to head down to the basement. 

My mama bear instincts kicked in and to be there for my son, I needed to have it together myself. Sometimes I feel guilty about needing Xanax during these times – and I’m working on trying to release that guilt. I need to practice what I preach and let that guilt go. My son slept peacefully through the whole thing and his tranquil little face helped to bring me down a notch or two as well. 

The funny thing is, I grew up in the Pacific Northwest where ‘The Big One’ is something everyone talks about happening. If you aren’t familiar with that terminology, it means a huge earthquake that people believe will level Seattle and possibly other surrounding cities. We also lived near active volcanoes that at some point will probably erupt again. 

Sooooo it’s not like I’m new to the possibility of a natural distaster. But the weird part is that I never worried about those things. They didn’t give me anxiety, I just never thought about them. Out of sight out of mind, right? I mean besides the times  when it’s actually sunny and clear and you can see Mt. Rainier – it’s beautiful and instead of thinking about the looming threat of an eruption, I’m always in awe of the size and beauty of it when the clouds clear and it appears. 

See, tornadoes are not beautiful and the storm that comes along with them aren’t either. Anxiety is like that. A storm in your body and mind, that builds up until the turmoil reaches its pinnacle and things spin out of control. Maybe that’s why they scare me so much, because they remind me of the out of control feelings of a bad anxiety attack. My thoughts just start spiraling and spinning until I just can’t even think straight. 

It amazes me when the physical symptoms begin – how can something in my mind create palpable (and painful) feelings in my body? And every time, I somehow start to panic that those feelings won’t stop, that my world won’t stop spiraling. But just like a tornado or a bad storm, there is always an end to it. The calm after the storm. 

The thing about anxiety is that you never know when or why it is going to strike. I think that’s the part that stresses me out the most. It’s kind of like my migraines, I feel like I am on edge all the time, just waiting. In my mind, I imagine my anxiety looks like a dark shadowy figure that is just waiting to smother me. It is heavy and takes away my breath – like an elephant sitting on my chest. With every increased heart rate, I tense up. Will this be another anxiety ridden day, or was that just a normal thing that hearts do sometimes? 

This week, I have been stressed about taking Greyson to his very first swim lesson. My rational self says, ‘he loves the water, it’s important that he learns to swim, and it will be fun to watch him enjoying the pool.’ My irrational, anxiety says, ‘but you don’t know where to go at the gym to get to the pool, is your two piece bathing suit inappropriate for a kids swim class – but you don’t own a one piece so will you have to buy one just for this 6 week class, where will you change, what if he hates it and cries the whole time, what if you do something wrong?!’ So many what ifs that spiral around in my mind until I am exhausted and on the brink of telling my husband I just can’t do it. 

He reminded me yesterday that this was FOR Greyson. And then, along with the anxiety, comes the mom-guilt. If you are a mother, you know exactly what I am talking about. I then start the negative talk in my mind – why can’t you be a better mother, why are you so selfish and can’t put your son before yourself, why would you skip something that you know he will love and could possibly save his life someday? And the worst – you are just a bad mom. I hate that voice. If I could somehow strangle the life out of it, I would. 

So yesterday, I couldn’t eat breakfast, or even have my morning coffee because it was THE DAY. We were packed and ready to go an hour ahead of time – which, if you know me is a miracle in itself. I’m notoriously late or just barely on time to most things. But guess what, it was easy, it was – dare I say it – fun! Greyson laughed and splashed and his joy made my heart burst. Why had I let myself get so worked up!?

After these experiences I get so down on myself. Why can’t I be ‘normal’ (but is there really such a thing anyways)?! Why can’t I enjoy these life experiences with my child? I don’t want to look back and realize I missed out on so much because of my anxiety. 

Last night and this morning the anxiety still lingers. Last night in bed I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. I felt like my insides were pushing to get outside of my body and I couldn’t lay still – this is what my physical reaction to anxiety is like. It is, like I said above, exhausting. This morning I am still exhausted and still anxious after a poor nights sleep. But there is also a tiny part of myself that is so proud I didn’t chicken out and that I pushed through and took Greyson. 

If you have never experienced anxiety (and just know how jealous I am of you) this all sounds so crazy. I know that. But for those of you that have, especially moms, just know that none of us are perfect. We will all make mistakes as mothers. There is no such thing as a perfect mom. We get up and do our very best every day. Regardless of anxiety, in our kids’ eyes we are the best mommy ever.  

Know that you are enough. Despite your shortcomings, or even when you feel like you are failing, you are enough. This is easy to say, but even harder to believe, but I try to repeat this mantra to myself multiple times a day. And maybe someday it will sink in. 

I pray all the time that I will be the best mother possible for Greyson, and you know what, I truly believe God will help me do that. Because most days I feel anxious, crazy and out of control of my own life, I can’t do it on my own. 

We are all trying to be the best mommies, and you know what – we are. Because we love our children fiercely and unconditionally. And there is nothing like that in the world. 

There’s just something about a long drive through the country that is soothing to my soul. Last week I drove to Seward, NE to meet a teammate from one of the small businesses I am currently ending my time with. June 2nd was actually my last day with this particular business and it was so bittersweet. 

