Log: Apr 13 (Mon)

Apr 13 (Mon): Work 10:00a – 6:00p, Chores Meditation 7p-9p @Meditation Center

Sunset from last night

Sunset from last night

This morning, “Peter” and I had no ingredients to make breakfast so we got prepped for work and then ate out for breakfast. I had gotten up on time and showered quickly, amazingly. That’s how I know without doubt that I’m still in the infatuation stage — I’m still jumping out of bed in the morning when with him. I’m motivated. I don’t look forward to when that bubble pops.

Anyway, so I made it to work by 10a, and I actually managed to resolve a big issue I’d been working on for a while now. I finally found a contact in another state who was able to tell which coordinate system the points had been plotted using, and discovered my coordinates were missing a digit. That’s why I couldn’t figure out what coordinate system I had in front of me. There is no possible way I could have figured it out on my own. The last digits of the Easting were all cut off! One of my coworkers was able to locate a map that had the rest of the digits on it, so tomorrow I’ll be able to convert them all from that coordinate system to UTM. Before a week or two ago, I didn’t even know that different coordinate systems existed. WhyTF are there so damn bloody many different coordinate systems being used, anyway?! That makes no sense. Pick a couple and stick with ’em, eh?!

Anyway. So I was tired for work, and my intestines were still upset from the dairy last night, but I was halfway productive, so that’s good. I stayed a bit later than I’d meant to — I try to leave by a certain time so I’m not biking home home in the dusk. I passed by the Meditation Center just before the time when it starts, so I looked all around for a safe-feeling place to lock up my bicycle but found none. So I carried my bike up anyway and rested it outside for a minute while I went in to say hi to my friend, Shelly. I haven’t seen her in a little while. It turned out to be her birthday! The teacher happened to be standing nearby as I explained why I was going to leave, and he told me that it would be fine to bring my bicycle in with me!!

So I joined tonight’s Meditation group after all. I am so glad that I did. It was difficult at times. We were told we’d sit in silence for 40 minutes but that he would say the Koan sometime in there. So I had no direction for my mind at the beginning. Then the Koan was given to us but I didn’t like it. It went something like this:

Two friends are out walking. One friend says to the other, “How do you express the Truth without using words and without using silence?” The friend replies, “I remember the kind of September when the days were slow and oh so mellow.”

This is a heavily translated version of a very old Koan. He removed the Chinese popular culture reference and inserted song lyrics from a musical. I won’t take the time to explain all of the reasons, but it was interesting. Anyway. I didn’t like this Koan. I didn’t know it was a pop culture reference at the time.

Then the setting sun happened to shine a single sunbeam right toward my left hand, so I turned my arm so that it was lighting up the palm of my hand until it eventually dimmed and disappeared. The orangey glow actually helped me to connect with the Koan and think about things differently. I won’t go into all of the inner processes; with the Koan, I am not always sure I like hearing about how other people experienced it. It is always so different than what I experienced.

The Teacher’s talk afterward was mind-blowing for me. He talked about memory and memories and present moment experience and how we view the world. You’d have had to have been there. It was pretty trippy. He presented the thought that we are never really experiencing the present moment. Everything we cognitively experience is a memory. By the time we know what we have seen, the eyes have already seen it.

For example, let’s use the time I burned my hand on a skillet at “Peter’s” apartment and instantly moved my hand away from the heat, and thus managed to throw the egg a short way across the kitchen floor. The hand moving away from the heat is the present moment response but we’re not cognitively in control of that. By the time I realized the pain and realized the raw egg on the floor and my empty hand, it was already a memory. Every single thing we recognize having seen or heard, felt (physically or emotionally), smelled, etc, is a memory. We can have a sensation and respond physically or emotionally to the stimulus without realizing it, and that’s the present moment. But by the time we recognize what’s going on, it’s a memory.

He made a reference to an old idea of there being 17 moments of memories in a single snap of the fingers.

We discussed more than just that. There was a lot of significance placed on the positives of memory and how it forms our responses in the present times, and more things. But alas, I am tired and it’s very late and I have to get up early tomorrow. AFTERward, I talked with Shelly for a while outside of the building, and then I biked home and ate some canned salmon with lettuce and some lemon juice. That’s all and I’m not hungry.

