I am extremely picky when it comes to snuggling, holding, close physical contact. It makes me uncomfortable almost all of the time, but when it feels good, it really does.
There's a difference in what I would like and what I could do. I long to fall into someone's arms and sigh that
deep sigh of relief and feel the comfort; yet, I don't think I could ever do that because of the control issues I have.
Last week I tried it but it was so stiff and unfeeling. I didn't do the falling into arms thing, but tried to "experience"
something; it was a failure.
"I can be changed by what happens to me, I refuse to be reduced by it." M.A.
One Step Up From Bottom
Teddy
I have no problem offering comfort to another person... it's in my blood to be a compassionate human-being. But, the ability within me to offer physical comfort is very limited, and my ability to accept the warmth of someone else is indeed very twisted and restricted.
Over the years, I have learned to make sure others know it is no secret that physical touch is a very tender and sore subject with me.
The pastor's wife and a woman in our congregation "ask" me if they can hug me... I have made it very clear that I do
not like to be touched and this is their response to that: asking me. I do not like to be rude, but have been forced to
be rude and hurt their feelings several times over this touchy-feely stuff. It makes me want to gag. Although, twice,
within the last three months I have needed that hug and felt it as comfort when I went through some really hairy stuff.
So I think there is hope for me, yet why do I hate the fact that I gave in and needed the hug I was given? Like I betrayed my way of life and allowed someone to get that close; especially since in was a woman... gag
I'm immediately drawn to comfort someone, as a caregiver who was trained to give; then, I feel rage that there is never anyone to give comfort to me!
My forms of giving comfort have not been physical, mostly materialistic stuff, and I give freely. The physical stuff I gave was when I was young/a child, I thought I was giving comfort; but it was either sex or listening to a deranged woman. Sad, sick
memories.
"I can be changed by what happens to me, I refuse to be reduced by it." M.A.
One Step Up From Bottom
Teddy
Comments
picky
I am extremely picky when it comes to snuggling, holding, close physical contact. It makes me uncomfortable almost all of the time, but when it feels good, it really does.
Liking and doing...
There's a difference in what I would like and what I could do. I long to fall into someone's arms and sigh that
deep sigh of relief and feel the comfort; yet, I don't think I could ever do that because of the control issues I have.
Last week I tried it but it was so stiff and unfeeling. I didn't do the falling into arms thing, but tried to "experience"
something; it was a failure.
"I can be changed by what happens to me, I refuse to be reduced by it." M.A.
One Step Up From Bottom
Teddy
Giving v. Receiving
I have no problem offering comfort to another person... it's in my blood to be a compassionate human-being. But, the ability within me to offer physical comfort is very limited, and my ability to accept the warmth of someone else is indeed very twisted and restricted.
Over the years, I have learned to make sure others know it is no secret that physical touch is a very tender and sore subject with me.
What to do...
The pastor's wife and a woman in our congregation "ask" me if they can hug me... I have made it very clear that I do
not like to be touched and this is their response to that: asking me. I do not like to be rude, but have been forced to
be rude and hurt their feelings several times over this touchy-feely stuff. It makes me want to gag. Although, twice,
within the last three months I have needed that hug and felt it as comfort when I went through some really hairy stuff.
So I think there is hope for me, yet why do I hate the fact that I gave in and needed the hug I was given? Like I betrayed my way of life and allowed someone to get that close; especially since in was a woman... gag
I'm immediately drawn to comfort someone, as a caregiver who was trained to give; then, I feel rage that there is never anyone to give comfort to me!
My forms of giving comfort have not been physical, mostly materialistic stuff, and I give freely. The physical stuff I gave was when I was young/a child, I thought I was giving comfort; but it was either sex or listening to a deranged woman. Sad, sick
memories.
"I can be changed by what happens to me, I refuse to be reduced by it." M.A.
One Step Up From Bottom
Teddy