The Art of a Hug

I’m also a sufferer of anxiety – PTSD – and can relate to these emotions well. I know a lot of people who are “non-huggers,” many have Asperger’s Disorder and, for them, touching will stimulate them and drive them crazy. I believe that sensitivity to where people are, especially children, is crucial. You destroy their sense of self, their souls when you violate their boundaries.

Flash-365

hugs

Clench your fist, hard. Clench it and hold it until it is red and your palm is sweaty, your knuckles are white, your whole hand shaking; swallow that fist.

That is how anxiety feels to me.

I’ve spent a lot of time lately around people you might call huggers; huggers are people who put their arms around you–sometimes your waist, sometimes shoulders; it varies by height. They put their arms around you and they try to squeeze some emotion out of you. It started about a week ago at a summer camp I’ve been working at.

The horde of potential huggers had been doing one activity or another. It ends, they all stand up.

“So, what are we doing now?” I ask the camp leader beside me.

“Hugs” she says.

“what?”

“Hugs, you know,” she hugs me, around the arms. I don’t move. “Hugs,” she repeats.

“Oh…”

“Don’t you like…

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