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!

Thursday, 19 April 2012

Fear me

Well, it's another short update whilst my brain refuses to write Reality/Shifts or another idea.

I managed to upset my therapist.  My Therapy blu-print was, it seems, rather... too honest.  Like the time I went for a haircut, they got it wrong but it took me leaving and asking my mother to figure it out.  I went back, asked for a refund and got the stares of death, after all I had said it was alright when asked before I left (I don't deal well with conflict or potential conflict).  To try and end it, to try and make the women there feel better, I said "don't worry, I won't be coming back" and smiled as disarmingly as a gawky, under-confident 14 year old could.  It wasn't until I was about half an hour's walk away that I realised precisely what I'd said and why it wouldn't end the stare of death.  Well, my therapy blu-print thing did a similar thing with my therapist.  It explained why each method we'd tried had failed, and why I felt that CBT wasn't going to work.

I guess that muct have read like a slap in the face to the therapist whose spend since the end of August trying to work out how to help me.  I made it worse, she probed on the cross-dressing part, where I said I would continue to do it but secretly, and suggested that maybe I had come to terms with that.  When I had gone for the first session back in July, and since then, I had stated that I wanted to end that part of myself as it had caused so much anger and incomprehension from Tilly.  She had this hopeful look on her face that maybe I had accepted that part of myself.  I answered that it was more like resignation.  Like my spending too long in the shower.  It was still a part of me that I didn't know what to do with but I was just going to have to deal with it as I didn't appear to be changing in any way.  It wasn't until I got home that I realised how much I must have insulted my therapist and how upsetting I must be to have as a client - I essentially told her that everything we'd done was, well, irrelevant and hadn't helped in the slightest.

And okay, I may believe that it's true, but there's no call for being mean and telling others that.  Therapists are people too!

However, it's what I do.  I'm really good at putting my foot in it, I'm tired after attending a Dads' Meet last night and shitting myself over work stuff that isn't getting any better and I'm waiting to find out where it will get worse this time.  I've been feeling sick since Sunday evening and my low mood continues to stay flat-lined.  Even take out with Tilly has descended into farce tonight, we've barely spoken and when we do I can't focus enough to listen to what she's saying and end up talking rubbish, which she calls me on and then I feel stupid.  Worse, I follow this up with "I'll just shut up then" because I genuinely can't string two coherent words let alone thoughts together at the moment and this just makes Tilly feel guilty.  Which makes her look hurt and then feel like she's done something to upset me.

One day it will all be over.  I find myself hoping it will be sooner rather than later.

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All comments are welcome, I have a thicker skin virtually than I do in real life!