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, 11 October 2015

It was the best of times...

Well, dang. I wish I looked as comfortable either way. And
that is a fantastic hairstyle. The more I see of this sort of
thing the more I wish I had the hair to do that.

Props to this person for being, well, so comfortable (though
they do look happier on the left).
If I'm honest, I'm uncertain how much my recent revelation is, in fact, an actual revelation. Part of me is cock-a-hoop that I have a definition that fits and part of me is just sitting here thinking, rather reasonably I might add, that it changes nothing and, well, I should have been able to work that one out far quicker than I did. Mind you, perceptions can have a huge effect on things, as I learned today in conversation with Tilly regarding my own issues and hers. Okay, that was vague.

Tilly had a mini-melt-down regarding things that needed doing. We'd been out to IKEA in the electric car (still cool, still causing me totally unnecessary worry) and had a good time (because we're that rock and roll as a family - we get to go to a furniture store, eat wholesome food, drop the children off at a play area and then wander the place as a couple and take notes - dang we're dangerous). On return the children and I popped into town to sort out birthday things for Tilly but the shop we wanted to go to was shut. Our eldest was in that mood where she was pushing to find something to complain about and I'd caved and got her a Kinder Egg, which may not have been my greatest parenting decision, so that we arrived home with a shouting Girlie and loud Boy. To my surprise, Tilly had been having a nap rather than working, so our arrival was not really welcome. After shouting down that she was having a nap both children, for different reasons, began shouting back up at her. I tried to quieten them but also realised the precarious nature of the situation. I began to move things in the kitchen to take them out into the garden.


Flappy little bastards.
I never made it. Tilly came downstairs in a grump to deal with the children, and she did, whilst I emptied the kitchen of stuff for the compost pile. I then sorted the Boy and then went and did some minor chores. Eventually, Tilly started getting out the vacuum cleaner, complaining that she was glad other people got to do what they wanted whilst she had to vacuum. Luckily I talked her down (by doing the vacuuming) and we had a chat. It turns out that Tilly believes I have not been my usual self in a depression and that I have, in fact, been much better than normal in this funk. Now, I'll be honest, apart from spotting this one a little earlier than normal I don't think I have been all that different. Tilly begs to differ and pointed out that I have made her feel less on edge and shitty. As a consequence she has found it easier to look after herself (the subtle, or blatant, blaming of her feelings on me is not missed however). Whatever, the point is that perceptions can have a big effect.

Ah, another wistful sigh for the things that I totally can't have.

Mind you, when would I have had the chance to wear them?
The shoes are no longer there. I cannot buy them, despite having the money. I have been to my local pub again, I got rather tipsy last night, and so goes the weekend. I'd say "not tipsy in a bad way" but people in the States may well disagree. I don't know. It's pub culture so your mileage may vary. Long and the short? I want to wear a nightie to bed again or a dress at some point. Most of the week has had this as a backdrop. Not enough that it's like the pink fog but enough that it's there at the back of my mind when I wake and at clear points in a day or of an evening. I even can. Since the Girlie broke her wrist she's been in with Tilly, meaning that I have been out and sleeping in the top bunk of the Boy's bed again. It's been about two weeks now. I totally could be wearing a night-dress and no one would know. But I won't, on the off-chance of being discovered and buggering up what appears to be a rather positive time at the moment.

2 comments:

  1. It's a good thing, surely, that Tilly feels less on edge. It's not something that anyone likes to admit, but people who live in the same house affect each other positively and negatively, and while we all like to think we're individuals and responsible for our own stuff, we share our shit around.

    The trick is to own up to it before the other person accuses you of it. Compare "I'm sorry, I'm really grumpy and tired because I had a really hard day at work" and "You always take your work problems out on me, it's not fair because I also go to work too!". The result may be the same (one person goes to bed early, the other cruises Netflix), but the feelings are very different. Oh, and the other thing, you can't make the other person do this. Great.

    ReplyDelete

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