OH! I had eaten a lot of caramel cashews at the Meditation center!! Shelly had brought a ton of them in for her birthday. She’d made them herself and used coconut milk instead of sweetened condensed milk, and so I was able to eat them! They were so good. I had a ton. No wonder a small dinner was satisfactory. Anyway. Then I didn’t feel comfortable vacuuming because my uncle was watching a movie upstairs and my aunt was talking on the phone long-distance downstairs. So I sat on the couch and watched the rest of the movie with my uncle. I hadn’t done that in a very long time (although partly because he had been getting upset with me whenever I hung in front of a TV screen). Today’s Mood Ranking: 5-6

The first poem I ever wrote & hiding in the woods

In early elementary school, we were learning about analogies and such in class. Our assignment was to write what people were “like”. Mine made my mom cry her eyes out, although I didn’t learn that for years. She said it was 100% accurate:

My mom is like the ocean, sometimes stormy and sometimes calm.
My brother is like a teapot, always huffing and puffing and letting off steam.
My dad is like a twig in the river, always going with the flow.
And I am like a deer lost in the forest, who must learn to take care of myself.

There’s a lot I want to say about the last line, but I keep deleting what I write. So I’ll just say that without question, this is how I felt for all of childhood. Anything else I want to say will be for a different day.

Ruby Tiger Moth

Ruby Tiger Moth


EDIT: I was thinking about this poem because of a conversation on blahpolar’s page, which had me thinking about the few people who keep encouraging me to go off of my meds, and how much I’ve argued for staying on my meds (when really, of course I want off of them, but). And it had me thinking that I’ve been depressed for far more of my life than non-depressed. I wasn’t terribly depressed in elementary school, but I was definitely melancholy/sad. The woods and the rain and the caterpillars were my friends. I had built a fort in the woods near my house, and would hide there.

My proudest times were when unsuspecting walkers would walk the trail past me and never know I was there. The most anxious was when their loose dogs would always sniff me out, and sometimes get the people’s attention. At the same time, I liked the visiting dogs. They knew, you know.

Later, my path to the hiding spot became too worn, because these two particular neighbor dogs kept visiting me and they always came up the same way. I would walk around and around in the woods to try and get them used to a different path and throw “people” off, but no. I couldn’t hide there then, because it felt too exposed due to the dogs’ path.

I spent a lot of time there. I know I sometimes wrote sad poems out there. I don’t really remember what else I did. Probably I day dreamed most of the time. That’s what I did most of my childhood anyway, was daydream.

I day dreamed so deeply that people could be talking directly to me and I’d be completely unaware. They could say my name and everything and I would still be lost somewhere in my head.

The book I most identify with is “House of Stairs” by William Sleator (not the plot itself, just a particular character was Was Me Back Then). I hadn’t read the book until middle school, but I knew immediately. If you read that, you’ll know exactly where I was mentally and ashamedly, even what my daydreams were about. I made my high school counselor read that. I don’t think she understood. On the other hand, she kept asking me if I’d had any childhood abuse and I kept saying no, because at the time, I didn’t know it was considered abuse. But I still don’t think she understood the point I was trying to make about my character in that book.

This is so horrible to admit, because my parents are so full of love and they’re great, but yet I was quite sad as a child– that’s how I’ll excuse this: But I used to fog up my window in the back seat and write “help me” signs to the other cars. Sometimes I would press my palm up by the words. Nobody ever responded. At some point, I realized my words would be backwards for the other people, but writing backwards got no response, either. Just as well.

Actually, I spent a ton of time hiding under my bed and also behind a particular couch. No more details.

Roller coaster day (Journal#054)

I cannot tell you how close I was to cutting tonight. I actually spent a while here writing a post about it, but in the end, I just couldn’t press “publish” because I admitted such embarrassing things.

I’m hiding the rest behind a “read more” button: Continue reading

Not my most “up” day, perhaps. (Journal#052)

I cracked open my laptop tonight to see if writing a post would help me feel better. I may have had an anxiety attack a little bit ago. I’m not sure. Tears were involved. I’m actually not much of a cryer so it’s always a big deal to me when I cry. It means something is off, either my blood sugar, menstruation, or a bit of an anxiety attack.

So here goes my exploration. First of all, Saturday. Saturday, I did what I’d intended to do. I rested. I napped. I rested some more. I think I did chores that evening. Sunday, I spent most of it with “Joe”. We watched tons more episodes of Star Trek TNG and we went on a walk. I’ll admit to you guys that we may have snuggled on the sofa while watching. All G-rated, but his arms were definitely around me and my head was resting on his chest and I didn’t want to ever move again. Ever. Complete. Bliss. If I could freeze those moments in time and just let the rest of my life play out like that, I would. Nothing more and nothing less.

