My Name is Lindsay and I am a Blogger

I have fought, denied, and tried to hide but the blaring truth remains...

Hi. My name is Lindsay and I am a blogger.

I didn't want to accept it.  I didn't want to admit that I find strength in telling the world my innermost thoughts and feelings.  It's embarrassing!! However, despite my misgivings, I have come to the realization that I process things out loud (or in this case....in print).  I know of many in my life who would say that this is not an appropriate means in which to express myself.  There is such a thing as privacy and such a thing as not letting everyone in the world know everything about me.  They have a valid point. That's why names have been changed to protect the identity of the innocent (and not quite so innocent).  Why do I blog? In a world where everyone puts their best foot forward and wears a mask to hide the truth, I crave authenticity and hunger for something real.  

My first reality that needs to be unmasked...  WE ARE ALL BROKEN! We all have situations, events, circumstances, people, and losing football seasons (hello...I am a die hard Seahawks fan...38 years as an NFL team, 1 super bowl ring) that have broken us.  We all have our "crazy" that we desperately try to hide behind posed, smiling Facebook pictures (or myspace for you "older" crowd who remembers social media in its infancy).  We all put on our masks any time we answer the phone, leave the house, or post on social media.  We measure how well we are hiding by how many friends we have, how little drama we are involved in, and how many people think we have it all together. 

Example...Yesterday, one of my agents at work made the comment that I seemed like the type of confident, strong woman who would tell a man to take a hike if he didn't treat me the right way or want me.  (Amy...no laughing...)  I smiled, straightened my work mask a bit, and internally patted myself on the back, "I must be hiding exceptionally well today!"  Little does my agent know that on any given Saturday, Wednesday, Thursday, or after 5:45 p.m. on work nights her extremely confident, fearless leader can be seen with her hair flying, mascara running, tear stained face, desperately chasing and holding on to the guy that hurt her, threw her away, and then did it all again over and over.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  

Before you judge me, take a moment and be honest with yourself. We have ALL done it.  We have all had our hearts broken and completely lost our cool.  Isn't it amazing how we can keep our composure in almost all circumstances but the minute something touches our hearts we let our crazy run free, masks flying, and taking out everything in our paths?!?  Emotional pain, specifically a broken heart, has a power not of this world. It has the power to take a confident, sane (outside of my choice of sports teams), independent, beautiful woman, and turn her into a psychotic, ranting, needy, freak! A broken heart has the power to make us question ourselves and our self worth in a way that nothing else can and can damage us for years to come.  Some people never fully recover from the effects of a broken heart.  The most serious side effect...it has the power to make us all turn into stalkers.  You know what I am talking about...the random drive bys, going to certain stores in case he/she is there, randomly showing up at their house thinking somehow that was going to fix the situation, using sly dial to send a call straight to their voice mail without having their phone ring, posting ads for their stuff on craigslist, hacking into their online banking to see how they are spending their money, hacking into their email account... You get the point. I will only admit to doing two of the above items. I won't tell you which ones I did, but I will say they had nothing to do with email, banks, craigslist, drive bys, or going to stores (if anything I tend to avoid going certain places).  

So again...why do I blog? Because today I had a conversation with someone who I respect because he has "all together".  He's someone who I would have never in a million years believed had ever felt or done the things I have done.  Once I got over my initial shock, I can't tell you how much better I felt to know that someone else has been where I have been.  Someone else knows what it is like to become the absolute worst version of yourself, and someone else has come out on the other side.  That is why I blog.  The only thing worse than feeling crazy, is feeling crazy alone.  So...if you are feeling like you have totally lost your mind, your mask is off, you are vulnerable and exposed for the world to see (due to football season, relationships, work, kids, etc)...come join my crowd.  You are among friends and those who have been or are where you are right now.