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. 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 "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" 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, 28 January 2016

The Times They Are A-Changing

So much going on, so little time.

My marking grows ever more urgent and remains undone most of the time. Things at work pile up but so far no balls dropped. Less stress and more tiredness.

Yeah, I can relate to this. This is apposite.
I took a personality test back before The Flowers and found that I was INTP - the Logician. Now, the site I did it on sugar-coated things but the overall feel of the type was negative despite that. Tilly was interested enough to do it herself (she got ENFJ - the Protagonist) and decided that her write-up was far too positive. She dug around and found that there were more negative takes on her personality type but that most remained positive. She checked mine, they were mainly negative and supported my morose beating-self-up approach. No surprises. That may explain the flowers, actually.

The other key to the sudden change in heart from Tilly may well be related to the way I phrased my issues etc. I told her that I wasn't so much questioning whether or not I was female so much as I was me and looking for how best to express that. So, sometimes I like flowery things and clothes that society tells me are feminine. Other times I like soldiers, painting and warfare and things that society tells me are masculine. I do believe that this was a breakthrough comment for Tilly and that it has precipitated her mellowing toward my expressed issues and wishes. What that means in the long term (and The Flowers was certainly positive) remains to be seen.

Fear, horror.

Also, two nights ago she raised a third child again, we had a brief chat. She is still very much hoping for a third child.

To her credit, Tilly addressed all of the concerns I raised years back about the prospect - her distance, irritability, discomfort, lack of intimacy, lack of sex (both now attributed to wanting to get 'frisky' but not understanding me enough to not get so angry with what I said or did that she wrote off anything nice in favour of being annoyed) etc. She explained that, with things much better now, she was keen to keep that going and use it to make the whole experience better and part of our love for one another. I was flattered. She was a little confused by my rather unexpected concerns surrounding the fact that climatologists refuse to have children (citing their conclusions as evidence why) and my own feeling that population density-easing was best practiced at home - which are my main concerns these days. The rest, what she tackled, remains in my mind as things that are issues, but are not my driving concern regarding children. We agreed to think on what each other had said. Well, Tilly urged me to digest what she had said.

And I have. In the bath yesterday morning I thought about how little has really changed, though very much for the better, and how little time we've had so far. Now, if this were after a year or so of changed attitudes and increased affection etc then I suspect I would be more open. As it is... It is too early, I feel, to be making any rash decisions about children with the promises given thus far. Case in point - a recent request for intimacy from Tilly was interrupted by illness and the predictable time of the month. Commuted to snuggling (no complaints about that) but that became me stroking her hair and her falling asleep. Not really 'snuggling' as such. It did... well, suffice to say, I don't see any change there for a bit. I'm still not complaining, but I shan't be changing my life plans on increased intimacy any time soon.

I also haven't dressed in the New Year. I was hoping to do so tonight as Tilly was due out with friends. Which is now not happening. Also, both children are slightly ill. In the Boy's case this translates to 'won't sleep until midnight' and 'gets up at ungodly o'clock in the morning'. Bugger.

Finally, I've gone from 32 followers to... uh... 26. Not sure what I've done to offend people. Probably my lack of posting and activity. Getting flowers? Eh, who knows.

Saturday, 23 January 2016

Out of the Blue

My wife bought me flowers today.

Like the ones in the bottom right actually, well, centre at the
bottom. Two bunches.

I could just leave this entry with that phrase, I really could, but it deserves some explanation. I haven't been posting, here or anywhere else, and I've been feeling pretty shitty, all told. Struggling to keep up with marking, always an issue this time of year. Ah, long story short: me feeling down and depressed makes for fewer posts.

