Post-Nuptial Depression: What a B*tch!

Well, it's the Monday after the biggest wedding of the century. Is everyone okay? Any dreams shattered? Lives ruined? Fantasies unmet? I wonder if Kate and Wills are in their room going at it like bunnies while thanking g-d the entire extravaganza is over and they can move on with their royal lives already.

The Monday after my wedding day began with a panic attack at the social security office resulting in the final decision that a hyphenated last name was just not for me. Good times.

My officially becoming "Mrs. Miller" was followed-up by the decision to make my way to the nearest Super Cuts and request the first available appointment to cut "light bangs." This was an inappropriate choice for two reasons: First, because walking into Super Cuts without a small child in need of a trim or a man who simply needs a buzz cut is an extraordinarily bad call. And second, I got married in 2007, not 1997. So there was that.

While bobby-pinning my ridiculous bangs back for the tenth day in a row on my honeymoon, I finally realized what had come over me, creating the panic attack, unflattering hairstyle, and several other "freak out" moments leading up to leaving for our honeymoon 72 hours later. I had experienced a small taste of post-nuptial depression. Yes, post-nuptial depression: postpartum depression's often less destructive, but just as bitchy twin sister. Also the older sister of post-nuptial panic. I wonder if Kate has met her yet?

Post-nuptial depression isn't about being sad about being married; it's simply a symptom of empty space. It's the space between the massive expectations, to-do lists, endless phone calls and people wanting a piece of you every second. And the days following the wedding when everyone signs off on the whole "the world revolves around you" thing and moves onto the next thing. Like Posh's baby news or Oprah's last month of shows. Ya know, the important stuff.

Like the strange feeling that comes after getting off a roller-coaster, laughing and joyful with memories to boot... but a bit dizzy, looking for something to hold onto for a moment while to attempt to re-plant your feet on the ground so you don't lose your lunch. Yeah, post-nuptial depression is kinda like that.

I wonder if Princess William of Wales, Duchess of Cambridge feels blindsided by the transition from going-going-going and doing-doing-doing... to just being? I wonder if she's thinking, "Well, there's that. Mission completed. Married to the best guy ever. Now what? Anyone know a good book? Do you think I would look good with bangs?"

I often wonder why empty space is so scary for so many people. I wonder why we so desperately want life to slow down, but once it does, we quickly figure out what to do next, how to fill the time, which to-do list item to check off if we have a minute to spare. I wonder what a "royal" does when the only thing life is asking them to do is to sit back and enjoy it.

I wonder.

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