Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. Obviously it started out as a blog about my cross-dressing but it has developed a great deal since then. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the New Readers' Page above this and the tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Sunday, 18 October 2020

That wasn't the End

 We bimbled along, as we always do, Tilly did not look into Universal Credit. She cried, we hugged, she said she'd try. She hoped we'd get physical.

Then there was the Lockdown. I volunteered at work, did the shopping, was the contact with the outside world. Came home each time to more and more fractious family life. But we did it. We work well in a crisis, and despite everything things were looking up by April. By May and June I dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, Tilly was trying and that she would love me as I still did her.

Summer. She went to her parents, I did not. We all went to see my mother. My mother pointed out that Tilly did not spend any time with me the entire time we were there. But she did, just with the children in tow. See, I wanted to believe.

I stopped chastity at the end of August, rash was devleoping, seemed a good time to pause. Tilly hadn't even noticed. Of course she hadn't, why would she?

I went back to work - we're fully open at school - and it went well at first. Then, at the end of September, I came home to the usual torrent of information and a couple of insults. They were new. I argued back. She went mental. You know the score by now, you could probably sing along. But, this time, I was bored of the bullshit.

The bimbling was done. I looked at rental places. Tilly actually looked up Universal Credit. That was just over three weeks ago. I might have a house to buy if everything goes according to plan. I think I have a place to rent in the meantime. In two weeks I should have moved out. By February I should own my own house. It's happening.

February 2020 wasn't the end. It should have been.

October 2018 wasn't the end. It should have been.

December 2017 wasn't the end. It should have been.

August 2016 wasn't the end. It should have been.

July 2015 wasn't the end. It should have been.

January 2014 wasn't the end. It should have been.

March 2013 wasn't the end. It should have been.

December 2011 wasn't the end. It should have been.

August 2009 wasn't the end. It should have been.

May 2007 wasn't the end. It should have been.

December 2006 wasn't the end. It should have been.

But October 2020? It is the end. 14 wasted years. 3 children. 2 houses. 4 jobs. All for naught. A waste. I hope my children can forgive me for that wasted time. They are pretty chipper, given what's happening, keen to help me move into a new place, keen to visit. Sad that I am going. Youngest is the most emotional, in that he cannot really cope with it and just gets angry when he is confronted with the fact that I am going. He's fine with the theory, poor with the practice. I've done a lot of crying in the car.

Tilly had the happiest birthday she's had in... well, probably since I've known her. No, that's unfair. Her birthday in 2006 was happy for her. Maybe 2007 and 2009 too. 2011 was a good one, but not as happy as 2006, and I know that she had a good one in 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018 and 2019 - the latter three because she went out with friends while I babysat. Heh, in 2016 we watched a film together at the cinema. One of only two times we've been out without children since we moved in 2013. But... yes, this birthday ranks up there with the 2006 one.

She's taking the children down to see her parents over half term. Well, I'm driving them down and back, but staying in the house. Because... they have more fun when I'm not there. So many holidays without me, it's hardly a big deal. Now she can have more and not feel guilty.

Saturday, 8 February 2020

This is the End

Talked to Tilly over the last two days. I don't want to admit it but I think we're properly approaching the end. It's all the ASD. Tilly can't cope with it, and never has been able to. We're going to try and plan for an end, properly, over the weekend.

I feel awful. It confirms my suspicions long held that I am not romantically loveable. And that Tilly was only in this to have children.

She even said that she assumed we'd have a third child when she was 40. I pointed out that I would still have opposed and she said that she would have thought we'd have grown and so it wouldn't matter.

Basically, confirmation that my views have never been a part of her planning.

She's looking into Universal Credit to see if that can offset enough for me to rent something that the kids can visit me in. But right now she's out getting a parcel. The conversation has been amicable thus far, but upsetting.

Full disclosure, I started chastity again on Sunday. I don't know why. It just felt, physically, like my genitals needed to be in my device. I can't explain it, and it has been welcome.

Work has been hard. Very much so. Incredible pressure, just about weathered, and ongoing. Hence lack of record keeping.

And, for now, this is the end.

Sunday, 12 January 2020

New Year Listings

It's 2020!

In my youth I assumed we'd have hover cars and they would float four inches off the ground. (Why four inches? Why not?) Beyond that, I kinda knew I would turn 40.

So, what of the year ahead? I don't have resolutions so much, as is normal, but I am attempting to take positive control. Re-reading my early entries on this blog brought two affirmations:
1. I am remarkably consistent in my aims and what I am attempting to do.
2. I was a bit of a thief early on?

