I was not a happy person.  For a start, it was Monday. Secondly, I’d not had the best night of sleep ever and thirdly, the reason that I’d not had the best night sleep is that, having attended to a few ordinary things beforehand, I told myself that I could treat myself and that I’d peruse the internet so, on this occasion, duly started searching for ‘crossdresser’ and ‘lingerie’ and marvelled at the delights before me for a while.

I also saw a site advertising what were breast forms made out of foam – the equivalent of a fake  non-window breaking ‘damage free’ football made out of foam, but these were price reasonable, therefore non-pocket damaging C-cup breast forms.  Only they weren’t because they were out of stock – not that I was in any way interested – really.

I must have browsed here and there, back and forth from the search results, in an out of sites, wowing at some of the prices, trying, for some bizarre reason to focus on the .co.uk sites listed, for a good 45-60 minutes even though I told myself I’d go to bed – only I didn’t.  I even found myself drawn to register on Pinterest and select 5 categories – all of which were to do with lingerie and cross dressing.

Here was yet another example – call it a reminder if you like – as to why crossdressing had taken over my life.  I had previously, and for some considerable time, been burning midnight oil on-line, spending hours locked away in my little hidey hole at all times of the day and night, crossdressed in a variety of outfits for hours upon end – hell, I could think of nothing else back then.  It had been an addiction and I was very much an addict until around early November 2015.

But in the aftermath, there was no cold turkey.  Not so much as a feather.  However, last night, having already endured some cold turkey the other week, another turkey was plucked, prepped but left cold for me to endure.

Last night, my senses had dug somewhere into my archived grey matter and, somehow, gave me a very clear reminder of what it used to feel like to be wrapped in sensuous, sexy, lacy lingerie, tight fitting where it needed to be – quite simply lovely.  In that very moment, I craved it – switch life off, put everything aside, erase all – just a little while please in some lingerie.  I didn’t want the senses, I wanted the actuality.

As I was irrationally immersing myself in the moment, at some relatively ungodly hour, the other half awoke for a call of nature.  For a few minutes before hand, I’d been telling myself to get off to bed, but there was I – eyes on the screen, fingers clicking, domain searching, eye candy everywhere.   The thud, thud, thud of footsteps across the floor outside the door led me to very quickly ‘X’ out of everything and within  a snap of the fingers, I was back to reality.

I told myself that I’d contemplate some more as I drifted off to bed, but if I’m honest, I can’t recall what went through my mind – besides, I was probably too tired to do anything more than sleep.

However, that failure to top my senses up to the brim and with that abrupt end the night before, things had clearly been rankling throughout the night and, not helped by being sleep deprived of my own doing, I awoke to a Monday morning where everything and everybody annoyed me or conspired against me.

I made the connection to public transport and once this had been achieved, I reasonably rationalised that I merely needed to apply myself calmly to the day – otherwise, the only way was down.

But I’ve been suffering cold turkey on and off today.  The senses of my skimpy mens g-string underwear were somehow allowed to compare to something more risque which seemed to go some way to making things alright.

I told myself that I’d write another blog – this soon after the last one.  I even knew what I’d call it and I even knew where I’d go with it subject wise.  This has been an easy one to write.   I am however somewhat taken aback by the delayed ‘cold turkey’ now hitting me on what seems to be a regular basis now.

Perhaps, because I’d had breaks from crossdressing before but had started up again, something within my inner psyche had been concluding that it was OK as I’d be crossdressing again soon.    Referring once more to the Jekyl & Hyde within, battle seemed to recommence between the two of them but this was not deciding whether to cross dress or not, whether I should cross dress or not but something had registered that there were no signs that I would be about to start crossdressing again.

And that is perhaps why the cold turkey is flapping about again.  This is, I’ll not lie, proving to be quite difficult.  I told myself a while ago that perhaps I needed to go through it, but it didn’t happen and now it has taken me by surprise.

I have busied myself with a few household chores this evening – to help out generally, but also to help me out personally – it helped, but I still felt compelled to blog with the cold turkey still pecking away.

Perhaps it will stop soon – and that is why I told myself I’d write about it – as a coping mechanism.  Say what you like, but the road away from crossdressing is, it now seems clear or clearer, fraught with hazards, none of which I thought I’d experience – well, not like this anyway.

Tomorrow is another day and there are many things in the days ahead that will take up my time and my mind.    Until the next time.