Touch Me, I'm Sick

“[A] vulnerable and ambitious essay collection about illness . . . [E]ye-opening.”
—Publishers Weekly

“This book forces readers to look inward at their own intentions and daily manifestations in a world that increasingly promotes carelessness and indifference toward queer culture. This is a fantastic, introspective, thought-provoking collection.”
—Bay Area Reporter

“Tenderly written and courageously conceived, Margeaux Feldman’s Touch Me, I’m Sick is a collection of essays that speaks deeply to readers on the levels of heart, head, and soul. Readers yearning for a vision of social justice that holds complexity and nuance are sure to find refuge in Feldman’s care-filled words. This book is medicine.”
—Kai Cheng Thom, author of I Hope We Choose Love: A Trans Girl’s Notes from the End of the World

“In Touch Me, I’m Sick, Margeaux Feldman explores cultural responses to trauma and illness through a brilliant tapestry of research, criticism, and narrative. At once impressively rigorous and deeply personal, Feldman’s gorgeous debut is a love letter and a guide toward radical care, healing, and belonging.”
—Raechel Anne Jolie, author of Rust Belt Femme

“For every nonbinary babe and girl who ever felt too much, too unwell, too easily slotted into the role of the hysterical femme, let Touch Me, I’m Sick be your queer feminist guidebook and middle finger to Freud and all the bad patriarchs of Western psychology. Margeaux Feldman gives us a manual for accepting the messiest parts of ourselves, however imperfect, excessive, and perpetually worthy of love.”
—Muriel Leung, author of How to Fall in Love in a Time of Unnameable Disaster

“What might happen if we ‘moved toward the call of touch me, I’m sick’? Margeaux Feldman asks. My answer: a revolution in how we approach healing from trauma. May this book find all its readers: the queer, the sick, the healers, and everyone in need of healing.”
—Wendy C. Ortiz, psychotherapist and author of Excavation: A Memoir

“A stunning antidote to the goofy wellness industry and its ever-shifting but unattainable purity-based health protocols, Touch Me, I’m Sick is an urgent demand for sickness selfies, ugly sex, and an intimacy undiminished—maybe even bolstered—by illness. An achievement.”
—Anne Elizabeth Moore, author of Body Horror: Capitalism, Fear, Misogyny, Jokes