This might sound positive but it is not. I don’t know if I’ll be able to put to words. something extremely important and desperate. something that does not deserve to live in me but it is there and will rear its head whenever and however it damn well pleases.

Desperation.

Desperation. Forgive me, I may offend as I try to type this. I don’t know what I’ll say or how this is going to come out.

All I can do is say PTSD. How else could I possibly describe it.

In my second year of college, I was starting my mental breakdown. It went on through the whole year, getting progressively worse the entire time.

There came a time when I consciously realized the desperation that had grown within me. At lunch, I would sit with a group of people in the cafeteria. I would sit with them. I would stare at them. I would try to memorize them and their presence with me and their company. I was desperate. I would not go for food any longer; every second spent getting food was a second not spent with them. I would begin to cry when one of them would have to leave to go back and study, attend class, etc. The loneliness.

It got to where I would begin to cry preemptively. Lunch would have just begun and I would burst into tears because I knew they would all have to leave shortly. I cannot put this into words strongly enough to convey. I would have done anything. What did I have to lose anymore by that point? I was desperate for company and did not attain it.

But also, I could not. Because even if someone tried to spend a moment with me, I was wracked with the loneliness and knowledge that they’d be leaving shortly.

THERE IS A WAY IN WHICH COMPANY WORSENS IT. It gives me that taste again. It gives me something to miss again. In many ways, it is easiest and best to be alone. Because otherwise, this neurotic part of me can rise again.

Well it did today. Tonight, I was so lonely I cried. And I wanted a hug. And I wanted company. And I don’t want to be alone right now.

The higher the high, the more painful the fall. I have had this now for over a decade. How did it subside long enough for me to date and marry? I don’t understand.

I thought, perhaps tonight I was triggered because I had just finished filling out a psychiatric history form for a psychiatrist I am finally going to see. But I did perhaps an overly-thorough job of going back all the way to the first time I was diagnosed with anything, and going forward from there, which means I did give a quick mention to that year of college and the time following.

Will this loneliness-I-would-kill-for-companionship feeling go away? Please, please let there be some way of letting this feeling die once and for all.

It’s a loop, too. It fuels itself. Because guess what keeps people away quite easily? Being neurotic. So my desperation for you, once I can no longer hide it, will be the very thing that keeps you away, fueling my desire to sacrifice any and all aspects of myself for companionship.

And, once it is in full swing, this is not something that will leave my head. I will not be able to think of anything else during the 24hr day. I mean this literally. It’s never occurred to me before now, but perhaps there is some OCD in there as well. As is, these are reasons I do not trust myself and I think I am dangerous to others (because I HAVE gone through times when I would say and do anything. Lie. Be someone different. Set aside anything Real for just one moment of time with someone). But I wonder now, if I were to consider it anymore as nothing more than an intrusive thought, maybe I could treat it as such. It feels more Real and more Tangible and more Controlling than that, but maybe, just maybe that’s all it is now. I wonder if I can think of it that way. I wish to God[] I could be normal and have normal, healthy relationships.

[[P.S. I was still in tears when I cracked open my laptop to try and explore this topic here, but before I started this post, I read all of the beautiful, so kind comments on my previous posts. ❤ ❤ I didn’t feel as lonely then. Thank you, everybody! ❤ ]]

Cannot. Sleep. (Journal#039)

It’s 5:11 a.m. and I cannot sleep. I’ve been trying since around 1 a.m. It’s ironic, because I had even set aside a really complicated sketch I was working on for the sake of sleep.

I guess I am too nervous about tomorrow. I’m flying out tomorrow, for my grandpa’s memorial.

