Unfamiliar with Vestments, I Don't Know What Those Were Called
So, I went to the wedding. Besides getting out of hell for a while, it also gave me the chance to experience a bunch of unusual situations (such as hanging out with people who've been drinking). The wedding itself wasn't overtly religious; although the officiate (the bride's brother) had "vestments" and "authority . . . by God," he was apparently joking. During the actual ceremony (from what I could make out from behind all the more important people who were able to stand in the area with chairs), I don't recall if he referenced any religions that are still believed by significant numbers of people. On the other hand, it appears that the bride took the groom's last name. It's sad that people still cling to this chauvinistic tradition even a full generation after people started fixing it.
One thing, however, that struck me was how many times I was too afraid even to say things to lokodraucarn, one of the closest I have to a friend and one of the few people I'm inviting when trying to get together a group where I don't have to be afraid. In this case, I believe that having a common interest gives me courage, but I don't know whether it will help me move on or just be inapplicable to other situations. I went to another diagnosis last week, and the best they could drum up was "schizotypal disorder."