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!

Monday, 19 December 2011

My addiction and my life

This is a theme that I may return to, but I'm not sure.  The purpose of this record has changed and continues to take on more and more aspects that I wasn't expecting, but the fundamentals remain, I suppose.  One of the things that I often wonder about the most is why.  Why do I find such happiness, such freedom and liberation, in wearing clothes that were primarily designed for women?

Not sure about the earrings
but seriously, who wouldn't
be confident dressed like
that?
Back in July I was having a pretty bad time of things at work and, if I'm honest, it was all getting a bit on top of me.  I wasn't coping with things well, I was rather depressed, very stressed out but also keen to move on and do better.  I had recently gained a new part to my role at work and was very happy about that but stressed that it wouldn't turn out as I wanted it to.  I mean, it was the sort of thing that I'd been helping out with for a very long time but now it was officially my responsibility and so it became frightening, like I might drop the ball at any moment and now it would matter.  That, I think, is the root cause of most of my stress and issues: the feeling that once something becomes expected of me I am more likely to mess it all up.

In an effort to stop myself focussing on the negative and, instead, to focus on making the changes I wanted to make now that I was officially in charge of this new role I decided on an experiment.  The first day I was a hive of activity, I've not worked at that rate for a very long time!  I spent the day networking, preparing and otherwise making my presence felt in a way that I haven't done since I started in this job - and by 'this job' I mean since the beginning, not since I've been working at where I am this time round (long story, basically, I worked harder and more effectively than I have for at least seven years).  However, the come-down from all that activity was massive and the evening became difficult.  I was tired.

It was actually my first Relentless, possibly
my first energy drink, but I can't vouch for that.
The next morning I decided to use an energy drink.  Now, I don't usually drink energy drinks and my usual liquid intake is fairly minimal.  I've taken to skipping breakfast due to the stress of last year and this was no exception, I didn't have a breakfast and that was not unusual.  Furthermore, I don't drink hot drinks, for some reason, and I'm not that partial to cola or anything like that.  This means that caffeinated drinks have a singular effect on me and can keep me buzzing for most of the day.  True enough, the energy drink allowed me another day of phenomenal work-rate and gifted me some confidence to deal with some of the obstacles that had been thrown up the previous day.  However, once again there was the massive come-down in the evening, thankfully after the children were asleep, but it was clear that I could not maintain this level of work by the methods being employed.

Here they are again, amazing how much mileage I get out of
these, I bought them for a fiver on eBay way back in 2005.
The third morning I tried something different: I wore my favourite knickers.  It worked.  I wasn't really sure what I was expecting and being cross-dressed at work, even something as private as knickers, was something that I've resisted since first starting in 2004.  The effect was, well, for lack of a better term, electric.  Once again I had the energy, granted not as much as the previous two days, but, most importantly, I had the confidence to deal with people.  I stopped fretting about how I would come across and whether or not I was being 'nice' enough and, instead, just got on with things.  It meant that, by the end of the day, I had organised pretty much all of the global concerns I had with the new post and begun to plan for the beginning of my new era.  And, the main difference, there wasn't the same massive come-down at the end of it all.  By the end of the day I still felt confident and happy, okay, I was also considerably more tired than I had been on the evenings of the previous two days but I put that down to the artificial effects that I had used.

There was only one fly in the ointment.  I hadn't told my wife, and that made me feel pretty guilty.  It also meant that I didn't wear the knickers again the following day, or the next.  I felt that I wasn't being totally honest with Tilly and it was something that I felt needed to be shared.  It was something that I believed was necessary.  I should point out that we hadn't had sex since our son was conceived and, before then, since our daughter was conceived.  This had included our wedding night.  Okay, there's more there, but this is not the time.  We had discussed things and come to the conclusion that she wanted to be 'wooed', she wanted some emotional connection - something I was eager to supply.  One of my complaints about the week where our son was conceived was that the sex was, well, sex.  It wasn't that loving, it was almost purely physical, and I wanted more emotional content too.  Part of that, to me, appeared to be honesty.  I couldn't so very well 'woo' my wife if I were keeping something this momentous and important from her.

After about a week of wrestling with it, I told my wife.  We had had a number of conversations throughout the summer regarding my depression and my struggle to cope at work and the cross-dressing had come up a number of times.  We had discussed it in some depth, focussing on my motivations and the feelings and I honestly believed that she and I were getting to the point where we could make a breakthrough.  I wasn't so sure about whether or not it was an aspect of myself that I wanted to keep around, given how much antipathy she had for it, and so this event seemed worthy of discussion.

I was stroking her hair, something she likes a lot, when I brought it up.  She clammed up and shut up.  It was frosty.  Her mother was over that week and, well, we just didn't talk.  At all.  I broached this silence once, but got short shrift.  Of course, appearances were maintained and in front of the children it was business as usual.  When it was just us, she would find something else to do or go to bed.  Where she would fall asleep.

It was a week after her mother left that I broached it again.  It was then that we had the arguments, when she told me that it was all very seedy, when she got even more angry and upset because I couldn't understand why she was so angry and upset about everything.  And, as I've said, I still can't.  She wanted me to stop it all, wanted it all to end, wanted the cross-dressing over.  She said that it was fine to discuss things when it was something that was in the past, but when it was the present, when it was actually going on, she just couldn't think straight about it.  She told me that if I felt shame and guilt then it was probably something worth feeling shame and guilt over, something that was dark and private was probably dark and private for a reason.  I genuinely worried for our relationship.  I went to a therapist, I started therapy, and I explained that I wanted the cross-dressing to stop.  My therapist's reaction was similar to my wife's, though more muted.

I saw my vicar.  Surprisingly he was more supportive.

That was the beginning of the present journey.

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