  • I have issues with executive functioning, so packing is always an issue.
    • My mom did talk me through some of it over the phone earlier. But in truth, I only gathered some clothes so far. I couldn’t bring my mind to think about it.
  • I’m flying. Which brings up its own bag of worms (actually, I’d like a bag of worms).
    • My worst-ever panic attack occurred on an airplane.
      • It was before I had accepted any anti-anxiety medicines (STUPID!).
      • The flight attendants offered me oxygen.
    • Although before that happened, flying was my favorite thing to do and I dreamed of being a then-called stewardess, one panic attack can change all of that.
    • Now I always feel really pleased with myself if I make it through a flight without taking anxiety medicine. (Why do I torture myself with trying it?! I can go from handling it to being scared out of my pants in about 1 second flat.)
  • I’m just scared.
    • Of the change in routine, I guess.
    • Scared of the unknown.
    • Seeing people I don’t normally get to see.
    • Attending a memorial I haven’t mentally prepared for yet.
    • I never submitted any of my memories of him for the book they’re preparing. 😦
  • I’m getting up in 2 hours for a doctor appointment. I apparently decided, why make a normal appointment for half the price when I can instead wait to the last second before travel and see an urgent care doctor for extra$$$ for something that’s been bugging me for two months??!
    • Maybe after the appointment, I can finish packing and then NAP until my flight, since I’m obviously not going to get a whole lot of sleeping in between now and my appointment.

I’ve been down again lately. It feels like it’s gone on forever, but maybe I’m mistaken.

I don’t want to ever step foot back at work again. I’ve definitely got a “thing” about that place now.

My other contract is ending at the end of this month. Actually, that means my mom won’t let me nap tomorrow because she’ll insist I work on that contract… which would be the ethically correct thing to do. But I’m so scared about the fact that I can’t sleep. I didn’t do too badly on that contract, but the time period’s nearly over and there’s still like a day’s worth of work to do on it. Two days if I’m unproductive.

Please let me out of this job. I don’t want to ever go back. One of my aunts apparently told my mom that if I can make it through for another month or two, things will be all better. But OMFG WHY DO I HAVE TO MAKE IT THROUGH ONE OR TWO MORE MONTHS of it?! (2 reasons: One, the pay is better than most other jobs I could get, and two, I could opt for significantly cheaper health insurance through it)

I haven’t really written here that there’s been a helluva lot of inner turmoil at work. A helluva lot. It’s basically destroyed my home life. For the past however long it’s been, that’s what all the yelling and crap has been about – it’s all been work related. And when there wasn’t yelling, my uncle had stopped being able to talk with me or anything because he had to focus on contracts and all sorts of things he had to research. He didn’t tell me what was going on, and in fact did try to hide the yelling from me at first, but frankly when the walls shake from your voice, there’s no hiding it. That’s when I put in the earplugs and whatnot.

But I can’t take it. You’ve changed. I’m depressed. I’m scared of work, scared of the turmoil, scared of people resenting each other and doing things behind other people’s backs. Scared of the fact that one of them told several of the other employees what’s going on but I was still in the dark, as I was supposed to be (it really isn’t my business as an employee there). Sick. I’m just sick. I’m literally getting over my virus.

But I’m more than physically sick. I feel like all the light and all the hope of this life is just gone. Like I have nothing to look forward to again. Like every moment is a torment and I can’t feel rest and I can’t feel secure and I can’t feel loved. Listless and pointless.

But I’m glad I took Bailey to the dog park today. I needed the exercise (I had slept for virtually 4 days straight without a speck of exercise). But I feel so sick to my stomach right now. Bailey was very good with all of the different dogs and all of the people…except for her ability to sniff out each person who had treats. Silly food hog. It was cute, but I literally had to take her to the other side of the dog park because this really nice lady wouldn’t stop giving her treats! (Bailey has a fat-roll issue, for those wondering why that would be a problem. 😉 )

Don’t read on if you’re emetophobic or otherwise squeamish: Continue reading

Journal post, can’t sleep, lack hugs (Journal#036)

I can’t sleep because my throat is sore, and because I’m thinking of something kind of negative and it just keeps replaying in my mind. I had tried to hug my uncle goodnight tonight and he acted really uncomfortable. I’ve fucked something up somewhere along the way. I hadn’t expected it to be a big deal because he’d hugged other people earlier in the day. Where have I gone wrong? (Actually, I suspect I know.)

Oh well, you know? Got to let it go. Got to get touch from somewhere else. (I could hire someone from TaskRabbit to give me a hug every day 😉 ….I’m joking. Barely. But I am.) I might look into buying a weighted blanket, too. My skin is absolutely in agony right now and I just really need a hug. My now-ex husband used to just lay on top of me (non-sexual) when I felt this way. I just need the sensation. I need Temple Grandin’s squeeze machine. My eyes are tearing up. I don’t really know what to do for it in the meanwhile. I have three heavy blankets on me right now. I used to sleep with 7 heavy blankets on me.

