So I travelled up to Lewisham last night to spend the night with my little sister.
She’s been crazy busy with work and, more excitingly, wedding planning (eeeek!)- so it was so great to catch up with her and hear how everything’s going. The main and most exciting headline: she has finally picked her dress.
I was lucky enough to get a sneak preview of it, and can confirm… it’s utterly and completely stunning.
My sister’s beautiful anyway, so in all likelihood anything would have looked good- but the dress she picked is absolutely perfect. I think I read somewhere that a girl knows when she puts on the right wedding dress, as it just feels right; and I really think she found the one she’s supposed to have.
It’s vintage, boho, gypsy chic- and really authentic looking, like the kind of dress I imagine being on a run-way, that designers would base their creations on. It seemed genuinely unique- and she looked so so beautiful.
We had a few lovely moments oohing and aahing at the fabric and the detail.. and then it suddenly hit me.. the realisation struck- my little sister is getting married. She’s going to be a wife.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s the most amazing thing. Simmy, her husband to be, proposed when we were all away in Kefolonia over the summer, and she swam out into the sea to tell me whilst he watched on from the shore with a smile on his face.
I almost drowned her at first, but once I’d gotten over the initial rush of excitement, we swam back in and I gave my future brother in law a massive hug and kiss.
Simmy is a diamond, one of the best guys I know, and they are absolutely perfect for one another- so I have no problem whatsoever with him putting a ring on her finger.
It’s just.. for some reason, I can’t seem to factor these words; ‘married,’ ‘husband and wife,’ ‘brother in law’, into my thinking and my mental vocabulary. They seem strange, like trying to accommodate foreign terms or phrases.
I think it’s just the shift in perspective. My sister is going to be a wife; she and Simmy are no longer just a couple, they are engaged to be married. It’s like it’s just hit home for me, how far into adulthood we all are now.
The word, adult, still seems very alien to me most days. I guess the idea of adulthood I had when I was young, was very different from what I am experiencing now. Moreover, with a diagnosis of mental illness, my thinking was probably more ordered and sensible when I was 17 than how it is most days now!
But I know that this isn’t unusual- most people don’t feel “adult” all the time.
We had a great night, but my tic and other assortment of mental bollocks decided to make an appearance for a while; and brought with it the usual array of paranoid, delusional crap. It’s like the illness just comes out of nowhere and blacks out everything positive that had been happening beforehand.
We were just relaxing, looking at the wedding photos of different people she knew, so that she could show the photographer she was meeting today what styles and themes she liked and didn’t; and so were laughing a lot at some peoples blatant tack and cheese, and cooing over other ones which were absolutely beautiful.
It was just a fun, laid back evening; but for some reason my bloody head seems to take issue with that fact.
And it’s not even reason driving it! Just echoes of previous delusional preoccupations. It is the most dam frustrating thing in the world when symptoms which you know are meaningless and utterly pointless come on and distract from a really good evening.
I know my sister wouldn’t think anything of it- she has definitely seen me at my worse and so a little bit of distraction and tetchiness isn’t the end of the world. But it breaks my heart a little bit when I have nights like last night, when I feel as though my symptoms are getting me down and making issues which simply don’t need to be there.
I know, I know- the reality is: they are not “making issues.”
They are only getting me down. I wanted to be as upbeat, positive and fun as I could be- and they seem to derail that, which is annoying.
I am sure that anybody who deals with any form of mental illness can understand the frustration, that comes with being affected by something which usually doesn’t make any sense, or have any decent or underlying rational behind it.
But, the bright side– it passed, and we had a good giggle before we went off to sleep trying to remember old songs which our grandparents used to play to us on car journeys when we were young.
“Duke, duke, duke, duke of earl, duke, duke, duke…” being the lyrics which had us in stitches. I doubt anybody other than my sister will get that reference, but they’re actually the scintillating lyrics of a really awesome song from the 60’s- go figure.
These moments, the ones which make you smile to remember, are always the ones which are most important.
The ones which take you in the other direction aren’t worth it, they’re just distractions from the real stuff. The other song we managed to recall was Itchycoo Park, an absolute tune; which had us both singing, and reminiscing about long car journeys we did with our nan and granddad years ago, back when we really were kids..
“It’s all, too beautiful….” What a song!
My sister is soon to be married; and I can’t wait to be her maid of honour. Something which truly is an honour.. and means the absolute world to me. She is the most gorgeous, big-hearted, supportive sister ever, and I’m so very happy that she’s marrying the man of her dreams in July.
Bring on the party, and bring on the celebrations! 😉