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!

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

How to be autistic...

Well, okay, maybe not exactly entirely autistic but certainly further up the scale than most activities.  I should probably explain better than that.

The Red Wedge beats the White line.  And it did.  Kolchak
became Nicholas II and General Pyrrhus stalked the aftermath.
We talked.  Tilly and I.  Well, no, we sort of shouted at each other with swear words and then talked but, we talked.  I managed to manipulate a situation where I brought up stuff, I'm good at that sort of thing, and then we had a bit of a shout.  She jumped up and down, literally, and I swore.  Before that I'd had a yell at our son because he wasn't going to sleep, got stressed about work and generally been a bit shit all round.

Work is still hard.  I've ranted about my issues about the whole damn' thing.  Wrong kind of economy to be fiddling with careers.


She cried.  We hugged.  I remain detached.  I don't do emotion.  We slept on it.  I stayed down.  She cried whilst out with the kids and friends.  I feared coming home.  It's her birthday soon.  What a present.  I think it almost matches the one a few years ago when I was told that she was so depressed that I would have to take time off work to look after our children.  I played Depeche Mode on the way into work.  I wore my boots this morning.  I enjoyed it.  I want to go out for a walk in them like I did with the shoes almost a year ago.
Let's have a Black Celebration / Tonight
I live in cycles.  Confirmation.  October is the month of me feeling depressed (apart from, you know, all the other months) and of the old urges to become hard to control again.  Or it's just because it's the anniversary of the first entries that I wrote.  I don't know.

I had reason to recall the diaries I wrote in code today.  I therefore recalled that, in them, there's stuff about cross-dressing (well, wanting to); infantilism (that I only sort of understood at the time) and there was a section on being peed on as well.  Golden showers sort of stuff.  Don't worry, I'm not going to tarry on it.  Point is... I don't know what the point is.

The autism, yes, the point of the post.

When Tilly moved in I resolved to find out what she wanted sexually and try to provide it.  We had already dropped the easy experimentation by this point, it was after the Christmas argument, and she was quite stressed out and depressed at moving in with me away from her friends and life.  It was a hard time and I am not the sort of person you go to in order to feel supported - I am one of those people who sucks support from others.  Anyway, she withdrew a little and I upped my experimentation to try and get a reaction.  As a 'joke' I ended up narrating what I was doing.  I did ridiculous things like commenting on time between starting activities and Tilly having an orgasm.  In my head I started timing the length of her orgasm and time between orgasms.  I started noting when we had sex, tracking her times of the month... Yeah, stalker much?  It is, therefore, a little unsurprising that we slowly dropped out of spontaneous sex.

I turned her down one night too, which caused massive ructions.  I'm not really what you'd call an Alpha male, in any given group of males I will take the low end of the hierarchy.  Hell, even among geeks I'm at the lower end of the scale.  If we were being nice about it we would class me as a diplomat rather than a fighter.  More realistically, I am simply fearful of others.  She wanted, and wants, me to take a little more charge - to blast through excuses to make time for romance, to woo her.

I want to be wooed.  But I'm male in a society that expects males to be the movers and shakers.  I'm basically too passive.  I'm easily discouraged (don't cross the road / you're under a spell / of broken violins) so a little dent and I'll eject, go into a corner and do something else.  If Tilly says she's busy I leave her to it.  That's why there's been little physical contact lately.

Eee, this is not well written.  I'm going to quit before I see how much I'm not ahead.

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