I spent the afternoon and evening at the wedding of one of my cousins--one I grew up with--and the awesome woman who married him. I actually do love them both and think they're a great couple. However, there was all the possibility of Terrible Wedding Things. Obnoxious, long toasts, bouquet toss, having a great many family members in one place asking about your job and relationship status. (Unemployed and single, thank you for asking.) So I went into the day skeptical and hoping for the best, as with all weddings.
Yesterday was kind of a backslide for me. Before I left for France, I was just starting to get myself back. I hate that my relationship ending brought out this terrible part of me, but it did. I'd been dealing with it and going to France did a lot for me. It was a wonderful and necessary experience. (Lots to blog about...stay tuned.) Not that it was the escape from home that I needed, but being at summer camp and talking to people who knew me when I was wholly myself and people who didn't know me at all but didn't see all the terrible parts that came out recently and leaving bullshit behind so I could run around outside and play pranks and hang out with cool kids...that was the part I needed.
It's nice to be back. But yesterday brought out the ugly things again. I just kept imagining these horrible scenarios with my family at the wedding...talking about my failed relationship that, hearing their opinions of my failed relationship...I'll stop there. By the time I got dressed I was steeling myself to be angry. When my dress didn't fit the way it used to, I totally melted down.
I am not proud of those moments.
Then I spent the day with my family. They mean well and they're RIDICULOUS in a really awesome way and sometimes I forget that. We ate good food and everyone had a Tom Collins in honor of my grandfather (I learned that was his drink of choice) and danced and there was no bouquet toss and instead of talking about my breakup we ended up talking about setting me up with single men. (Oh yeah...I'm dating now, apparently?) I left there feeling like the person I prefer to be.
Today found me with an emotional/maybe some gin/dancing/not enough water hangover...which is vastly different from and much better than a straight up drinking hangover. Mostly it means wiped out and fighting off self-loathing, to be honest. I allowed myself to skip working out and instead cleaned. I'm combatting the urge to go back to bed by washing my sheets. Sometimes it's the best you can do.
I'm trying to do better.
Stick around for some Paris updates. Here's a preview:
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