Sunday, December 23, 2012

Baking Xmas Cookies

We're having the big Xmas celebration at our place this year, a first.   Looks like everyone but my brother in law will be here, he won't be coming in until 10pm that night.  So we've been busy...

  I've backslid quite a bit.  Almost a year ago, I started repressing and blocking again.  In an impartial (which is all I can be right now) way, it was interesting, I guess.   Felt exactly the same as when I was six years old.  Except this time, I'm not six.  I'm in my mid forties, educated about the condition and the social repercussions, and very well aware of what is happening.  But I'm finding I can do nothing to stop it.  It's like I'm just going along for a ride, which makes sense considering *I* am on the other side of the blocking. 

Still, it's weird.

  I look better than I did a few years ago.  I've lost weight & my hair is long enough that I'm ma'am'd regularly despite only wearing men's clothing (at least until I talk).  It's like part of me won't give up but I can't feel it, at all.

  The only way out that I can see is to bring up the conversation I've been dreading with my wife.  The one where I ask her why she suddenly stopped seeing the therapist a few years ago and simultaneously stopped any practical indication of being supportive or even understanding.      She won't allow the kids to use female pronouns & after a short time the rest of my extended family simply followed her lead.    She still says, "I love you" & otherwise our relationship is pretty much the long as nothing 'T' is brought up.  If it is, she simply avoids the discussion by saying she can't talk or changes the subject.  I'm dreading it because every time I bring it up and she blocks the conversation or simply says, "yeah" (as in, "well, that's too bad"), I sink even deeper into blocking *everything* out of shame. 

  What I'm really blocking is a depression deep enough to kill me, but everything else that is *me* goes along for the ride.   It's a hell of an effective protective mechanism, but if I go through my entire life without having lived a day as really being me or feeling anything so that I actually feel like I've "lived" it, how can it possibly be considered a good one?

  Oh, and I've turned the comments back "on".  I need any advice anyone might have, please.