Anyway, I bought Tilly a CD after the holidays - a replacement for one that she always loved and then I got it destroyed. It was in the car, it fell out one day (Tilly never put CDs back in their cases) and I didn't notice. So it got scratched and driven over a bit for a few days in the car parking space I used where we used to live. That would have been around 2012. After Christmas I had a voucher so I used it to buy the CD. It took until yesterday to get delivered and so I brought it back eagerly along with the DVD of Tron: Legacy that I got to make it free postage. We watched the film, together, even though Tilly is feeling ill again. This on the back of some actual romantic interaction over the last week or so. And, today, Tilly bought me flowers. Said it had been a plan for a while. And I am absurdly grateful and pleased about it.

They are market bought. White, purple, red and pink flowers with two yellow roses and plenty of leafy stuff in the background. Delicate and pretty and, well, they're lovely.

I don't know what I was expecting, I've never been bought flowers before, but they are lovely and pretty and colourful and... I am happy they have been bought for me. How ridiculous. But I am, very happy. Absurdly grateful. Tilly bought me flowers and they are brilliant.

Sunday, 10 January 2016


I've recorded the bad and the ugly, now the unexpectedly good.

Doctor, doctor, I think I'm Genderqueer?

How can you tell?

I've been listening to the Tron: Legacy  soundtrack on repeat pretty mush since finding it by accident last weekend. Never seen the film, saw the original and wanted to see this but it was 2010 and there was a Boy and stuff happened. On Thursday I was alone on the evening, things were not good, I vomited about it to Tilly on Friday. It all came out, everything, in a splurge of random invective and self-hatred. I think I took Tilly aback. Mostly because I turned everything on me, the whole lot: I blamed myself (I do, despite appearances on here) and basically went on about how much I hated myself for my failings and flaws and the fact that I had no clue in what direction to move.

I shared my fear of rejection, which runs pretty fucking deep, and my fear of things happening that I want. I wanted stability and reasoned back when 14 that my family was pretty good, actually, and that I would not be that useless teen that complained about their family. I think the exact line went "Thank You, God, for giving me a family when so many have to deal with divorce and absent parents." It was one week before my father left. I wanted a girlfriend who was devoted to me. And I got one in University. It was cloying and sad, she was not for me and I wasn't for her, but she wouldn't see that. I had to leave. I broke up with her. And, in so doing, did the one thing I had promised myself that I never would: I hurt someone in a relationship by, essentially, being my father. I wanted an MA, so I went and got one, but I discovered in the process that the perpetual student life was not for me, something I had wanted since childhood. I wanted a job, I got one, and got abused by my boss to the point where I still get the sweats from not working hard enough. I wanted my Mad-Ex and gutted it, being the bastard to her ex and then being bastarded in return. It was a fucking pattern that I actually knew before getting involved and got involved anyway. I saw it coming and ignored it and, by seeing it coming, hastened it coming.

Population: everyone who ever tried anything once.

But mostly I'm scared to go there. And, no, getting rejected
was always worse than I feared.
In short, with these random examples, whenever I get anything I want I find out that a) it's ruined and I am hurt and b) it's not what I needed.

I explained this to Tilly - I cannot ask for what I want because I am scared shitless that if I do and I get it then something terrible will happen. It's why I rant on here and froth at the mouth rather than talking to people IRL about things.

I shared that I was bummed about the lack of any actual progress since the Discussion, and that I had checked whither future compromise only to find that all compromises had already been made. Tilly asked what I wanted, and then realised, the penny dropped. I agreed, I had no clue where I wanted to go because I had purposely not considered it that way for fear of the above happening. She thought about it for a bit. In the morning, yesterday, she came down from bed and started talking back. She wanted me to know that the me she loved was the me I was, not an invention, and no, she didn't know who that was entirely, but she wanted to. She said that it was stupid to forbid me to get a girly watch, if that was me, then she ought to be embracing it. No, she didn't want to see me dressed, but accepted that I hadn't actually asked for that. Unbidden, she remarked that my support for her Anxiety was more than she expected, that she wanted to do the same for me. We were both learning. She was trying, she wanted to try more. She wanted me to be me, even if I didn't like what I discovered about myself, it was me she wanted to get to know.

