Pits to peaks to deeper pits. (long - over 800 words)
Pits to peaks to deeper pits. (long - over 800 words)
This past ten days my mood has gone from okay to horribly worried, to better than my greatest dreams, and now to despair.
Things were okay, my wife and I were comfortably going about things as we have for as far back as I can remember. We talked, hugged, kissed; the normal things a married couple would do. She was aware that I was a crossdresser and that we had postponed further discussion until after her workload diminished. That happened a week ago Thursday.
I had heard from Samantha Rogers about a local support group called Crossroads that would meet the following Saturday. I wanted to attend and knew that my wife would innocently ask where I was going. I will not lie to her and believed that telling her about Crossroads would rip open the newly formed scab that grew after "The Talk" last December. This was an inflection point. Should I wait until a better time? Is there ever a better time? Shall I pull "The Talk - II" ahead? What could be the consequences?
I chose to reopen our discussion about my cross dressing.
I will spare you the details, but it was a very difficult Thursday followed by a very difficult Friday. Many tears were shed by her and by me. Our souls were bared, our emotions were raw. Everything came out. Harsh words were said. If the story ended there, it would end very very badly. But it did not end there.
After hitting the bottom but agreeing that we really do love each other we began rebuilding.
Saturday morning the framework for acceptance was formed. Expectations, permissions, and limitations began to emerge. We joined together to work toward a mutually acceptable solution that would respect her legitimate concerns and my legitimate needs. She wants to learn and do those things that will restore my happiness. I want to live a life free of lies and hiding while remaining very sensitive to her feelings and our marriage. I will continue to treat her as the most important person in my life.
We both went to the Crossroads meeting, but she left as the girls began to arrive. Her emotions were still too sensitive to stay.
We had agreed to completely open and honest communications. No question would go unanswered, all answers would be truthful. There were many very frank discussions during the following week. Very intimate details of our lives were disclosed. Tears were common, as were gestures of deep love and respect. We each made appointments with therapists, her first session was Thursday, mine will be on Monday.
We became closer emotionally than at any time in the past ten years. God blessed me with a wife that is beyond a doubt a better match for me than any other woman on earth.
We still have work to do on our mutual agreement but it will be done in the spirit of love and respect instead of anger and shame.
Sunday I went to another meeting, this one named Transitions. As the name implies, its primary membership and its focus appears to be those that are transitioning or have already transitioned. They were very nice and accepted this crossdresser with open arms, but I did not feel that would be a good match for me.
Monday I went to a psychologist that specializes in gender issues, and is a sponsor of that group. I told her that I went to that meeting, that I'm merely a crossdresser, and don't believe it's a good fit for me. She said I was mistaken.
She told me things I did not want to hear. She told me that I present as a classical case of crossdresser on a path toward transitioning. She spoke in terms that made it sound inevitable and she suggested that I begin HRT. I told her that I am Superman with super will power and I can will it away. I quit drinking and I quit smoking by simply never having another. She said those were behaviors and this is not. She said the feelings would continue, even though I ceased practicing. I would experience increasing anxiety until I came to accept it and take it to it's conclusion. I'm already so anxious that I can't focus my thoughts on anything else but this. It wakes me up at night. I'm shaking.
I'm a pretty stoic guy. I am able to shake off emotional baggage with never a thought. Yet, I cried all the way home and for the next hour after getting here.
I'm scared. I'm vulnerable. On proof reading this note, I sound rather pathetic.
I'm going to shop around for a psychologist that believes differently.
On a positive note. My dear wife told me today that she will not leave me. The woman is a saint.
Best wishes
MsVal
New peaks on the horizon.
I'm feeling MUCH better now.
Acting on the advice of the best friends a CD could have, and with the encouragement of my dear wife, I saw a different therapist yesterday, one that came recommended by my wife's therapist.
I wanted her to confirm that I was suffering from an overactive imagination, that I am not actually a crossdresser, and certainly not transsexual. That didn't happen. She said that for a couple reasons, I fit the pattern of a crossdresser. However, I don't fit the pattern of one that will transition.
There are many very dear gals that have already, or are in the process of transitioning, who share their life experiences and wisdom on this forum. They face hardships and struggles far beyond what I think I could bear. While I wish them all big hugs and great days, I am thankful for the confirmation that I am not likely to join their numbers.
You should know by now that I consider this crossdressing thing a shameful curse and transitioning a dark, frightening journey. The good news / bad news story then becomes: MsVal is "just" a crossdresser. I don't know whether to cry or to cheer.
<grumble>
We talked about what I should do about it. Her advice was to cease feeling shame and accept it as a part of "me". Getting comfortable with the idea that it' okay to be a crossdresser will take a bit of work, and she is willing to help. I will see her again next Monday.
When the session was over, while brooding in my truck and checking my smart phone for messages I found the most timely, uplifting note from my sweet wife. She had done some research on line and wrote to me about a cute wig that she thinks would look good on me. How could she know how badly I needed that note? (How could a guy like me ever be so incredibly fortunate to have a wife so incredibly sweet?)
The clouds of depression were blown away and I can see new peaks on the horizon.
Best wishes
MsVal