I’ll go ahead and order a weighted blanket right now. I hope they’re not too expensive.

In other, yet connected, news, I have made my online account at the dating site and have gotten to chat with a couple of people so far. One of them, just by chance, has Asperger syndrome too! We chatted for freaking hours tonight. It was awesome. We totally geeked out and were talking Sci-Fi and stuff. He happens to be a huge fan of my favorite ever series, which is really rare. I’m going to keep screening him online for a while, but I have a feeling that eventually he and I will meet up and go bicycling together.

And yes, I have, in the past, accepted undesired sexual touch when that was all that was available at the time. But I’m not going to do that this time around. I’ll send out to Temple Grandin to build me a fucking squeeze machine if I must.

Okay, so I’m going to go take some pain medicine, probably half a clonazepam, and then order a weighted blanket online. Goodnight, all.

Update: Because it’s really not fair to me, and to anybody around me, to expect others to somehow fulfill my own needs, you know? It’ll ruin any platonic relationship I ever try to have at this point.

Sharing some happiness (Journal#033)

[begin boring journal post] This is just another boring journal post. But I want to document this day, too, because I’ve been in a fantastic mood all day, and those deserve their time in the spotlight.

This morning was very INTERESTING. My TaskRabbit called me up for my morning wake-up, and she couldn’t speak! She was totally hoarse from some party she was at last night. I felt so bad for her, trying so hard to talk to me, that I jumped out of bed and went straight to my dresser! Just so I could let her go and not have to talk to me. (I then decided that since I had 2.5 hours of overtime already logged for the week, I let myself lay back down for a little while, and that was fine). But still, the fact that I jumped out of bed with no trouble was very INTERESTING to me… [Soooo, I can get out of bed if it will prevent someone else’s suffering? How can I use THAT as daily motivation? 😛 ]

I’m SO FUCKING EXHAUSTED to the core, but I’m happy. I’ve done work today. I’ve even figured out something to get my aunt and uncle for Christmas, although I don’t know that they celebrate it. And it’s too expensive for me to get on my own, so I’m going to contact my brother and see if he wants to chip in too. It’s something I know they’d really appreciate (and think I’m crazy for buying it for them; it’s something they’ll have to buy some day down the road anyway because I noticed theirs is busted and is the kind of thing they’ll eventually replace).

I skipped lunch again but did snack on peanut butter and GF crackers. So I’m okay. I had a shit breakfast of sugar cereal-so-called-“granola”, and it didn’t kill me today, like it normally does. Or that is aiding to my exhaustion. Either way.

AND I just realized something about five minutes ago – one of my cousins is coming tonight!

I’ve decided that I’m going to start Internet dating again. Yesterday evening, I actually called and spoke with someone I once dated a while back. And it really cheered me up. He has a gentle voice that I could listen to forever. I normally have trouble thinking up questions to ask people, but I came up with a million to ask, if only so I could continue to listen to his voice.

Then at night, before going to bed, my uncle was watching a movie on TV, and I made decision. I walked right over and sat down beside him and rested my head on his shoulder and finished watching the movie with him that way. If I weirded him out, I don’t even care. Physical contact is the best damn anti-depressant there is on the planet for me. I hate that this culture often thinks of physical contact between non-romantic-partners as inappropriate. I can REMEMBER every time I had physical contact between the grades of 6 and 12. I can COUNT it out. That’s how damn important it is to me. It’s up there with food, water and shelter. In fact, I’d rank it higher than food and shelter for me.

I think it’s so stupid that “sex” gets ranked on the needs scale, but not platonic physical contact. I personally think it’s MUCH more of a “need”. People DO survive without sex – there are people who devote their lives that way. But without physical contact of any sort? I’d literally quit life. There would be no hope, no point, no purpose for proceeding. Maybe the shell of my body could technically survive with just the food and water and shelter, but the rest would not. The drive to eat goes away without it. The urge to seek shelter goes away without it. (Sorry, thirst stays #1 for me. 🙂 ).

(Ironically, the sugar crash just hit. I am trembling and weak, but just ate some stuff that will help.)

Again this morning, my uncle suggested I switch to working half time come this January, because I’ve been so exhausted. I probably should.

