A few years ago I read an article in a trashy magazine (a secret indulgence - honestly, perfect for making you feel better about yourself, eg. I feel stupid today.... but at least my husband didn't run off with my sister's son!), anyway, this article was about a woman who got antenatal depression. Yes, depression while pregnant.
Now, of course, I had heard of postnatal depression, but never antenatal.
Similarly, I have heard of the post wedding blues - which I have just named postmatrimonial depression. I mean, everyone I have spoken to got them a little bit; the fact it is all over, the fact you aren't planning for it any more etc...
Of course, being the crazy person that I am, it was only natural that I buck the trend.
Yes my loves, I have diagnosed myself with antematrimonial depression.
I am now at five weeks and two days to go and I am miserable.
Everything is busy and needs doing and while I usually thrive under pressure (indeed it is a pretty major part of my job), now I am floundering.
Part of it is the demand of it all and part of it is that I am anticipating the sadness to come.
I mean, I am planning on doing this once (take note Steve - no hoochies!), and in five weeks and two days, all that excitement of a proposal and an engagement and planning this brilliant, wonderful day will be gone.
And that is kind of sad.
I have enjoyed this time, this special, me and Steve time. And yes, I'll admit it, I have enjoyed the positive attention, the only time I have had this much thrust upon me was after the fire and that was just a hideous thing, not excited attention, just poor-you-how-awful-we-are-so-shocked-and-sad attention. Rubbish.
The up side is, of course, that I will be left with a (fingers crossed) amazing marriage, to a man I love and adore, and who loves and adores me back.
So that is what I am filling this sadness void with. That and wine. xxx
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