Sometimes I just Don't Want to Be Touched

I'm having a hard time right now.

OK let me back up a bit first.  I have the gift of being able to read people's energy, or a better understood description of this is the gift of discernment.  I can read people's energy when they walk in a room.  I can tell how they are feeling, and often times I can actually feel it.  Empathy seemingly arises within me out of no where.  It's awesome actually.

Most of the time it's a blessing for it helps me understand others and their needs.  Less guessing.  But sometimes it sends me into throws of fear and isolation.

You see, I can tell when my husband is having a hard time with his addiction.  It seems to reek off his skin.  His energy changes and his behavior changes.  As of late, he has his hands all over me, seemingly ALL the time.  He can't sit next to me or stand next to me without his hands on me.  Not only are his hands on me but they seem to always want to be under my clothes (not groping body parts necessarily) relentlessly searching for bare skin.  I can't stand to be around him when he is like this.

He told me once that he feels it's my duty as his wife to allow him to touch me.  I don't agree with this at all.  When things are going well, and we are both working our programs and close to the Spirit, I'm much more willing, accepting and inviting of being close with him.  But when he is focusing on his own wants it causes me to recoil.

This stems from deeper things too.  I don't trust him at all really around me when he gets like this.  He has gone pretty far in the past - so far in fact that I sought out rape crisis help.  So when he gets like this, I emotionally curl up in a fetal position and just want the wind to blow me away.

I snapped at him tonight.  I let him touch me (just have his hand on me: my leg, my arm, my back) for quite a while hoping he would get his fix and I could spend the rest of the night touch free... but of course the fix is never enough is it?  I finally picked up his hand from my arm (again) and moved it over to his side of the bed.  He defiantly responded "How come you don't want me to touch you anymore?" in which I responded "How come you always have to?"  He rolled over and went to sleep.  Part of my heart ached at my words but the relief outweighed the guilt.

Yes - I recognize a total lack of communication here... I haven't exactly been forthcoming with my thoughts about him or my own feelings.  I keep hoping upon hoping that he'll finally just "get it."

:::: sigh ::::

I hate this.