I forgot that I was out of Kimchi so I couldn’t have ramen.  I had to actually cook stuff.  It was so frustrating.  I hate having to actually cook stuff.  There’s a lot of other things I would rather be doing than cooking.  I do like cooking and baking sometimes, just not when I want to study or watch the tellie.

I deleted my Pokemon Go off my phone in order to make room for My Fitness Pal again.  It’s sort of ridiculous.  I know the only reason the number on the scale went up is because I’m trying to not count calories and then I eat a lot of salty foods.  I’m perfectly aware that I’ve only really gained water weight.  At the same time, body dysmorphia.  You know?  I have this fear of being fat, getting fat.  But at the same time, I sort of want to be fat.  That fatness would be like a barrier between me and the rest of the world.  Logically, that isn’t how it works.

When I was fatter, I had more people hitting on me all the time.  Nowadays, most people assume that I’m of jailbait age.  It works great as a people deterrent.  I was never comfortable with men or women flirting with me.  I think that was because I didn’t like the notion of getting intimate with people.

Why do I bring this up?  What is the point of this rant?  I’ve been having a lot of nightmares lately.   A majority of my nightmares have to do with me getting used, mostly sexually.  I don’t really want to get into too many details here, because I don’t feel like I’m ready for that sort of thing.  I do want to say that I have been raped and I have been sexually abused and assaulted.  I’m using all three terms to mean different things, for the record.

I have sensory issues.  When it comes to touching me, I need a not too firm but a not too soft sort of thing.  Think of a perfect handshake.  You can feel it, but it’s not a limp fish and it’s not a death grip.  I sort of need that when it comes to hugs or any sort of physical contact.  There’s a very tiny window of acceptable pressure.

If something is too hard, I get all panicky because, you know, PTSD.  I freak out and want to run away or shut down.  Normally, I just end up shutting down.  If something is too soft, I get squeamish.  It gets harder for me to pinpoint exactly what is going on if the touch is too soft. That also bothers me.

I have to have warning before physical contact.  It gives me time to prepare myself mentally, emotionally, and physically.  I need to be asked permission.  This is my body and I’m allowed to say who can or cannot touch me.  It’s called body autonomy and there’s nothing wrong with saying that I don’t like being touched because it’s a boundary.

Honestly, sometimes I feel like I just want a hug.  However, I don’t like the way most people hug me.  Like I said, I have that tiny window of pressure that’s acceptable to me.  Furthermore, I only have a tiny list of people that would be okay to hug me.  Kuma-chan is one, Charon might be another.  My cat is one, but since she’s not a human I don’t think she really counts.  Mama Bear might be another one.  Maybe Cthulhu Bait.

When I go long periods of time without getting physical contact, whether or not I want to be touched, I start to feel disconnected from the world around me.  I withdraw more emotionally and mentally.  When I do get touched, I freak out a bit more than I otherwise would have.  It’s a little silly, in my opinion.  I know I can’t have it both ways, but it sort of feels like there should be some sort of happy median that I can achieve.

Today’s rant was a short one.  I’m really tired.  I also need a hug.

-The Sarcastic Autist


5 thoughts on “Touch

  1. *sends air hug* me am very much same. Me only likes be if me am comfy with person and knows of it. Even mine best friend had to ask before can hug me so me PTSD reflex or sensory issues makes me hit him (not on purpose). Me learn the most time Me can handle be touched if when me am sleepy. That’s the only time Me will lay my head on my friend lap or give a hug not just pat the shoulder.

    Liked by 1 person

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