Even Smiling Makes My Face Ache

I think I really need to get some help. No, I'm not being suicidal again. Let me just get that out right up front. I'm just not well.

My wife has told me she is no longer comfortable with me wearing panties. I was trying to gauge her feelings about it to possibly bring up the idea of perhaps introducing leggings, tights, and stockings into my wardrobe. But the conversation that ensued made me realize that continuing down this path of being trans means doing it alone and in secrecy, at least at home. Eventually I think I will have to decide between keeping my marriage and being true to myself about who I am. Hopefully, eventually, I can find a balance that is acceptable to all parties, and not have to decide.

The stress I've been feeling since this discussion has been completely absurd. I feel like I can't breathe. I feel trapped. I feel like I'm being asked to give up an enormous part of myself. It's terrifying and suffocating and crushing.

I can't go back to the therapist I'd been discussing my gender identity issues with. The first visit I had with her went extremely well, I thought. I came out of it in better spirits than I'd been in quite some time. She made me feel like it was completely fine for me to feel and dress like a woman.

The second and third times I saw her were a completely different thing altogether. During our second session she asked me what else I could do instead of dressing, because it didn't seem healthy to her. During the third and final visit, I mentioned this blog and how I had described the events relating to my suicide, among other things. I also told her that the suicide was off limits for discussion because it's not something I'm comfortable taking about. After we discussed the dressing for a few minutes, she circled back to the suicide, and pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Finally I gave up and talked about it. By the time I left I was shaking. I had to sit in my manager's office for quite a while before finally starting work that day. And mentally I haven't felt right since.

I am really hoping when I finally get the courage to talk to my wife about my other self, about Emily, that we can be civil toward and understanding of each other's feelings. I definitely need to plan what I want to say to her and how I want to say it, because otherwise I will simply roll over, let her dominate the conversation, and give in to her wishes even if it means completely abandoning my own. It's how I'm wired.

Today's title is from a bit of dialogue from Rocky Horror Picture Show.