Also, I have some deleted entries that I think I shall be adding back in, with commentary from my new perspective some eight years on, which will be interesting for me. Maybe not for everyone else.

So, resolutions:
1. I shall have a viable exit strategy by July. I need to check if I can draw down on my mortgage enough to buy a property. There are a couple of three-bedroomed properties up for about £75k, for example, which would be cheaper than renting. Madness, I know. That would allow me to have the children, viable! Huh.
2. I'll break my 130 days in chastity record. Maybe not contiguously. But I shall try. Not looking good at the moment, but selfish enjoyment ahoy!
3. I shall actually keep up with my marking this year.

That seems like quite enough to be getting on with right now. I also know I need to actually start looking into the dating game, see if I can actually, well, be honest about myself and whether that will bear fruit. In short, is it viable to be me and have the hope of a fulfilling relationship? Eh, the most important point here is to get a place where the children can stop over and where I can, well, have some space to be me. Not doing the pots every morning (well, not as many certainly) and having less shopping to do will free up a huge amount of time and space. Hell, not living in as cluttered a space will be significantly helpful. It would be like those weeks in September 2013 all over again. I could actually look forward to that, you know.

Saturday, 11 January 2020

Try It

Not the first time I've used this title.

Odd week. Following the discussion on Wednesday and watching the Witcher I replayed a lot of what was said in my head - and on the Thursday evening I was wondering about the fact that Tilly said she didn't want to spend time together, that the hour of discussion she had been recommended by her therapist had been replaced with watching a TV show that she had explicitly said ahead of time she didn't want to discuss and analyse. Also the "of course" thing was weighing on me. In the midst of this, Stanislav, his mother died over Christmas, was in work. It was... hard. He got all high-handed and started to boss me about, which was... odd. I mean, I couldn't say anything, mother died etc, but it was irksome and, well, a bit rude. So, a hard day keeping my feelings in and trying to just weather it whilst being supportive and so forth. It's... quite hard.

Home. Tilly complains that I am being down and not smiling and happy. She snaps "I should have known that it would take more than one nice evening to make you less unhappy." Well, firstly, obviously. And, secondly, whenever I have assumed that we have turned a corner or had a nice time I am usually confronted with "it'll take more than one nice evening to make a difference!" So... I guess? Anyway, it was a frustrating evening. Why? The eldest had had a bit of a time of it - friendship issues - and Tilly explained to me how she had told her that everything was fine, but, privately, she knew it was down to the ASD and our daughter would have to mask better if she wanted to behave like others. But, again, that was doomed to fail and maybe she wouldn't actually have friends in the future. However, maybe she could be trained to be a bit less obviously ASD and that might allow her to have a few non-ASD friends. Hopefully this is obvious as to why I found it frustrating and difficult.

I spoke to the eldest, assured her that she had more friends than I did at her age (she does) and reminded her that the most important thing is being herself. She will make few, but deep, friendships. She will adapt, slowly, in ways that she wants to. And, when she does make changes, they will stick. NTs, I reminded her, can't do that as well as we can. Don't try and be like everyone else, they don't know what they're doing any more than you do, so just be you and, eventually, some people will appreciate that - they are your friends and they will stick around for life. The eldest seemed comforted, it was a big deal for me after the week. Anyway, all this hurt a bit. I had told Tilly that some ASD people managed to mask long enough to start a relationship and then fuck it up later. Tilly didn't really know how to respond and suggested that it was the wrong thing for me to have said - she needed to be reassured about our daughter, it wasn't about me. Anyway, that was before the snapping that I started with and likely the cause of it. Whatever. Eventually Tilly went to bed and I had some time alone. Then I went to bed late.

Friday happened. I revealed my plans to divorce to someone at work by accident. I suck at keeping things in. That book I ordered? I read it on Monday. How do I get somewhere where the children can stop over when visiting? Most of my free head-space on Friday was thinking that over. Once home, I raised the comment by Tilly to Tilly. She accepted that it was "an unhelpful thing to say" and that she was just frustrated that she couldn't seem to make things better. Hmm. Okay. I'm not buying that this time. She asked if I wanted to try her wine, the Christmas present I paid for that she has mostly had with friends before Christmas, and I agreed. We had a brief analysis of the Witcher which started abruptly and ended just as abruptly without warning. Nothing more of substance was said. She did some work and, when I went to bed, she was writing the shopping list in the dark. She briefly chatted about hard it was to write in the dark and how I might not be able to read the list in the morning. She then informed me that the eldest would have to get up early, when she would have to set her alarm, how long the youngest had been awake, how she preferred another wine from the crate, how many words she had to write before her deadlines (which were all given in detail) and whether or not her business partner would be able to do what she needed to do as well. Then she put down the shopping list and moved as far as possible in the bed from me. I did nothing more than make the 'right' noises when asked.

