So it’s like this – GerryLynn is on Twitter. I suppose you could call me impulsive and in the same way that I used to say “to hell with it” and crossdressed, this time, I’ve said “to hell with it” and merely set up an account on the popular social networking site.
You might ask why, given that I don’t actively indulge these days, but you’d only be asking a question I have asked myself. The answer? Just because. That’s it. For a start, an Avatar was easy – I merely downloaded the Avatar from my other net presences and there it was.
I did however, omit to immediately delete that image from my desktop (it is not the first time) to where I’d saved it to then upload, only to wake the other morning and remember and unable to sleep as a result, had to go and not just delete, but shred it from my desktop. Then, it occurred me that I’d also ‘Ctrl V’d the blog address onto my clipboard, so at the same time, so found something mundane and un-interesting to add over the top.
Having stopped crossdressing so long back, there’s still an air of secrecy, but I’m somehow content about the Twitter feed. Having set up the account, I pondered for a few minutes as to what on earth I’d be posting on it and then instantly recalled that I could notify those who might be interested that I had posted a new blog. I was beginning to justify action that, at first, felt un-necessary and somewhat kneejerk.
Why else might my suppressed alter-ego be on Twitter? Well, to follow people who share a common interest for a start. As the day-to-day me, there’s no chance I could go following feeds for this, that and the other, but as GerryLynn I could do just that – indulge – share experiences, appreciate experiences of others etc. Admittedly, I would probably have never contemplated going on line in this way until I found someone else who’d promoted their presence.
Tweeting me for the first time,and greeting me rather sweetly, they said that they hoped that they were not going to be a bad influence. I mused back with my first tweet as GerryLynn that being a bad influence would be quite possible given that I now had an account as a result of making contact but that I was quite open to being disruptively influenced. Whatever did I mean? Sure, I have since found people to follow, all of whom are connected to my love of lingerie. So, as I also said – “what the hell”.
It would seem that I’m having a wobble again. Again, my mindset has been whirring away like a computer chip, processing, trying to work out the calculation as to how I might crossdress again whilst at the same time, the devil and angel I’ve blogged about before battle not about whether I should or not, this time, they battle with reason, thought and logic.
Again, the same old ‘November’ argument comes up to trump every trump card, along with the piece of mind attached to have not been crossdressing or planning to do so and that I have priorities have counted massively.
Still, I torment myself. It is almost as if there are invisible shackles, a chastity belt if you will. I can’t crossdress because – well, because I just can’t, yet still I long to, I yearn to, then proverbially slap myself in the face to bring myself to my senses once more.
Still I torment myself. Today, there was a necessary trip to the tried and trusted home and hardware store for a few things for my ablutions. As I set off from work, I told myself that, this time, I would go up ‘that’ aisle, I would look at the box of lacy black hold up stockings for as much as possible. A relatively short yet seemingly long and longing glance it was though.
Basket in hand, in reality, the look was probably no more than 2-3 seconds but it was enough to remind me of something I already knew – the colour of the box, the wording, the contents, the location in the store. Mind you, I did have to look for it – the display still being in the same place, but the order a little different. But I’m a quick reader, and I soon saw what I wanted to see and committed it to file.
However, with a distant echo of disappointment, I blitzed onwards to fetch what I knew I went in for and with a short hesitation as to whether I would go and take another look up ‘that’ aisle just because, I rejected the plan and made for the checkout.
But that merest moment, when I could pick it up, would not be followed by a ‘put it back’ moment – that would be way too embarrassing and clumsy anyway – I mean, imagine the scene for yourself (although admittedly, there is a theory that I could’ve been buying a pack for someone else – just not someone who is also in me) – it would go in the basket and I’d be away with it. That is all it would take to send me spinning back into crossdressing – because stockings are the spark to the flame. I love them.
There we are then – despite all the progress, there is still a veering towards crossdressing on-line and in my mind – just not in reality.
Just lately, I’ve been telling, ney convincing myself of the reasons why I can’t crossdress. For starters, I’m like the catchphrase for that well known tube of crisps – once I pop, I can’t stop. I suppose that’s reason number 1. I’ve tried the ‘a little bit of what you fancy does you good’ method but it was more like ‘a lot of what you fancy does you no good’.
Number 2 is that my conscience is like a baseball bat into which nails have been embedded. It hurts when I’ve crossdressed and I hate myself for it. I’ve previously blogged about debauchery and all out indulgence that tipped me over the edge.
Number 3 or maybe lower is that the body is mish-mash of hair growth and no hair growth, recently waxed and needing to be waxed. Everything is out of kilter, so I’d not totally like the look if I was dressed in lingerie but not entirely smooth. I’d probably manage though!
Number 4 is that there are is a multitude of things I could, should and need to do at some point – all of which act as a distraction when I do them.
Number 5 if indeed there is an order to this, is that there are folk in my life I should pay more attention to, more attention that I would if I regularly crossdressed and flaunted it which is what I’d want to do.
Another reason is that, invariably, the opportunities to crossdress (either with or without anything on top of convention) would usually be when there is time in the day by myself, early mornings, early to mid to late evenings, weekends etc. Two-fold, the quiet time is more limited these days – there are people around in the house more often these days and indulging in my addiction would see nothing else get done of note.
There are also other signs. Friends bought me and the wife a rather nice gift the other day – a plaque with our names on it. The fact it came from them made me, immediately on seeing it, make a weld in my mind more firmly away from my life as a crossdresser. It was just one of those gifts that embodies you into the bosom of your life just that little bit more and closes the closet door equally more.
However, all of that doesn’t stop the longing crossdresser within from pushing the boundaries. Just this week, I’ve looked for some bridal white chemises that matched one I long since purged. I had no intention to buy and I saw nothing that matched anyway, but somehow, I had sought a coping mechanism to indulge in one way, shape or form. I was merely reminiscing and regretting all the great lingerie those dratted purged caused to be casually thrown away over the years. Then I think that perhaps it was best all things considered. They may not have stayed hidden as the stash quantity increased anyway!
So anyway, we have the Twitter feed – and I need to tell the world I’ve blogged again. GerryLynn lives – she’s just a little more quieter than she used to be.
And so, I pick myself up, dust myself down, sigh and start all over again.