The Weekend Trip Has Taken Its Toll

And I don’t just mean the tollways. I admit that I didn’t want to go on the trip in the first place because I can’t stand weddings, probably because all we had was a Civil Ceremony, as most of you know.

The six-hour trip to Ames, Iowa, was bad enough, and I don’t think my father-in-law was too happy about us being late for the rehearsal dinner. In fact, Brian missed the rehearsal entirely, and at that point, I began to think that maybe not having a wedding was a good idea, after all. But witnessing all of the decorations, declarations, and so on was too much. The judge never said anything about “these two people” or about love or anything, and neither did my sister or brother-in-law, because who would they be addressing? The waitress at the restaurant my mother took us to afterwards? Also, because Brian was a groomsman, I had to be at the church three hours early, as well, to be part of the family pictures of which I was in all of . . . maybe four?

We didn’t even get to sit together at the reception because he was seated at the head table. Thank God he didn’t have to dance with his ’ho partner or sit next to her. I didn’t leave my chair the entire time nor did I make eye contact with him until towards the end. Fortunately, I was sitting with my in-laws, so that was good.

Near the end of the reception, I began to feel nauseous and yawn uncontrollably. Most people were leaving, anyway, so Brian and I decided to leave (I was talking to him again by then), and I had to run to the restroom because I thought I would throw up. I tried to make myself, because once it actually happens, people usually feel better, but I couldn’t get anything out. The weird thing was that I didn’t feel anxious.

Don’t get me wrong — I’m very happy for my brother-in-law and his new wife. But yes, I was — am — jealous. Still, I soldiered through the day as best as I could, but when we returned to the hotel room, a ton of BPD symptoms burst out of me and I ended up cutting.

I felt suicidal. I felt that nothing in my life has gone the way I had pictured it as a little girl — the mood disorders, disability, ECT, no career. I’d always thought I’d have a wedding ceremony. Even my first husband and I eloped because I wasn’t getting along with my parents at the time. (I get along well with my dad now, but my mom has yet to acknowledge my recent birthday, but that’s another story. Oh, yeah — they’re divorced. That’s why my dad is so much cooler and relaxed now.)

Brian was right, of course — I’d feel better the next day. I did, but the drive back was still stressful. We stopped at an outlet mall and spent way too much, and now we’re paying for it. And I’m literally paying, emotionally, for the entire weekend. But I missed my brother-in-law’s graduation in May, and manipulated Brian into missing it, too. Ain’t BPD grand? I felt that I really owed this weekend to Brian; he has more of a connection to his immediate family than I do to mine.

As soon as we hit the road early Friday afternoon, the high I felt from winning my game Thursday night, that exhilaration and excitement that I’d been holding onto since the 3rd period buzzer rang and that I was hoping would get me through the weekend . . . vanished.