I spoke to my psychiatrist about social activities, namely, the fact that I am currently signed off work ill with 'stress-related illness' (for some reason my doctors don't like to put specifics on sick notes). The psych stated that social activities are therapeutic, and as long as I don't go out and act completely irresponsibly it was acceptable for me to attend. It was confirmed to me that the psychiatry team fully support me attending the wedding so long as I was well enough on the day; after all, I am off due to poorly controlled Bipolar Disorder, so some days I am more capable than others.
My psychiatrist said that attending the wedding was a good thing if it were possible for me to get out, so that was my decision made, if I could move from my couch, I was going.
The anxiety attack started 48 hours before the event...
- What if I am not going to be well enough to go?
- What if my clothes don't fit on the day, even though they do now?
- What if I have a panic attack mid ceremony and steal all the attention?
- What if I can't find anyone to fix my eyebrows?
- What if I can't find anyone to dye my hair?
- What if I look awful on the photos and ruin her photographs?
- What if I say something out of line? (I have no brain-to-mouth filter)
- What if I don't like the food and look ridiculous?
- What if I don't like the strangers at our table?
- What if people expect my to do things I feel uncomfortable with?
Somehow, I dragged myself through to the day before the wedding, and managed to find a friend to fix my brows, and a sister to fix my hair... two things less on the worry list... NO, I managed to replace them with other worries... What about the weather, what if I get a headache, what if my heartburn kicks off...?
Finally the day arrived, and true to form I was awake STUPIDLY early. I like to have to rush to get ready as it gives me less time to focus upon my anxieties. I tried to go back asleep; NO, not happening. I tried to watch a film to distract me; NO, can't concentrate. I try to ignore the internal battle of 'I want to be just on time; versus 'You need to get ready, or you'll be late'.
By 10am, my anxieties are sky high. I jump a mile when the postman posts parcels... (happily some sashes I ordered for my other friend's hen night). By 12pm I'm trying for the 10th time to do my hair. I can't make my hair look anything but rubbish, so I'm crying... Happily I haven't done my makeup yet... This is all before I've even got dressed to go...
I was finally good to go, AN HOUR EARLY... I can't deal with waiting around for an hour, I know, I'll go to mums...
Get to my mums, completely forget that there's a massive dog in residence (our family dog, I just forgot that a dog plus tights means potential ladders and lots of fluff)
Before you read the next bit please realise that I am grateful for everything I mention, but the gratitude is tainted by my stupid mental processes:
Then, at the eleventh hour, a change of plan. Instead of me gathering everybody in a taxi, my friend decided she was driving due to the weather. I know, most people would be grateful for saving a bit of cash, but to me it just threw my mental plan. I didn't even think to inform her that I was at mums instead of being at mine.
Then, she made her own way to the church. I am a creature of habit and had a mental plan of how I would have driven. I resisted my instinct to butt in; she was the driver and I should be grateful for the lift. She parked what I considered to be MILES from the church. (I had the advantage of being familiar with the church, so I have no reason to complain really, and it wasn't that far, probably 400m.)
I battled my mental monologue and got to the church :) We were very early, but not the first there. We greeted the groom and found a space to wait. The ceremony was perfect, a lovely service (I got a bit upset by them using an unorthodox tune to 'All Things Bright and Beautiful, but I got over it), and I was able to access a cup of tea afterwards to take paracetamol for the brewing migraine. I knew straight away that it was a stress migraine, after all, I had had a 48 hour panic attack building up to this ceremony.
Ceremony over, now to tackle the wedding breakfast on a table with strangers. Luckily, whether planned or otherwise, my friends sat either side of me shielding me from strangers, for which I was grateful. They also understood when I didn't speak for 20 minutes whilst I tried to get a handle on my aching head and waves of nausea.
Feeling more in control and healthier, I enjoyed the speeches, cutting of the cake and laughing at 'Mr Westlife', the toastmaster who looked and sounded like Louis Walsh would stick him in a boyband.
I then had to follow the preceding seven tables to visit the buffet. I DON'T really do buffets, you don't know who's been mauling your food, has there been flies on it, has anyone sneezed/coughed/sweated on it??
However, I was feeling both brave and incredibly hungry, so I decided to get a selection and see how it went. I got a curry, rice, chips, chicken stuff, pizza, wedges, sausage rolls... I got LOADS!!! and aside from the rogue peppers and courgettes in the curry, I ate everything!!!
I felt like I'd achieved. I felt like the day had taken a social upturn for me, I had coped...
Remember the migraine? Well it took the gap between wedding breakfast and the reception as its opportunity to swim back into my head with an enormous bang.
I lasted until 9pm, and my mum got a mercy plea to pick me up.
I got home, puked, and slept for 12 hours. I thought that I felt better today, but I think I have used up my social battery. I went to my parents to collect my car and was tired within moments.
Right now I'm lying on the couch having been here for hours, typing this slowly to prove to myself that I can.
Did I make a fool of myself? NO
Did I survive? YES
Could I do it again, anytime? NO. I need some time to recover myself I think
In all, it was worth it, I got to witness the wedding of my beautiful friend and share a once in a lifetime day with her. Yes, I will be knackered for a week or more now, but I feel like, just for a day, I was living again.
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