Sarahjanus's Blog

February 3, 2011

I am happy, that says it all.

This morning is the first morning in a couple of weeks that I have been able to follow the pattern I prefer. The Last Child Standing (L.C.S.) left yesterday to spend the day and overnight with friends in the city. This morning was an early start for my S.O. The house became mine early. I had a chance to set out my clothes and dress in a slow easy way that felt natural, rather than the rushed stolen opportunities that have been my only escape lately. I dressed, then checked the look in a mirror and headed downstairs. I made my coffee and settled in to the keyboard.

I was surprised to discover that I hadn’t posted here since January 18th. It seems so long ago. The L.C.S. is finished school, high school that is. He had a part-time schedule for the first semester because he was (more or less) doing a victory lap as they call it these days. He had the credits he needed to graduate but had no plans for college so he went back to high school to add and upgrade his college/university credits while working to save money for next year’s school.

That’s a long explanation to get to the point that I once had my mornings free, clear, private and relatively secure. That exclusive opportunity ended last week. It was already being impacted by the piece work that I do. I have a vacation planned for later this month so I have been hustling to; a] get my work done before I go, and b] do as much work as possible so that the trip can be paid for promptly. Work has taken me out of the house for day trips and denied me many of my dress-days.

I’ve written before about the hysteria that builds in me when I expect an opportunity to dress and it is denied to me. Those kinds of schedule changes are the worst for me. The past few weeks have been self-inflicted, ordained, and expected, so the mental response has been completely different. I think this is as it should be. If it were any different, it would be a far more serious problem than I actually have. Today I have recovered the inner peace that eludes me when I am not dressed.

I looked through my clothes this morning to figure out how much laundry I have, and when I’m going to do it. If I thought it was hard to find a decent opportunity to dress, it is exponentially more difficult to find a clear period of time to hand launder my bras and underwear, nylons and tops. Before anyone sneezes at me that I should be doing these things in a machine, there are few of them (on average), the colours are vastly different, and they are not exceptionally soiled so a quick hand wash usually is enough. The problem lies in drying time. I can’t lay them out on the drying rack my S.O. uses because there isn’t ever enough time. So I have to hang them in a side closet and hope no one goes in there for the one night they are there.

I sorted through the nylons to find the ones with runs and get rid of them. I’m a slob in drab, mostly because I don’t have to be anything-else, but partly because I don’t know how to dress myself. I have no sense of style, fashion or colour for men’s clothes. My closet is full of blue, black and khaki. My clothes are worn because I have no interest in shopping for replacements.

“En femme” dressing on the other hand, is a joy. I love the brighter colours. I love the variety of styles. I love the feel of close-fitting clothes. I now understand the need for dieting because certain things no longer fit the way they should. I love to shop for jewelry and accessories. I take much better care of my clothes and how I dress.

I am a shoe fanatic. I still throw the occasional barb at my S.O. for the stacks of shoe boxes in her closet, and the endless defenses she presents when I suggest she throw something out, but I do so with a greater understanding of what she is feeling. Those open-toe, open-back, silver high heels that she hasn’t worn in probably a year are the only thing that goes with that black skirt and the what-ever top if she is wearing silver jewelry and we are going somewhere more formal. Otherwise, those shoes may never be worn again. It’s kind of like a silver bullet for a vampire. You may not run into a vampire very often but it’s always nice to have a silver bullet when you do.

Isn’t this a load of blather? It’s so nice to be back. I can’t (often) get into the mood to write this blog unless I dress and adopt the state of mind that goes with it. I’ve written before about being treated for clinical depression, about my S.O. (and the doctors) not knowing what the cause is. The doctor put me on a prescription that brought me back to a “head-above-water” place. This past year, as I have dressed, and allowed the dressing to influence my state of mind, I have known an inner peace, a self-generated happiness, an acceptance of who I am even if the true me is not a public person. Last week, my doctor began to taper me off the last of the prescriptions. He sees no need for them anymore.

I’m happy. I’m still a cantankerous old(er) man. I’m still moody. I’m still emotionally volatile and overly sensitive to criticism. I’m still reclusive because I don’t ever feel like I fit in. But I am happy. I know how to find happiness in a day. I am amazed at the change. When asked why I’m not a happier person, personality, I have long argued that not all of us are programmed or destined (fate or choice, take your pick) to be happy. I argued that perhaps I was one who was not. I have to add a codicil to that belief. Perhaps, of those who are not happy, there is a number who are not happy because their triggers are not on the “A” list of things that make us happy. Success, the joy of children, the refuge that comes with a strong and positive marriage/relationship, friends, and hobbies are among the things on the “A” list. I have all of those things, so I am challenged as to why I am not happy. Nobody ever suggested to me that I might be happier if I dressed and presented as a woman for a portion of each day. I wonder why not.

I am happy. I hope that a measure of happiness finds each of you in every day. My apologies to my friends who also blog. I haven’t taken the time recently to read your writings. Today I will.


1 Comment »

  1. Hi Sarah

    Glad to have you back, and happy too that is a bonus. I have fortunately never had to use anti-depressants but I have had back surgery and do suffer from back-ache/pain. Dressing is a better than any medication I can take. I guess it is adrenaline to some extent, but it must also release endorphins or whatever it is that makes me feel better. Unfortunately it doesn’t always last and if I’m playing golf in male mode, I don’t always have a spare set of clothes and have to resort to pills!!

    Glad you have your inner peace back.
    Hugs Tina x


    Comment by TinaCortina — February 3, 2011 @ 1:19 pm

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