An ex-gf of mine really loved Four Weddings and a Funeral and to be fair it was a good film. Aside from borrowing the title a bit though my blog post has nothing to do w/the British comedy. Instead it has to be with an actual wedding and an actual funeral. I haven’t posted much, due in no small part to well just nothing really happening that I felt merited a blog. I’ve had some time to process a few things however and thought I’d share some experiences I’ve had at late and how I had to work through them. I apologize for the length of this blog post in advance.
First up, loss and where the funeral part of this blog comes into play. In the last year, year and a half or so, I found what is clearly a dangerous but effective activity for me *hand waving again this works for me I don’t recommend it for everyone*. Target shooting, and competitive shooting has strangely been something I’ve been able to sink my teeth into. It’s gotten me back into communicating with others and out of the house more. One of the individuals I met was a member of law enforcement and a very good shooter. I’ll call him J for the sake of this blog. At the age of twenty-six J’s life was cut short, just a few weeks before we were to resume our local league night. I’m no stranger to loss, through my employer I was connected to one of the largest work place shootings in the US. It changed how workplace security was looked at and made me doubly nervous as I got back into hunting and target shooting. While I had only known J through our mutual interest in competitive shooting he was always full of energy, smiles and laughter. I came to find out that a coworker of mine was very close with J’s family and together we attended his services. It was surreal to be there. Seeing him and saying my goodbyes I thought back to when I was twenty six still trying to figure things out. Knowing my own depression I had to be increasingly vigilant to monitor myself and take care of myself. I cut out any form of drinking and tried eating as healthy as I could. Very little sugar, reduced starch, things that would be escapes and comfort foods to make sure that I wasn’t starting on a downward spiral. Eventually after making my peace with it, I found myself back on the shooting line, a photo of J placed in memoriam watching over us. Our first league night was dedicated to his memory and as part of that I wanted to do as well as I could to honor both a LEO and fellow competitor.
A close friend and fellow blogger who attended my wedding so many years ago announced she was engaged. She was set to marry in April, ironically right around the time that marked the anniversary of my divorce. We’ll just call her C. C was mutual friends with both my ex-wife and the guy she left me for. Both would be in attendance at her wedding. My knee jerk reaction was to graciously decline the invite to attend but C had remained my friend amid my divorce and knowing both her and her fiancé I wanted to do what I could. By the time the invitations came out I knew that while I wanted to attend the ceremony the prospect of seeing my ex and her new boyfriend wasn’t something I felt I was going to be able to handle well. A bit of back and forth and I let C know that while I felt tremendously honored to be invited that I wouldn’t be there for the reception. In the back of my head I could hear depression, anxiety and doubt saying all the things I expected them to. Coward, loser, why even go if you won’t stay for the celebration? I had to look in the mirror and really gauge where my balance point was. I was truly so very happy for C and her fiancé but I also knew that I was in no mental shape to try and fake a smile amid old friends, strangers and my ex. It was a compromise to be sure. Between my own mental health and my desire to wish only the best for a friend who had stood by me. Attend I did, arriving early to scope the scene. While I had hoped to be in better shape, I at least felt OK in how I appeared. Going in I knew I’d have to see old former friends and strangers. I greeted those I knew, a few opted not to greet me or acknowledge me. I expected that. As my ex, her new boyfriend and the guy she left me for (man is there a better word for that?) arrived I gave them all a wide berth. I could make out a look of ‘oh great he’s here’ as my ex neared the ceremony site and caught wind of me. As I was amid a group of our mutual friends I stepped away, silently. I let her say her hellos and I positioned myself on the edges of the observing crowd. It was a beautiful ceremony, one that definitely showcased both of them. As the ceremony concluded and we were ushered to the reception space I knew it was my time to go. I bumped into a few of the mutual friends and said my goodbyes. I think a few them understood why I couldn’t be there, others were more shocked that I’d be there only to leave before the real celebration even began. It was a conscious choice. I’ve never really been the partying type and with my ex and various other folks in attendance, there was no way I would be anything close to agreeable. It’s my baggage to deal with. I doubt my presence affected my ex in way other than initial annoyance. It was C’s day, their big moment. I wasn’t about to cast a shadow over things. As I drove home from the venue I assured myself I had made a choice that was best for me. I messaged the new bride my well wishes and sent a few notes to the overlapping friends that I had to depart.
In both cases, J’s funeral, C’s wedding I was painfully reminded of how depression affects your perception of social interaction. At the funeral I felt like there was so much I should have been able to say but couldn’t. I was a stranger among a sea of strangers. At the wedding I felt I had nothing to say. Nothing to say to past friends, nothing to say to my ex and only a few fleeting words to say to the bride and groom. In the end I was glad to have attended both events, but I felt almost eerily disconnected from them. I was tremendously happy for C and her husband even if I couldn’t be happy with them in celebration. Depression takes away so many things from us, anxiety strips away the joy and anticipation about meeting people. Struggling with both to me has become a balancing act. Finding the motivation to push through my anxiety to keep contact with friends and family while tempering it with not being insincere or trying to act purely for the benefit of others. I try to remain honest with my mood and expressions, good or bad. If you find yourself in similar situations remember that while trying is definitely a huge first step, watch for yourself as well. Do not sacrifice your mental health to try and appease anyone else. Friends, true ones, will understand the effort and respect your choices. Should you happen upon this C, thank you for everything.
