I want to go back home and curl up in bed and stay there. The bedroom's so bright though - I'd have to make it darker first.
I don't want to be out here in the world, where people can talk to me, where I'm supposed to be doing things. I want to hide. To disappear. I want to be forgotten. I want to quit this stupid job. Like now, today. "My last day's Friday, unless you'd like me to leave now - I'd be happy to."
I'm really fucking depressed. I can find reasons, but I don't exactly know why. I guess that's the thing with depression though, right? It just... comes. Since the wedding I've been going through a cycle - this sit-in-a-dark-corner-crying state, all the way to a happy, motivated, take-on-the-world go-get-em enthusiasm, and back around again. Back and forth three or four times now at least.
Even when I'm at the high points, though, there are some things that I can't get around, can't put a good face on. The situation with my teeth is highly unpleasant. And I'm stressed about going to a new doctor. But mainly it's the wedding. That's what gets to me most when I'm low like this, and what tends to drag me back into it when I'm up in the clouds. It doesn't help that no one, not even my therapist, will really let me talk about it.
No one will stand for it when you say that your wedding just sucked. It's kind of like when you try to explain that your parents are bad people. They always want to tell you that no, it really can't be that bad. But you know what? Sometimes it is just that bad. Some people are terrible parents who do horrible, fucked up things to their kids and cause irreversible damage. And some people have crappy weddings that, once they're all over with, the bride would rather never think about again. I'm afraid that for me, both of these things are true, and I'm sorry if no one wants to hear it. It's not as if I wouldn't like to change it if I could.
So there you go. The truth is out. I had a stupid, crappy wedding, and thinking about it makes me sad. I'll spend the next five years or so building a fable of what it actually was, so that I can think about it without wanting to cry. I'll spend a lot of mental energy focusing on the 10% of it that was really great, so that the 90% that was shit will get a little hazy. Gosh, it's every girl's dream come true.
Am I bitter? Yeah. Is it attractive? On the contrary, I'm sure it's one of my very worst qualities. But honestly, how the hell am I supposed to feel? Everyone wants to tell me, but oh, now you're married to they guy you love. Yes, I know that. And that part's great. And it would be true if we'd both taken a half day off of work and gone down to city hall to get it done. That's the marriage. I'm talking about the wedding - the wedding which was fucked from start to finish... a fact which is almost definitely my fault.
And now the most pressing question: how the hell am I going to get through work today?