A word to describe what I feel like when I hug the cows: anchoring.

If I try to expound further I’m going to start getting into the entire discomfort of touch where my family is involved, and how to this day I cannot be touched near or hugged around the neck without reacting as though someone is going to strangle me.

This is probably odd to people, because if they ever meet me and I know them, I usually will hug. But I don’t react well to people initiating the hugging.

I have huge problems with intimacy, because the only time I remember having to bear someone’s hot, sweaty, naked chest against my body is when I was trying to block my father from killing my mother. Repeatedly. Over years. Starting from when I was five.

Intimate relationships are problematic in so many ways for me.

Anyways, here are the cows getting ready to fly to Moo Moo Land.