It’s not funny, but it is an “I told you so” so that’s rewarding. 😉 😉 When he was first pushing me to get a job, after I had been living with them for maybe a month or two already?, I had a HUGE meltdown. I was crying uncontrollably and couldn’t talk about it for a long time. At some point, I told him I was scared shitless of being employed again. Scared because it removes all possibility of life outside of work because I get so exhausted. I did NOT want a job, except a really, really stupid, no-brainer, no-pressure half-time job. So I had a meltdown over the prospect of work. And was so upset about it for at least a week. But then a job opportunity happened along and I couldn’t pass it up! So here I am, working full time and doing absolutely nothing else (except this blog). I haven’t even gone to meditation again because I’ve been too tired. I did text my “friend” that I met there once, though. 🙂 Mostly it was just a thank-you note for her help in encouraging me and teaching me how to take care of my insurance issues. But I had to do something to reach out. I don’t want that contact to die away. If she has any energy, I’m wondering if I could invite her over to my aunt & uncle’s place to visit with me there. They said it would be okay. I just need to get up the nerve to invite her (I have no clue if she would or not). She knits. Maybe I could invite her to a knit-night with me! I can’t remember if I brought my needles with me here or not. :-/

Anyway, yeah, I think that vitamin suggestion is great. I totally screwed up on getting the new health insurance so I’m stuck with the super freaking incredibly expensive one still for now. But the plus side is I’m sure I’ve met my deductible by now and it’s almost time for me to get my bloodwork done. So that should go smoothly. (And I won’t ask the phlebotomist to inject air into my vein this time.) Truthfully, I always hope that it’ll show my thyroid out of wack, because in my dreams, once my thyroid gets to a proper adjustment, I won’t feel tired ever again… It hasn’t happened that way a single time, but I always hope.

I eat my soup straight out of the can without warming it up (because I don’t want to dirty any dishes). I like to pretend I’m eating dog food. If only I just got cheap shit soup, I’d be really happy with myself for saving money on it, too. But I end up getting the GF, vegan soup. My favorite is lentil vegetable.

Now you know. And I’m sure you’re glad of it. 😉 [/end boring journal post]

P.S. I’m super scared about the upcoming holidays period. It’s going to be another party type dinner, I’m sure, and I failed so badly at the last one. Also, it’ll be my first time here for holidays. And then after that, I fly to my grandfather’s memorial. Someday, I want to write a post about 1) flying, 2) why I swear (I actually force myself to swear, even though it might offend some of you. There’s a reason. When I have more time, I want to write it out).

And oh my GOD I am SO SCARED because after the memorial, my dad is coming back with me. But ohmygod my dad, some of you saw the huge post I wrote about him, is mildly on the autism spectrum, more than me, and he can’t read people and he can’t filter and you know my uncle has already been poisoned toward my dad because of what my brother was saying (it’s all in that post). And my mom can’t come, so who will be there to protect him? I’m really scared for him. But I so look forward to spending time with him and getting to show him the places I go around here. But you know what I’m picturing — with the amount of alcohol potentially to be ingested by both him and my uncle, how could it possibly go well? And if politics is brought up, there will be an explosion. Not that my dad is argumentative but his has an opinion period. And my uncle has an opinion period. And they don’t differ that much but it doesn’t even matter when two people Who Have An Opinion Period start on that topic. I need to not worry ahead of time, though, you know? No sense in spending weeks worrying and THEN having something bad happen. May as well have these weeks be smooth first and THEN have the bad happen and deal with it only the once, right? 😉

(Reblog): Compassionate Physical Touch for Wellness and Mental Health

I believe positive touch is vital. [I am reblogging this beautiful post by gentlekindness]:

GentleKindness

Touch is a fundamental communication between people. It allows us to communicate compassion better that words or facial expression.

Touch is the most important element of bonding and compassion between humans. There are neurochemical effects of skin to skin touch. Compassionate touch is critical for the brain and the body to be healthy. We need human touch to be well.

We need  human touch in order to have good mental health. People who are touch deprived can develop mental illness.

People with mental illness can become worse from a lack of pleasant  physical touch. Compassionate touch reduces stress hormones, including cortisol. When someone touches your skin in a pleasant way, it makes you feel calmer and safer. Anxious feelings  of being in danger and feeling that there is a  threat can be reduced.

People deprived of pleasant physical touch  can develop high levels of stress hormones. High levels of stress…

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