I just looked up the word "whelm" to see if it was in fact a word on its own. Here's what Merriam-Webster.com had to say about it:
whelm: to turn (as a dish or vessel) upside-down usually to cover something : cover or engulf completely with usually disastrous effect.
I am the dish. I am the vessel.
But the funny thing is that I keep turning—so one minute I pop up out of the water and dry off, then the next I'm upside-down again, covered over. Whelmed.
The past six months have included more milestones and transitions than I've experienced in the past six years. There was the engagement. And the beginning of the planning. And the offer on the house. Then the moving of the roommate. And the moving of me. And Christmas. And wine-tasting after Christmas (which was fun at the time, but man could I have used those two days more productively). And the relandscape.
And now we are quickly approaching the part where Mr. Wonderful leaves me for London for two months and I climb into the saddle of house guardianship, while trying to keep all the wedding plates spinning at the right speed.
Last night I was trying to finish a slideshow we're putting together to run behind the bar at the reception and Mr. W came to tell me he was going to bed...and I melted down. My vessel capsized and the next thing I knew, I was drowning in tears.
I don't like to ask for help. I am a control freak to my core. So I usually take on too much, thinking I can handle it all (even when I'm already overcome by other things, like for example the fact that my fiance leaving town and not returning until the week before our wedding). And it always leads me to the same end spot: Stress. Overwhelm. Bathroom blubbering.
Mr. Wonderful told me I need to seek out assistance. I need to communicate to him—or family or friends or strangers in line at the grocery store—that I need help.
I'm going to try. Maybe I'll start by asking you guys to help me remember that I'm supposed to be doing this...