One of my previous entries at this time of year has been ‘Crappy New Year‘ – an indication perhaps of the effects that a change of year has on quite a lot of us I would guess.
There has been a distinct change to my approach to crossdressing as 2018 drew to a close. I recall a previous remark along the lines that I was almost reluctant to get into the lingerie yet still did.
The end of 2018 saw a clear ‘ramping up’ of sexual exploration, of bi-curious tendencies, of explicit converation via social media messaging, of posting of explicit photographs and videos but conversely, an acknowledgement that perhaps the track I was on really wasn’t the right one, both clear display and recognition of deceitful traits, more blatant than ever before, in the company of those closest to me.
Last week, the pendulum of moods was swinging. One way, indulging as per usual, the other, the complete opposite, no intent whatsoever to indulge in any way, shape or form.
Bizarrely, there was one day when I didn’t dress nor wear a chastity device, yet the items were available to me in the man bag as I went about the business of the day job. The day wore on as I began remonstrating with myself that, somehow, I should be locked up.
Why? Goodness only knows, but the mood continued, and eventually, I nipped off to the gents and locked myself up in the holy trainer before returning to my desk and seeing the afternoon out in a slightly more contented mood.
Anyway, back to last week. The night before, I had immersed myself so deeply in my apparent sexual persuasions that I hatched a plan to indulge in dressing in a black lingerie set and of using a dildo against a mirror, all whilst locked up in the holy trainer chastity device.
The plan was duly hatched the following day, despite there being no time, despite there being a need to get off to work, despite a need to have breakfast and make some lunch before I went, despite the need to catch a train etc.
Filming it all, didn’t really go to plan, yet the footage remained on my smart phone device for the time being. Inside, I craved a sexual peak, arguing with myself that it probably wasn’t the best thing I could do, given how I tend to feel afterwards, yet I pushed on.
Sure enough, with no further urges to anything else in the immediate aftermath, the lingerie and chastity device was removed, the detritus of condom wrappers, boxes, sex toys and other items of relevance were cleared away as applicable and that was it.
Since then, there has been a sort of brightness in my stride, I have seemed somehow more relaxed, more at ease, more likely to apply myself to something else and in all honesty, I have done.
I haven’t even been on Fiona’s social media presences, most notably – Twitter. Sure, this is abandoning the ongoing DMs with my chastity keyholder and others than I pledged to offer support and friendship to, and is in the wake of somewhat irrationally signing up to a chastity website which seems to have little substance or membership.
The mindset has turned to opportunities that might present themselves to bundle all of the crossdressing paraphernalia, toys and outfits together and return them to the aforementioned ‘remote’ storage location.
I am, of course, mindful that this could be a mere blip and something might trigger a fall back in to the embracing arms of crossdressing, much as happened all too frequently before. Just this morning, whilst dressing, I admired the smoothness of my recently waxed chest and my fairly hair-free body, just as I like it, and for a moment or so, pondered as to whether being this way just for comfort was enough for my inner psyche.
I didn’t really get an answer together, instead, throwing myself into applying deodorant, creams and potions as applicable, then daytime clothes, then applying myself into the activities of another all too likely quickly disappearing weekend, no lingerie, no chastity, no intention.
What is it that has led to what I have often described on social media as a ‘mindf**k’? Plain and simply, a change of year – no more, no less. There have been instances this week when I concluded to myself that the earlier indecision had been a temporary blip and that I was back on track with my crossdressing.
However, the unavoidable guilt felt after orgasm post-anal has been a bitter pill to swallow yet again. I have blogged before about keeping a lid on reaching such peaks during indulgences, hence the self-imposed partial chastity, but being brought to one’s senses as part of a come-down from reaching ever heightening sexual peaks and overtones, is beginning to resonate a lot more than it did before.
When I stopped crossdressing last time, one of the driving forces was that I didn’t want to perceive myself as becoming a ‘dirty, sad old man’ and this very thought has been in my head again in the last few days. I’m pushing 50 for goodness’ sake.
I have some good things going on in my life and I have also set myself some new year resolutions, some already in draft form before the turn of the year, and now being put into place.
My inbox has given me indications of things that I need to be doing now, soon or later this year, and there are other things in my mind to apply similarly. None, or little of those things will be done, if I cannot shake myself off what is a rather intense, all controlling addiction.
It’s probably relevant to place another of those lines in here that many have said, many times historically since goodness only knows when I started this thing. “If it’s not hurting anyone….”.
What if it is hurting me somehow? It must be hurting others too indirectly. If this thing is on my mind as much as it is – there is no ‘if’ about it really – then surely anyone holding something in without being able to adequately talk about it to anyone to any significant and/or helpful lengths, must find that their mood and behaviour impacts on others, or that my actions impact on other things that one day might blow up in my face.
I’m going to have to see how long this cessation and mindset lasts. For now, the clock has stopped. The pendulum has swung, but for now at least, it swings no more.