Last night I had a nightmare about the wedding. During the day I don't feel anxious; I actually feel excited and spend some seriously quality time daydreaming about how it will feel to have everyone in Chicago at our wedding. At night, however, the shadow side of consciousness hints at other feelings. Say, anxiety, for example.
The dream I woke up from this morning was nightmarish in every way-- I married the wrong person who was totally wrong for me. In the dream, my wrong husband was really tall, really hairy-- strawberry blonde and wiry hair-- and really drunk. Instead of spending the night with me he was going to go out with his friends and do shots. I kept telling him in the dream that we should spend our wedding night together, but he was having none of that. There was also a menacing subplot where I had forgotten to get my dress and it was too late to go get it because it was after business hours.
Here's the best part of the dream, though. As soon as I realized that I had married a slovenly punk, I started to say very clearly that I wanted to marry Jeff Ellis. I was really, really sad that I hadn't married him and I felt so much love for him. I was not attracted to the drama of marrying Mr. Kegger, and I wanted my peaceful happy life with Jeff.
I am totally scared of getting married. I am scared of commitment down to my very core. My mitochondria (powerhouse of cell anyone?) is quaking with fear. I don't like committing to a plan on a three-day weekend. How about the next thirty years? It's a preverbal fear. It came to me before language. I am scared of not doing it right or telling myself day after day for the next few decades that I should be more like Jeff-- more right-brained (or is it left?), more organized, more systematic, more calm, more logical. No one in the world has that idea in their head except for me. But, I am the one I hear all day long. Well, it's me and that guy down the hall at work who insists on using speaker phone all damn day. (He just ordered lunch . . . on speakerphone.)
I am sure I am marrying the right man for me. I am sure that it's normal and healthy to be afraid and anxious about the whole process. I would rather be sleeping and having nightmares than not sleeping and climbing the walls with insomnia.
On a totally unrelated note, our first wave of invitations went out last night. As Jeff said, "104 out the door." Yes, totally unrelated.
The dream I woke up from this morning was nightmarish in every way-- I married the wrong person who was totally wrong for me. In the dream, my wrong husband was really tall, really hairy-- strawberry blonde and wiry hair-- and really drunk. Instead of spending the night with me he was going to go out with his friends and do shots. I kept telling him in the dream that we should spend our wedding night together, but he was having none of that. There was also a menacing subplot where I had forgotten to get my dress and it was too late to go get it because it was after business hours.
Here's the best part of the dream, though. As soon as I realized that I had married a slovenly punk, I started to say very clearly that I wanted to marry Jeff Ellis. I was really, really sad that I hadn't married him and I felt so much love for him. I was not attracted to the drama of marrying Mr. Kegger, and I wanted my peaceful happy life with Jeff.
I am totally scared of getting married. I am scared of commitment down to my very core. My mitochondria (powerhouse of cell anyone?) is quaking with fear. I don't like committing to a plan on a three-day weekend. How about the next thirty years? It's a preverbal fear. It came to me before language. I am scared of not doing it right or telling myself day after day for the next few decades that I should be more like Jeff-- more right-brained (or is it left?), more organized, more systematic, more calm, more logical. No one in the world has that idea in their head except for me. But, I am the one I hear all day long. Well, it's me and that guy down the hall at work who insists on using speaker phone all damn day. (He just ordered lunch . . . on speakerphone.)
I am sure I am marrying the right man for me. I am sure that it's normal and healthy to be afraid and anxious about the whole process. I would rather be sleeping and having nightmares than not sleeping and climbing the walls with insomnia.
On a totally unrelated note, our first wave of invitations went out last night. As Jeff said, "104 out the door." Yes, totally unrelated.
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