Today I dealt with the eldest again, last night I had been woken at 3am by a discussion between Tilly and the eldest regarding data use on the eldest's phone. I know, I know, 3am, what the actual fuck? Anyway, I had a chat and thought I'd got to the bottom of it. Eldest went upstairs and was confronted by a newly awake Tilly, who tried to start attacking and beating down as she does with the children. The eldest voluntarily gave what she had given me, Tilly discovered another lie and got a fuller confession. Yeah, I had been congratulating myself a bit, I deserved that. Tilly did try to say I had done a good thing, but I felt like I had solved nothing and protected the eldest from none of Tilly's ire. Into the bargain, I had been lied to again. I went shopping. Middlest didn't want to go out for lunch, so I got me some noodles and ate apart from everyone else, as normal, whilst finishing shopping. Did take the middlest to Ikea to get a mattress and have tea. Came home, Tilly got ready for bed and retired to do some work. I... have failed to do any work.

In other news, I have started smacking the youngest when he claws at me and draws blood. I'm not proud of myself, but this is a place for truth. Tilly does not know. I cannot talk to her about such things and do not dare try.

I can afford the necessary furniture to have the children stop over at a place I live, but how would I afford the space? I'd need about £450pcm for a flat + bills. Not sure I can find that sort of money. I can probably get £200 by not having a car on lease. Maybe £150 if I stop paying toward the children's savings. £35 from my father saying I can stop paying off his loan to help buy the house. That's... it. There's work to be done here.

Anyway, yes, that's the latest update.

Wednesday, 8 January 2020

Of course

When Tilly told her therapist about October, offering a ten minute quickie, the therapist was aghast, of course Tilly wasn't ready for that.

But it wasn't that which led to her screaming, that was because of my mean attack when she thought everything was fine.

Also, she had no examples of me being inappropriately analytical but the fact I asked was proof that I am. But how else can I get better and improve? Real people, normal people, don't think like that! This was evidence of the problem with me. My desire for precision is part of the issue, normal people understand one another and I don't understand her. She doesn't me either, but that's to be expected.

I raised that I was worried about how much of a dick I seemed to Tilly's therapist. She replied I rarely came up but the last session was about us, so I was kind of relevant. In any case, she probably came across badly when I was having therapy.

She offered to watch the Witcher together. I could hardly refuse. We watched it. I didn't talk about it afterwards apart from to say I enjoyed it. Not did she.

Of course she wasn't ready for that in October. Of course.

Funnily enough, I've not slept well, hence I woke thinking about this at 0326 and am now typing this at 0441.

Tuesday, 7 January 2020


Tilly's therapist, who she saw tonight, told her the following:
1. We are not compatible, well, no, something about our personalities not being compatible at the moment. Tilly said this with a face that suggested it was insurmountable and probably related to divorce eventually.
2. Tilly not wanting to interact on an evening is perfectly normal for someone involved with family stuff all day. Especially with a young child. No word on the fact that she complained that I didn't first. Nor the fact that she claimed that it was my fault.
3. It sounds like me going on antidepressants is a good idea.
4. We could schedule an hour to talk. We each take half an hour and can't use "you". The other just listens, that would be a first step in starting to talk again.

Just now, a clarification, when Tilly said personalities, she meant that the relationship isn't working for either of us and it's not either of our fault, just our current personalities. I confess, I am none the wiser.

Saturday, 4 January 2020


Got a haircut yesterday. Tilly didn't notice let alone say anything. Made my own lunch. Tea was provided but only by dint of a recipe. Since Thursday it's been pretty lonely. Went to work on Friday, wasn't greeted home, hard day with the children.

Suspect that if Tilly met her friend for cake she came to the conclusion that the relationship is dead. That she should give up. Again. As usual, my own plans will be mistimed, out of sync. That's how my life goes.

Stanislav had his mother die on Boxing Day. That dominates work, as it should. Checked rents, can get a room for less than £400pcm. If I stop paying the children for savings at £150 a month I can afford that plus shopping. Just got to find a way to do the laundry and I'm there. Also, no more EV, would have to buy a second hand car outright. That could prove more troublesome. Still, can afford a separation if not a divorce.

Strangely, on Thursday, the eldest seemed to know that word and even suggested that it might be where I was going. Maybe not that strange. Tilly may be planning the same thing.