I am relieved to have found a community of people who understand the overwhelming sensation that comes when confronted with very large things. After a recent session with a client discussing an 8,000-foot deep mine in South Dakota, I felt compelled to delve deeper into the subject. My internet search led me to a Reddit group called “Megalomania: Fear of Large Things,” and instantly I knew I had discovered a place where my awe and unease could run wild.
Lately, I’ve received feedback from clients and friends suggesting that my perception might be a bit off. When I replay my part in these interactions, I tend to draw negative conclusions about my approach. It’s been disheartening (as well as helpful) to question my own insights and be mindful of being critical of myself.
Speaking of unexpected surprises, I received a text message from my aunt that was sent to me and ten other family members. The message informed us that we have two weeks to come by and take what we want from our grandmother’s house, as it is being sold. While I knew selling the house was a possibility, I didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
I want to assist in any way I can during this process, but some family members are being difficult, and others seem to be in a phase of greed. My instincts are telling me to not involve myself too deeply. I did share with my aunt the story of a small plate my grandmother received as a gift from her brother on VJ Day – the day WWII ended on August 14, 1945 (my Grandma would have been 17). I vividly remember my grandmother recounting the celebrations in downtown Seattle that day. Unfortunately, I suspect the plate may have already been taken but we will see.
Having heard numerous stories about fights over money during end-of-life situations, I’m neither surprised nor upset. It’s simply a reality that exists for many families.
As I stepped out of the bath earlier, an image of a huge pause button entered my mind. I fantasized about pressing that button, pausing everything – the dirty coffee mug needing to be taken downstairs, the pile of clothes that need to be washed, and even the extra weight I’ve been meaning to address. Just a pause. A moment of respite. I feel a deep need for that, more than I feel the need to keep going. Perhaps not forever, but just for a little while.
Perhaps what I’m experiencing now is just a growing pain, a transitional phase, or something else entirely. When I come home, all I want is to be alone, to have some solitary time on the couch. The responsibilities I have towards others are constantly demanding my attention, and while they are important to me, I find myself yearning for a break, as sometimes, the urge to abandon ship becomes quite strong.
A pause doesn’t mean I’m giving up on my responsibilities entirely; it’s a temporary break to allows me to recharge and regain perspective. So, I’m embracing it and prioritizing my well-being, and I’m hopeful it will restore my energy.
Take care! Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 