Where to start...

I had no idea I was foreshawdowing my own self, but I'm here to tell you again that getting married does not solve even one of your problems.

The wedding - I was terrified. I shouldn't admit that, but I was, as the ceremony progressed, completely terrified. I'm even now just starting to process what happened and whether or not I can handle it. Someday I will probably look back on it with laughter and pleasure, though not today.

However, the past few days have pretty much trumped all of that. I'm sure more things could have gone wrong, but quite a few actually have. I got food poisoning the first night of our honeymoon, and then my new husband came down with something flu-like, with lots of coughing, and the weather never did give us a great sunny day to just lie on the beach. It was cool and windy and cloudy.

But none of that is as bad as the fact that my sweetie's brother had a stroke the Monday after the wedding, while he and his lovely wife were in South Carolina trying to sightsee. We were "honeymooning" (such as it was with both of us ill) about five miles away, and ended up spending an extra night in the area in hopes of being helpful. I'm not sure we were helpful, but we tried to be.

I have so many conflicting feelings towards so many different people for the moment that I really could cry at any moment, and I considered calling at least some of you on Wednesday when I was sobbing in the car on the way from Charleston to Charlotte. I feel a huge sense of anti-climax that the wedding is over and that so much of it didn't turn out the way I'd hoped. I feel so worried for H's brother, and so sad that this should happen at such a time so the wedding will always be "when Mark had a stroke" instead of just the wedding - for them as much as for me.

I feel like I made a thousand mistakes in the run up to the wedding. I feel terrified lest this whole thing has been a horrible mistake. I feel terrified that my family will never accept my husband, since AT THE WEDDING my mother apparently lamented to a friend of mine, "But he's not a southerner..." (Even though he grew up in Pensacola...)

I feel completely overwhelmed by the number of people who were at the wedding, and horribly guilty that so many of them left without even attempting to speak to me. I feel disappointed that it was nearly impossible to take pictures at any time, since either it was raining or people were talking to us or my mother wasn't even dressed yet or there just wasn't a good place to do it. I feel disappointed that I never got a picture with all of my aunts.

I feel worried about whether or not I can even DO this whole marriage thing, and still be myself. I'm keeping my name (for now), but even that doesn't stop how frightened I feel at losing my identity into this new "us".

I feel exhausted from driving 12 hours yesterday.

I feel entirely flawed for feeling any of these things, since most brides seem to be delirious with happiness and contentment. Well, surprise surprise, I screwed that up.

I feel a whole batch of other things I don't think I should write down, because now I have another family that I might offend. What if H's family ever came across this?? Now I have two sets of muzzles...

I feel incapable of telling entertaining stories about the wedding, but everyone at work was expecting me to do so. The "surprise" congrats they threw me was exhausting, and it only lasted about 15 minutes.

Despite my deep sadness that apparently I did nothing but disappoint my mother at the wedding, I feel incredibly proud of her for driving down to Charleston yesterday to visit Mark and his wife and be a resource for them in a strange land.

I feel I failed everyone in trying to keep everyone happy. But no one would have been at all happy had I tried to make myself happy - no win no matter what.

I feel so so so disappointed that it rained.

I feel like all the bad things that keep going wrong are the universe's way of telling me: you've made a terrible mistake.

I feel like I would like to run away. I think I would like to take my honey with me, but I would like to run away.

I think I need some sleep, a cookie, and probably a couple of sessions with our therapist, but sadly (for us, not her), she's out of town this week. I feel resentful that she picked this week to be off on a holiday.

The funny thing is, I didn't see any of this coming.

So much for being a well-adjusted adult.