Because why the Hell not?
And I was shocked, glad and happy, but shocked. Where did this come from?

Then, that night, she asked and I agreed. Today we have hugged, kissed, shared moments and actually behaved a little more like I thought married couples do. And we both have got work done. And looked after the children. And done chores and and and.

I'm not complaining, quite the contrary. After everything I've written on here I think this has to be one of the most positive things I have typed. I'm guarded, but maybe this is the turning point. Maybe. I've been somewhere close to here before and it didn't go anywhere. And there you have it. Thought you ought to know.

Thursday, 7 January 2016

Vito Corleone

I've been asked to be a godfather. Again. I am actually very flattered. Scared shitless because I am poor enough at fathering my own children, but flattered. Tilly is away tonight and I am lone parenting - badly because I don't comfort sad children well, least of all our daughter, who uses grief like a weapon because she has no other idea how to use it or deal with it, something she learned from Tilly and myself I expect. And I am shit.

The godfathering ceremony, christening, is taking place a long way from home on a day that Tilly had already arranged a theatre trip. I have no wish to make her cancel, but if I'm on lone-parent duty I could just cart the children with me on the journey, my mother is close by the destination to help, and that would work, right? Wrong. Tilly was incensed. My godchild's father ought to have arranged the christening around the availability of the godparents like we didn't and ought not to have asked. I can't drive that distance, any distance, with the children on my own. She actually said this. It's the Anxiety. But it's not her fault.

And I got to wondering, what if the problem had been mine? What if I couldn't deal with her going alone on a train because I feared she would die alone and without any connection to me? I know what wouldn't have happened. Tilly would not have hugged me as I cried in fear, soothed my feelings and pledged to do anything to support my feelings. She would not have said that we would make a decision at a later point after discussion nor accepted being spurned if she did attempt the hugging. Distance between us following the encounter would not have been tolerated, nor would me continuing to talk about it as she was trying to get to sleep. In fact, if I had been about to leave and spent an evening not talking to or interacting with her because of Anxiety and then let rip over a future event there would be harsh words spoken and much haranguing. How do I know this? Because sharing my worries about our lack of physicality in the relationship that may lead to divorce or the end of 'us' is always dismissed as immature and destructive because it sparks her own fears and then I'm ruining her good mood or whatever - we never discuss those concerns meaningfully in any way.

She admits she's broken, but I react very differently. Telling her about my issues is a sure-fire way to get her to say that she must leave me to deal with my issues for her own sanity and well-being; for her to repeat that I don't offer ways for her to help and so she can't; and for her to essentially tell me to get fixed. When she is the one with issues then I should be supportive - which means listening to her go over them at her pace and when she is ready. I must be involved, I'm not allowed to check out, and I must be engaged. My reactions must be about her, if I am affected and respond that way then I am merely supplanting her own issues with my own selfishly and destructively.

And I'm a shit father. I take out my frustrations on my children, verbally, but still in a shit way.

Someone I know has announced that they are depressed, they have a depressed partner. And, you know what, they both do things for the other one to be kind and supportive. They both do things for the other because they recognise the difficulty of doing it for themselves. Tilly cannot be kind and respectful to me because I cannot do it for myself and so why should she bother? That's not me, by the way, that's a paraphrase of something she said frequently between 2010 and 2013 and returns to every now and again if I push an issue. It is my job to deal with my depression. But it is also my job to support her Anxiety responses and depression.

I'm still bitter over the time she told me that the reason she was depressed was because I never asked her about her day. After I proved I did, she said I didn't listen to what she said. So, in 2010, for six months I asked her and listened and she never asked me once. And she asks why I don't share my day (how does she know to ask if I never talk about it?) now and again.

Blogging in anger. It's been a while.

Sunday, 3 January 2016

New Year Listings

March 2015 - Devon apparently. Looks lovely doesn't it?

