Originally Posted by
TxKimberly
OK,
Those of you that have been burdened with my posts over the years have probably noticed a few themes that keep creeping in. Among them, the wish that I had had the confidence when I was younger to do the things I do these days. Some of this post is focused on cross dressing, and some is just life in general - things we ALL may have in common, CD's, GG's, "normal" folks. As I am sure is true with everyone, I have had several pivotal moments in my life - epiphanies if you will:
- The moment I realized that some of my suicidal tendencies had the very real potential to hurt others, not just myself.
- The day I approached as close to wisdom as I will ever get by realizing that I was stupid as a rock.
These days a new thought just keeps reverberating in my head, over and over, and I can't shake it. I am afraid that I am running out of time! There will be a few that are older than I am and will giggle at this, but for me it is a very real terror. I look in the mirror, and I see a bald man who is getting old. In the last few years I have from time to time seen my father looking back at me from the mirror and this sends shivers up and down my back and makes me literally sick to my stomach.
No hair on the top of my head, wrinkles every where, hair growing on my ears and out of my nose (YUCK!!) and I think "OMG, soon I will be far to ugly to cross dress!"
When I have dressed in the past, it has often been a wonderful thing for me. For just a moment I am not ugly, I am not plain, and am not . . . I don't know, not a worm. For just a few minutes, I am beautiful, I am pretty, I am a butterfly.
Lately I have to cake the makeup on quite heavy to hide the beard. Sometimes this highlights the wrinkles, and in some ways emphasizes my age. What am I going to do when even dressed I hate my appearance? What am I going to do when I look in the mirror and don't see a reasonably pretty woman looking back but see only an old drag queen?
I feel desperation and it's growing almost intolerable. My birthdays seem to come so fast, tick tock tick tock, and every one is no longer a celebration because all I can think about is that there is one year of my quota, my allowance, my allotted span.
I know this is not entirely coherent, but hey, feelings rarely are.
Maybe this is just vanity on my part, and I should be ashamed of myself.
Maybe this is normal, something everyone goes through.
I don't know.
I just can't bear the thought that all of the exciting and momentous times of my life may be in my past, done, gone. That soon I will have to resign myself to no longer cross dressing because I can't stand to see what I am becoming.
Maybe I should just back away from the keyboard . . . :-)
Kim