Cling Wrap

"It can be," I pause, looking for the right words, " a difficult need to articulate." 

It's one of those balmy summer evenings that make you wish you had a glass of bourbon, a Miles Davis album, and a cute boy. At present, I don't have any of those things, so I'm sitting on the front steps of my apartment building with a glass of lemonade and my cell phone. 

I can hear the smile in her voice as she says:  "You're so articulate that I never would have thought it would be difficult for  you to say "I need a hug."" 

I  shake my head, even though I know she can't see it. "It's different. It's different than just needing a hug or sex or even someone to hold your hand while you're walking down the street." 

"How?"

"It just is."

"That's not helpful."

"I know. It's just . . ." I trail off.

"What?"

"I don't want to be needy."

***

"Girl could give Saran Wrap a lesson."

The group cackles.

We're in the midst of a not-terribly-sororial Girls Night. There's wine and good food. We've spent the majority of the evening talking about work and what we're reading, but as we've gotten farther into the wine, the hairpins have started to drop. Now we're curled up around the fire, gossiping and talking about sex and relationships.

It's a group of women I know well, who I've known and loved since our college years. And we've reached that comfortable point in a friendship where they can read the week's events on my face when I walk into a room and I can tell them just about anything.

Tonight I'm talking about how I'm worried that my desire to keep from being clingy with other people keeps me asking for the things I need and that I suspect my anxiety over, well, having anxiety and OCD prevents me from forming new relationships. Being crazy is hard enough. I don't want be rejected for being crazy.

They're comforting, as I knew they would be. They fill my wine glass and remind me of a mutual acquaintance who was ohboy crazy and (in)famously, ridiculously, cryafterbreakingupwithsomeoneshewasdatingfortwoweeks clingy. We laugh, tell a few stories, and then move on. But even in the midst of an amusing story about someone's first trip to a local, um, feminist shop, there's still a tiny voice whispering in the back of my mind.

Ms. Saran Wrap still managed to find someone. 

***

I've been looking at weighted blankets.

Yes. Those weighted blankets.

Let me back up.

Things have been incredibly busy since March. And life has been good, it's been really good. The problem is that one two separate occasions I've stumbled over the line from "exhausted and in need of some time to myself" to "overstimulated to the point of a meltdown."

I hate that point.

The issue is that most of the time I know how to deal with feeling a little frazzled. I am perfectly equipped to take care of myself. I've been doing it for most of my life. Unfortunately, when I hit the overstimulated phase, all my self-reliance goes out the window. When I get to that point what I want, what I need isn't to be alone. It's isn't a cup of tea or silence or to space out in front of a video game or the television or any of the things that I normally need when I'm short on introvert time.

I need someone to hold me.

Ugh. Trust me, I realize how stupid, how needy it sounds. I'm looking for the hole under my chair to crawl into.

I am, as I've already written, complete and utter shit when it comes to real intimacy, real vulnerability with new people. As a result, it happens to be something with which I am obsessed. It's uncomfortable to admit, but when I'm in the process of having a meltdown the only thing I want is to have someone wrap their arms around me and just sit with me until I calm down. I wish I could explain how soothing it is to feel someone's hand on my hair and hear their heartbeat and breathing when I'm upset.

It's better than Xanax.

But it's a need that's hard enough to write about, it's harder to express out loud, and (outside of dating) it's impossible to get someone on speed dial to come over for overstimulated snuggles. It's something I literally don't know how to ask for, and can't decide if I'm willing to learn how to ask for it. Or if it's even an appropriate thing to ask for. Because in the process of asking Hey, can you come over and snuggle me until I fall asleep? I'd also have to say Hey, I need you. 

So I'm looking for a weighted blanket.