I Couldn't Take It
|Image from Adam Jicha |
The process of completing my male to female gender transition admittedly took me many many years. Over fifty to be exact and the whole process took a toll on me.
During the time, I experienced many peaks and valleys on my way to living my ultimate dream. My attempt was to try different scenarios to see if I could pass successfully as a woman in the public's eye. As I said, I experienced many failures and returned home to cry my eyes out. Through it all, I was still determined and kept going back to the cross dressing drawing board to try harder. Thankfully, the more I tried (and learned) the better I became at my presentation. The better I became, the more I wanted to try.
From that point, the better I became at being transgender, the better my chances of trying to live a fulltime life as a transgender woman became. The problem was my entrenched male self was fighting every gender move I made. He did his best to discourage me and did it well. After all, he had a lot to lose. Such as an entire life he had worked hard to create. Friends, family and employment were all at stake. So the pressure was intense to somehow stay the course and try to live a life stuck firmly between the two primary binary genders.
The problem was when I was living the life of a transgender woman, I felt increasingly natural. I had a deep seated feeling all was right in my gender world for a change. The process should have brought about a welcome change, when in fact it was causing extra pressure. As much as I tried to avoid it, I could see ahead I would have to make serious decisions in my life. If I was ever able to salvage what was left of my mental health. Dealing with the pressure had led me down the road to self destructive behaviors including suicide. After my suicide attempt, I made a very unhappy decision. I decided to purge (or get rid of) most all of my feminine belongings, grow a beard and live fulltime as a guy. The whole process was designed to please my second wife who told me any number of times she didn't sign up to live with another woman. You regulars know within a year after I purged, she passed away unexpectedly from a massive heart attack at the age of fifty.
At that point my life entered a new stage of being totally alone. Between wife one and two, I had been steadily married since when I was in the military approximately thirty years before .Through my tears, I reached out to my feminine inner self for comfort. Off came the beard and on came the makeup as I set out to rebuild what was left of my life. It took awhile for my confidence and mental health to improve as I was suddenly able free to explore a world I had only ever just dreamed of. The pressure was relieved and I could finally enjoy where I was headed again and I could take it. I didn't want to self destruct.