I have always been a very tactile person, and when Tim died I missed his touch so much. I used to get up before he did and start work, and then come back to bed for a cup of tea and a cuddle. There were the little touches too – walking hand in hand. My hand on his knee when we sat together in the pub. A hug and a kiss before I went out. After he died and the paramedics left, I lay on the floor with him, my head tucked into his neck.
My friends and family are good at hugs, and that helped. As did haircuts and massages (the local college ran a beauty course and the trainees did brilliant full body, deep muscle massages) but it wasn’t the same. And then we went into lockdown, and I understood what skin hunger (also known as touch starvation or touch deprivation) really meant. After lockdown, when I went back to my Pilates class, my tutor put her hand on me to adjust my position and I almost cried. Touch is really important – newborn babies are comforted by skin-to-skin contact with their parents or carers, and kangaroo care is especially important for low-birthweight or premature babies. There is science behind skin hunger – touch triggers the release of the feel-good hormone oxytocin, and stimulates pressure sensors that send signals to the vagus nerve, calming the nervous system. Stress triggered by lack of touch releases cortisol which can increase your heart rate and blood pressure. What can help (and I know it's not the same)
0 Comments
|
AuthorI was widowed at 50 when Tim, who I expected would be my happy-ever-after following a marriage break-up, died suddenly from heart failure linked to his type 2 diabetes. Though we'd known each other since our early 20s, we'd been married less than ten years. Archives
October 2024
Categories
All
|