A Wedding Story

Somehow, our wedding has come and gone. I still can't believe it's over. All that work. All that planning. All the tears, frustrations, sleepless nights...they all lead to it, and it's done.

To say I am sad it is over, would be a complete lie. To say it wasn't worth it, would also be a lie.

Let me start by saying, I loved my wedding. I was cool and calm for most of the day (even though I hardly slept the night before). I got to spend time with my closest friends and family, and then? Then, I got to walk down the aisle to the man of my dreams. I can't explain what came over me when I saw him waiting for me- but for the first time in what has felt like forever, I experienced pure joy.

It's no secret I hated the planning process. Between my anxiety, depression, and eating disorder- it was pretty much the worst feeling ever. I put so much pressure on myself, and in hindsight, I have no idea why. I wasn't scared to marry Spencer- that never crossed my mind.

I finally admitted to Spencer one night that the eating disorder was winning, because all I could think was that I'd walk down the aisle, and I'd see people whispering, and I was so scared they'd be whispering about how fat I'd gotten.

In reality- I barely looked at everyone looking at me. I was too busy having the biggest smile on my face looking at Spencer. Frankly, I'm surprised I didn't run down the aisle at him.

My dress was once a symbol of my downfall. I hated it. I dreaded trying it on over the past year and half. Then, one of my bridesmaids sent me to a seamstress who was wonderful, and made my $500 Davids Bridal dress into a work of art. When I ended up in the ER after a week and a half of the worst bronchitis I've ever known, I had to go back to her because I dropped 10lbs (9 days before the wedding). She never got mad at me, she was patient, and kind, and now that dress is hanging in a window in our study, and I'm so sad I don't get to wear it again.

I even completely wiped out during our first dance, and instead of letting it break me, I laughed, stood up, and the show went on. I was honestly not even that embarrassed. It was more embarrassing that people THOUGHT I should be embarrassed. Once everyone finally started laughing with me, it became a hilarious story to tell.

As for the rest of the night? Perfect. The venue was everything I dreamed it would be and all those colors and flowers I stressed out about SO much looked amazing together. The food was spectacular. Everyone had fun, and the dance floor was packed until the end of the night. I had the time of my life.

When we left for our honeymoon, I had no idea how much would change over that week. We had the worst wifi service ever- so we didnt wake up every morning and look at our phones- we woke up to each other and talked. I felt the warmth of the sun on my face (I refused to be in a bathing suit this summer, so I can't tell you the last time I felt that way). I saw water like I've never seen it before. I laughed with my husband, and drank so much rum I felt like I belonged on Captain Jack Sparrow's ship. One night, after a few (a lot) of drinks, Spencer and I sat on some rocking chairs and I looked at the sky. The stars in the Caribbean are simply breathtaking. I took it all in and for the first time in what fees like forever, I told Spencer, "times like these, I know God is real." I walked on the softest sand I've ever felt (seriously, it was like walking on pillows) all that week, and ate french fries every day- and just didn't care. I had a few moments where my eating disorder tried to fight me, like when I envied the women who walked around with confidence no matter what they looked like. Then I remembered, who cares what these people think? Something inside me clicked, and I felt so relieved.

I remember the day I realized I was burned out. I told my parents, Spencer, and my counselor that I had no joy in my life. Seriously, I couldn't find it in anything at all. Everything that once made me happy just didn't anymore. I was numb to everything. I am still so sad that those were the days and months leading up to the wedding. I am grateful for my doctors who have done whatever it takes to help get me to a healthy/happy state. Who have listened to me cry because I'm sad when I have absolutely no reason or right to be sad.

I'm treading carefully now, because there's still a lot of work to be done, but I look back on pictures and smile- because truly that was one of the best nights of my life, followed by the best week of my life. The stress was silly, but you couldn't have told me that at the time. That's anxiety for you- taking control and driving you near insane over something silly.

I learned a lot over this process. I learned to let people in and let them help. I tried to do this on my own for too long and I broke. I was nervous to tell my friends what was going on, but they opened their arms to me and never judged me. They've even started to say I seem more like myself finally. I let my mom take over the last bit of wedding planning- which I KNOW was hard on her, but she took it off my plate and I couldn't be more grateful. I let Spencer in to my dark thoughts - the things you don't want your husband to know, not surprisingly he was supportive and wonderful and did everything in his power to help and understand me.

I'm excited that I'm officially Mrs. Ziegler. The path wasn't easy, but nothing good in life is, right? I know it won't be happily ever after, because thats just not the way anxiety/depression/eating disorders work, but it will be ever after with the most amazing husband a girl could ask for.

Thank you to everyone for your help, support, love, and encouragement through this.

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