Looming large

This is one end of my room. The door (that swag-bag is my laundry) and my 3ft clothes rail.

Now, here’s the oddity. Sometimes, when I sit at the other end of my room, ie here ~

~ like today, the clothes rail just looks normal to me, simply okay.

But other days, it looks MASSIVE – absolutely HUMUNGOUS – so that I feel overwhelmed by the sight of it. Then I’m surprised when a day like today comes along and it seems only normal.

And the same is true with my body. Sometimes when I am walking along, I feel really tall – as tall as an angel sometimes. Walking down the street getting taller and taller.

And sometimes I feel very stout and fat – not average at all, immense. Frighteningly large.

I am in fact rather big. My feet are UK size 9 – 10 (so, EU size 43/44, US size 12). My hands won’t go in women’s gloves mostly, and hats are generally too tight. And I wear a big clothes size. And my doctor and her practice nurse tend to suck their teeth and ask me what I plan to do about losing weight.

So I have the idea that I surge through the universe not so much like a mosquito or mouse as a fair-sized planet.  And my beautiful mama likes to tell me that she has always thought of me as really Big (in contrast to herself primarily). Why, thank you Mama.

When I sit in church (and the pew creaks) and I look down at my lap, I think Blimey! Plenty of you!

But then another time I’ll catch sight of myself and think – no; you’re just normal.

And sometimes my hands feel terrifyingly huge like bunches of bananas. I look down at them and they’re just hands.

Sometimes I feel so enormous it’s a relief when I get up in the morning and see myself in the mirror and I still look like an ordinary person.

Odd.

Does this happen to you, too?

What is it?