I honestly can't remember what the weather was like. Still,
there were other positives and so I shall focus on those.
2015 has been a strange year. It began with worries about Tilly's health, then proceeded with a crisis moment when the advice of Leslie-Anne has never been more vital and helpful than it was in that moment. It helped me to face things and to actually do something about it, something I am always at pains to avoid. The first mad props of the year, then, belong entirely to her and her frank and helpful advice. I hope that she is still well across that Pond and that she is able to read this and appreciate anew just how helpful and supportive she was to me.

After that 2015 began some actual action. The second phase was with some actual movement on my relationship that was started, and maintained, by Tilly taking some responsibility and us both trying to get along a little better and actually talk. She then went and got herself a brace of book deals and has had easily the most successful year she's ever had, and the success just keeps on coming. Add in the fact that our children have become calmer again, more like we hoped for them at the beginning, and you have the makings of quite a satisfying year. We also got an electric car, which is exciting.

Ale on the outside! Yes, summer brought some
sunshine enough to sit and drink ale in the
garden. Nice.
Of course, it was also the year when the summer seemed to mark the beginning of a new chapter for me too. And not a good one. First and foremost there was the slow resignation about various aspects of life, including the maintenance of this blog, which has never since regained the posting schedule of old. In this I was supported and touched by the awesome Rhi, who remains a lovely person in most respects - especially those that she finds lacking in her own life. I firmly believe that my imaginary friend who created the Universe created people like Rhi to challenge, support and help others and, through that, to be loved and supported in return. Thank you, Rhi.

Into the dog-days of summer, then, I recognised the onset of depression for the first time (in advance that is, not the first time being depressed) and the success experienced by Tilly began to take its toll on our physical relationship again, as it is wont to do. Rhi remained supportive and helpful and was joined by Dee, whom you all know already I'm sure, and queen's pawn, to whom I am indebted for forthright views and challenging remarks. It's the ones that make me angry that I have to listen to again and reread because there's a reason for that anger, you see, and I must be certain that I am responding well to that! Also, I like me some good challenging stuff. I may also have finally capitulated and admitted to myself that I was genderqueer - in that I don't easily fall into either box at any given time but both most of the time.

I have looked, and I cannot find this figure.

I'd buy it. Hell, if I could find it, I would buy some Finn
and even a Kylo Ren in celebration. Because why
not? Also, a stormtrooper and a flametrooper.
Of course, the Discussion was the biggest challenge of recent memory, along with the fall-out caused by that. It meant a freezing of progress in many ways but it did result in getting scented candles for Christmas, and that's a start. It was nice. It meant a little more freedom to be me, I guess. I bought me an Episode VII t-shirt (it has Rey, Finn, Poe Dameron and Chewie on a stone coloured background, I rather like it) and some socks with my Christmas money from my grandfather, which was nice, and the Boy and I played endlessly with his Lego and Angry Birds stuff.

And so 2016 dawns. Four months into a drought, but with some physicality thrown in over the festive period, and with a member of staff gone from work. Someone I helped to remove. And, thus, I shall wear that dark cloak of Death for a while in my work. I've worn it before but left before I could take it off again and, this time, I shall have to stay the course. I like it where I work, even if I am not as accepted and liked as I had assumed at my more positive moments. At least I'm not as shunned and alone as I might believe at my darker ones either. Maybe I'll even start writing my beer blog again. Maybe not.

Other sites that have helped me through the year are a bit more varied than in years past. First there's the strangely addictive numbers game that is Swarm Sim. Then there's the gaming site that the Boy and I have frequented a great deal - there's been a steady stream of good games there (I can heartily recommend the 1066 game and When Penguins Attack). Aaaand, that's about it this year. Obviously previous year's lists still rate here but nothing on the scale of those years in terms of amount of time checking and commenting - I have been very poor at that indeed this last year. And it started so well too.

Resolutions? Not this year. We have until July.

Do not. Fuck. With us.