Touched Out
When I first heard the term "touched out" I thought it was total bullshit. I figured that even if it wasn't bullshit, it would never ever happen to me.
"Touched out" is something that happens to moms after a long day of being pawed by little ones and they just can't stand to be touched anymore. I love to be touched. I revel in human contact. I love hugs, smooches, pats, rubs...bring it on! Since I have made it 5 years without stretching me passed my tactile limit I thought I would be safe from this phenomenon.
HA!
The touching has intensified and gotten so desperate that I don't want to be anywhere near it. By the end of the day I feel so irritable I can't let anyone within 3 feet of me. Don't even THINK about touching me or I'll rip your fucking arm off!
It probably isn't the touch in and of itself, but the lack of regard that makes me so cranky. I get pulled, yanked, poked, tickled, snuggled, and twiddled. The touch lacks finesse and any rubbin' is most definitely NOT good rubbin'. It's so bad that I can't even accept good touch after a while. Which is a bit of a tragedy. I remember begging my mom for hugs as a little kid and she just couldn't give them. AW c'mon, Mom, a hug would feel so good right now, wouldn't it?
No. It really wouldn't.
"Touched out" is something that happens to moms after a long day of being pawed by little ones and they just can't stand to be touched anymore. I love to be touched. I revel in human contact. I love hugs, smooches, pats, rubs...bring it on! Since I have made it 5 years without stretching me passed my tactile limit I thought I would be safe from this phenomenon.
HA!
The touching has intensified and gotten so desperate that I don't want to be anywhere near it. By the end of the day I feel so irritable I can't let anyone within 3 feet of me. Don't even THINK about touching me or I'll rip your fucking arm off!
It probably isn't the touch in and of itself, but the lack of regard that makes me so cranky. I get pulled, yanked, poked, tickled, snuggled, and twiddled. The touch lacks finesse and any rubbin' is most definitely NOT good rubbin'. It's so bad that I can't even accept good touch after a while. Which is a bit of a tragedy. I remember begging my mom for hugs as a little kid and she just couldn't give them. AW c'mon, Mom, a hug would feel so good right now, wouldn't it?
No. It really wouldn't.
posted by Bree O'Connor at 9:06 AM
2 Comments:
Sounds like a growing boy. His fun playfulness when he was smaller now becomes more like rambunctiousness "lacking finesse." As his bones and muscles grow he'll try to figure out more and more how his body now fits into a world where his most everything else retains its size and touch tolerance. If he's anything like me, that is.
That's perspective, which is hard to come by some days.
Perhaps a girl would have been easier for me, in some ways. At least I would have an inkling how her brain worked. I love, love, love boys but I can't say as I have a handle on them. I truly think they are much needier and more vulnerable than they would or could ever let on. Maybe that's why I think they're so beautiful.
Of course, I could still use a little break from the grabby grabby, if ya know what I mean.
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