Yesterday was day 1, today has been day 2. I must have had one hell of a time before as it has been plain sailing since.  Or has it?

So far this week I’ve focused on things that needed doing and it was easy to do.  However, complacency is not to be allowed as I’ve been in this situation before.

A mad indulgence, a peak; beset with guilt, a contented lay off and then ‘wham’ everything in addict world slams back in and something triggers things once more.

Last time I had the gut wrenching guilt, I told myself that I’d not allow myself to cross the boundary at which I fell into self hatred.

The moment when I’m still cross dressed in lingerie, the peak having passed, the guilt setting in, repeatedly cursing, chaos all around, desperate to return to what I call ‘civvies’ yet facing a tidy up and a task of, at the time, monumental proportions. The wife’s lingerie needing to be putback where it lives as if it never came out, storing my stockings (the only current part of my own stuff) and returning to a naked blank canvas which, dependent on the time of day would either be work attire or PJs.

What are those triggers that spark me off on the lingerie crossdressing binge? These things usually come in stages it now seems.

Sitting fresh on the outside edge of Guiltsville and with urges and thoughts suppressed, the past few days have allowed a more rational thought process.

I am a sucker for a women’s smart business dress – a white bra can usually be seen beneath a crisp white blouse and this too can be a trigger and the subject of lust for office girls electing to dress in this way occasionally.

Women on their way about their business, skirts of all lengths show an array of hosiery. How can you tell whether above the skirt hem line lies tights or my own personal favourite – stockings and suspenders? Do many women wear the latter nowadays or are they just too uncomfortable for daily use.

Maybe the type of skirt worn would give things away or cover things up but as a recovering crossdresser, seeking control, and having a vivid imagination, this is no help yet still a turn on heterosexually.

Let me say quite clearly here – I am no weirdo and there is no way I’d be doing anything other than wondering about what lies beneath but the sheer (no pun intended) look can be enough to spark an urge.

Why is it that just when I don’t need it,  I’m bombarded with crossdressing? As referenced on a recent previous blog entry, a magazine, and it seems that crossdressing on TV is becoming ever more frequent now in an array of programmes on all channels. Even one of those amateur video shows aired at family viewing time featured a shot of a bloke dancing in a gold bra earlier this month. Is this a conspiracy? Of course not but the timing is usually awful or at best inconvenient.

In a high street or shopping centre, I’ll have no qualms with wandering into the lingerie department with the wife (or anyone for that matter – most blokes I feel wouldn’t know where to look or how to act!) or lingering outside a lingerie shop whilst others visit a nearby shop of complete opposites.

My god this is an addiction – or fetish – maybe I need to look up the definitions of both to help me decide.

Society seems set on blurring gender lines as we become an ever more accepting society of certain things at least sexuality wise. But there is a long way to go in many areas and accepting of suffering TV/TS folk is as yet a long way off I feel. I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone out and about but I’d make a special effort to smile nicely and not stare. Are we such a tolerant society as many might make out or are we conveniently tolerant in particular areas?

I have no urge for gender reassignment or adding women’s clothing on top of lingerie or of going out dressed as a woman with hair and make up.  That is not me. But I have a penchant for the way lingerie looks and feels and how I feel when in it.  Yes – it is sexual otherwise what else is it?

I do want to explore my sexuality and be in touch with my feminine side where I can and how I can.  But how without causing myself such personal anguish on an increasingly more frequent basis? It never used to be or feel this way.  What has changed of late?

Day 3 approaches and one which offers no chance for actual crossdressing. Thoughts regarding it – and more rational ones at that – yes.

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