(The main downtown of Seward was adorable, complete with cobblestone streets.)

(I have a slight obsession with spiral staircases too…)

I’ve always had a love for long roads dotted with farms and fields. I grew up in a small town an hour north of Seattle. Lots of dairy farms, logging companies and the most adorable little Main Street.  If any of you remember the horrific mudslide of 2014 in Oso, WA, that was just right outside my small hometown of Arlington. Whenever I come home to visit, I love the drive into town from the freeway. It just makes my heart happy and full. The river, mountains and trees are where I am most at home. 

(Out on one of my favorite drives during my last visit home in March.)
When I was younger I couldn’t wait to get out of that town, but now my soul craves the small town vibe and gorgeous natural scenery. When I was in college and people would ask where I was from I would get one of three responses: ‘You mean Arlington, Virginia?’, ‘Oh Arlington, Texas?’ and my favorite…’That hick town?!’ And these responses were coming from actual Washingtonians. I guess I can’t blame them, during our many moves for my husband’s job, I’ve found most people outside of Washington can only name one city: Seattle. 

My other love for the country comes from the childhood visits we would take with my mom to visit family in Miami, TX. This is a small town in the Panhandle of Texas that was around the size of about 650 people when we were visiting 30-some years ago and where my grandma was born and grew up. We would go every two years, and I am sure this is where my love of horses and horseback riding developed.


(This is me in 8th grade, seems like so long ago!) 

 My grandma’s family has a large ranch there and I was enamored with the barns, cattle guards and actual cowboys we would see. I loved the long dirt roads, the tiny cafe in town and getting to check out the by then abandoned building that my great grandparents had run their butcher shop in. 

(My great aunt out driving at the Ranch.)

There was just a special connection to the people and the land. Some day I will inherit a portion of acreage on that ranch and my heart knows it is something that will stay in our family forever, passed down from generation to generation. 


(Cousins – photos probably taken about 20 years apart. The three girls in the car are the three blondes in the bottom picture!)

So this drive to Seward rekindled my love of the country. I drove leisurely, stopping to take photos (I didn’t have my camera just my iPhone, but I couldn’t resist) and to soak it all in. I noticed a content feeling in my chest and the absence of my usually always present anxiety – a VERY rare way of feeling for me.  You know that quote ‘Do what makes your soul happy’? I used to think that pertained to only jobs, and I was very narrow-minded in my understanding of it. You should do even the smallest things that make your soul happy! Take a drive, roll your windows down, sing your heart out, take photos if you love that! It was such a simple way to feel good and overcome my nagging anxiety for that short time. What small things make YOUR soul happy? 

Take a drive and explore places close to where you live, you might be pleasantly surprised by what you find! 

Last night we went out to dinner for my husband’s birthday. It’s not his actual birthday yet, but when you have no family nearby and rely solely on sitters, you go when they are available! So that happened to be last night. 

I’m only 5’1″ so I usually wear heels or wedges when we go out because everyone else is always towering over me. When I was little I was afraid of some pretty odd things, one being tall people so I think I was doomed to be short from the start. I was also terrified of clowns and the drain in the bathtub sucking me into it – but those are pretty self-explanatory right?  

The length from our front door to the car can’t be more than 15 feet and I managed to bite it for the first time of the night in that short distance. I had on a cute pair of wedges and must have stepped on a branch and lost my balance, I righted myself and immediately proceeded to fall completely over onto the ground. Right in front of the busy street we live on and most likely right in front of the babysitter too. My husband laughed, and then asked if I was ok. 

We met up with some friends for dinner and then ended the evening at their place for a glass of wine AND I learned a new trick of putting your phone in a glass to amplify the sound when playing music…I’m probably the last person on earth to learn this trick, but that’s ok. I’m easily entertained. 

When we walked out to our car this time, I tripped over the curb and fell almost completely on my face – and this one hurt. I think I was too embarrassed to immediately recognize the pain in my knee and foot but last night when we finally got home, I could barely put any weight on it. I barely slept and went to the walk in for X-rays this morning where I had to explain how I had injured my foot and why I was walking like Quasimodo. Luckily, there was no fracture, just a bad sprain. 

The funny thing is that I fall ALL. THE. TIME. I don’t know what it is but I am a complete walking disaster. I’ve fallen in the middle of a bank with the teller not being able to finish my transaction because he was laughing so hard. At me, not with me I might add. Sheesh. One Easter I was heading back to my apartment in Seattle after spending the holiday with my family and fell in the middle of our street just saying goodbye to my sister – I wasn’t even moving, just standing there. She laughed, got in her car and continued laughing for probably a good five minutes. 

I really can’t recount every embarrassing place I’ve fallen – there’s just too many. I even slipped on a flower petal walking down the aisle at my own wedding. Luckily my step dad is a pretty sturdy guy, so I didn’t actually fall down – nevertheless I was still mortified. 

At least it makes for some good stories and laughs, after the fact for me anyways. I hope you all had a way better Memorial Day weekend than the last half of mine.