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Frustration for the non-techie, I’ve been stymied in my efforts to understand why my blog doesn’t show up when you do a subject search through the WordPress page. A message back from their support staff simply told me how the indexing works, that it is based on the body content rather than the title or the categories. So if someone searches cross-dressers, or cross-dressing, they won’t find my blog. This therefore is a test message, I’ve put the key words in the content.

Despair fueled by cowardice

The saga continues, probably because the alternatives are unreasonable. I haven’t written in awhile. The predominant reason is that I haven’t been motivated to write. My dearly beloved and long-suffering wife might suggest that I only have something to say when it is negative or critical. She believes that I don’t know how to say nice, positive or complimentary things. She’s right, unfortunately.

I have been able to cross-dress fairly regularly over the past weeks. There have been challenges to be sure but I usually manage a few hours dressed to a level that brings me some peace. I have a new base from L’Oreal that I have begun wearing daily, and I add a touch of mascara to that. Until I figure out the wig/hair part, this is enough to satisfy the inner woman. I wear the mascara all day until a minimum of ½ hour before my wife is due home at which point I remove it.

I missed it one day though which provided its own little internal horror. There are those who know me professionally who say that I can’t be happy in a world that isn’t stress and strife filled. Once upon a time I believed them, but I’m not so sure anymore. Perhaps I have created enough internal stress that I’m not looking for anymore. I had put on the mascara in the morning and gone about my business for the day. The end of the day found me in the kitchen, putting together food for dinner. I don’t claim to cook, but I can prepare food from containers and boxes for a passable meal. My wife arrived home, on schedule, there was no element of surprise but I had simply forgotten that I still had mascara on. She was distracted, which is often the case and only absent-mindedly kissed me. The timer sounded on the stove, telling me to put the food on the table, at the same time the alarm went off in my head. We were alone for dinner; we sit across the table from each other in a well-lit room. The television is a side-show, not a main attraction, so I had to expect that she would notice my eyes if I didn’t get them cleaned up. I asked her to carry the food to the table while I went to the bathroom. I suffer from colitis so it isn’t unusual for me to give priority to the bathroom over dinner.

In many of the posts in Crossdressers.com when “postees” are grappling with the tell/no tell quandary, the respondents will often write that a closet cross-dresser may find that his secret isn’t as much of a secret as he believes. In moments like mine, I often wonder how much she has observed and chosen to remain quiet about. It’s not her normal style but age has mellowed her to accepting that not every fact needs to be stated. While she is convincing me that I should always tell the truth, I am convincing her that not every truth needs to be told.

The theme of this blog was to be the despair of living a half-life because I lack the courage to confront my demons and open myself up to the one person who is supposed to love me and support me through all. There are some things that I think might strain the bonds of matrimony and my cross-dressing is one of them.

My thoughts for the moment, September 29, 2010.