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Paul managed to calm me down, which I suppose is one of the multitude of reasons I am marrying him. Also, bridesmaids helped too which is why they are my bridesmaids and best friends and love them. (Aware that that was an incomplete, grammatically horrendous sentence and don't care.)

It's weird but being in France, five thousand miles away from Paul for almost five months was tolerable. For the most part I did not feel like I was about to go mad or have any sort of nervous breakdown or any other negative type reactions. Obviously I wasn't deliriously happy about it or anything but I also wasn't feeling like a crazy person ready to jump out of my skin.

I wish I could say the same thing about being a mere 360 miles apart. For reasons I can't quite put my finger on I'm having a much harder time with this. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there is so much to do and I am finally in a position to do it and I'm feeling a little bit like a deer in the headlights with a ten ton truck rushing at me at eight hundred thousand miles per hour. Typically when I'm feeling like this, Paul rubs my back, cooks something delicious and pours me a large glass of wine. But he is not here and so mostly I have just been pouring myself many large glasses of wine. Not exactly the healthiest of coping strategies I suppose.

Labels: Depression, Life