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, 26 October 2015

Wall of Text Revisited

In which I complain about a bad Adam Sandler film that my children like and ruminate on the fact that the Depression has won, in a sense, in that there is no Anxiety at present and little joy.

First, the film. Hotel Transylvania 2. My children saw the posters and wished to see it, which they did with Tilly, and then took me to see it. Don't get wrong, I see the attraction of the slapstick in it and the joy in some of the voice acting. I see the fact that flashy sequences and the outrageous colour will attract and interest my two children. I even get why they both like the Blob character who exists, it seems, solely to take cartoon punishment and do very little. All of this is fine. But the roles and the not-so-subtle swipes at motherhood, parenthood, relationships, gender-roles, tolerance, women, non-violence... Ugh, it left a bad taste in the mouth. Women are feisty and interesting until children, when they lose all interest in their partner, all awareness of the world and become, in essence, boring. Children are just 'wimps' to be bullied until toxic masculinity allows pure, unadulterated, rage to pour out righteously and smite those who threaten them. It's every Adam Sandler movie ever made and it makes me want to erase him from existence. Luckily my responses to this are ready and may not need to be deployed, we shall see, the children were more interested in the Blob and the fact he rode an incredibly slow scooter.

The other, more boring, news is that it would appear I just have regular ol' depression. So I just can't seem to muster the enthusiasm to do anything at the moment. It means that I have not taken the opportunity offered by Tilly being away for a night to dress. I didn't even bother trying. It just seemed... not relevant. I've had a couple of ales, they were nice, but I have not reviewed them because that would be work. Hell, I've barely updated here properly for ages.

And that's about it. I had a scary moment with the car, managing to recharge after a parents' evening with 11% charge remaining and the charger is open at the nearby IKEA now, allowing free coffee on weekdays 'til 9pm and that's good. Also, it's closer. I shouldn't have another panic like Thursday again.

Tilly and I did discuss the discussion I have requested. I remain at a loss about things, and I find it hard to transmit that to her. Mind you, that's because I am a tad rubbish. Tilly has reinvented the past again, now my written admission of cross-dressing was noted but was confusing and too vague (the wording was something like "I want my partner to understand that sometimes I enjoy wearing women's clothes"). In short, there was no way that she could possibly have known that I was actively cross-dressing or that I liked cross-dressing or that it was a thing. No way. Yes. In that discussion she also suggested that I need to choose between accepting my cross-dressing and fore-swearing it as much as possible, like giving up smoking or drinking; or just find a way to therapy it away. Hmm.

Therapy was the main topic of discussion. And yes, I accept I need it. However, I also know that I shall undermine it as much as possible because, well, that's what I do. Also, it will cost and I can't justify spending what it would cost. By not feeling happy for such a long time I suppose I have once again got to the point where I could quite happily not do so for some time longer.

Today Tilly has worked on her book for most of the day and had a bath. Now she's gone to bed. Last night she was in bed early too. I am failing to have early nights. Or to spend time with her.

Plus ca change as I have said many times in the past, equally sarcastically.

2 comments:

  1. Therapy is great if you can find the right therapist. Not all therapists are the right one. I'm on my fourth, and I chose a man this time. It seems to be working. Also, you need to be ready to do it voluntarily and not go in there knowing that you're going to undermine it. There's a game called Look How Hard I Tried which works along similar lines.

    As always, a state of depression is a bad place to start anything from. Have you tried establishing IKEA as your Happy Place? It seems to work for Furiosa. She likes the way the candles smell as you come down the escalator.

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    1. Agreed on the therapy insight. I'm... not very good at therapy. I am aware of both the "I've Broken It" and "Look How Hard I Tried" games. Like the lightbulb, you really have got to want to change. And that implies you have a vague idea what into. And I have no clue what that would look or feel like. It's the single largest reason I end up undermining things. I don't set out to undermine, I just do.

      Happy Places have been attempted, with varying degrees of success, in the past. I've never tried IKEA. Given how often I may be going there in the near future it may be a place to try. Alas, my IKEA has no escalators. :( However, I fully understand the candles thing - I shall attempt this.

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