I finally mustered up the courage to dress once again. I was scared to death to show her what I looked like. Especially in those days when my skills at putting makeup on left a lot to be desired. Not to mention the fact how much I put on and the choice of colors I used. I know that a lot of individuals such as myself tend to go overboard when they first start out. For me I tried so hard to be and look as feminine as possible I actually ended up looking horrible. I looked like a whore more than anything else. Not to knock being a whore down or anything like that. But I must admit it helped relieve some of the massive buildup of tension inside of me. Nevertheless I remained in a deep dark depression. Feeling shame, guilt and anger was the order of the day. My attitude towards everyone and everything remained the same. I was in a living hell going deeper and deeper as the days went by.
Suicide thus entered my life. It seemed the only way to resolve my problem. I was getting very desperate and couldn't think of anything else I could do. Society surely wouldn't accept me as Laurie. There was no way I could bear the humiliation and ridicule I would receive from the public at large if I let Laurie out. I couldn't even admit it to myself. That self-denial thing again. My depression grew and grew more deeply than ever. So, suicide seemed the only way to go. A no-win situation. I had hit an all-time low. Life wasn't important to me anymore. I could do without the guilt, shame, self denial, depression and anger I felt inside. I found myself saying how unfair it was that I got stuck with this crap. I certainly didn't wake up one day and say hey, I want to be a girl and make my life totally miserable. That would be crazy wouldn't it? I'm not crazy, no way!
By this time my wife began to suggest taking me to a mental hospital and seek some help. Being suicidal was making her very concerned and very nervous. I totally refused to talk to anyone about it. There was no way I would reveal my secret to anyone. I didn't feel I needed anyone's help and refused to go. But she kept urging me to go. I finally gave in and went to a mental hospital. My wife did all the talking since I couldn't admit or say anything about me wanting to be a female. No way was I admitting that. But once I heard they wanted to keep me there, I walked right out the front door without stopping.
A few days later I made an appointment at the county run mental health center. With my wife in tow, we went together to my first appointment. She did all the talking for me once again. I hardly said a word. I was scared to death to say anything that would reveal the problem I was having. At that time, nobody really understood even the basics of what it is to be transgendered. Nor the reasons what caused someone to be transgendered.
It took me three months to finally admit to my therapist that I knew I was a girl, not a boy. Besides admitting I needed help and finding help, that was the second hardest thing I had to do in my life. And for months and months after I started I finally said it, but it still took my therapist an arm and a leg to get me to say it again. My therapist had never treated anyone like me, so for her it was a learning process as she struggled to get me to really say how I felt. Looking back on it now, it was one of the best things I ever did. And if my wife had not kept on me to seek professional help, I probably wouldn't be here telling the world my story. I am so grateful for all her support and help she gave me.
Thing started to turn around for me and suicide wasn't so important. My wife helped me buy clothes, makeup, wigs and all that I needed to completely be Laurie. She taught me how to do my makeup, be more conservative in my clothes, and how to act more feminine. We even went out in public a few times and on Halloween night one year, which I will never forget. The waitress said she couldn't have told I was a guy except for the hair on my arms and I actually got asked to dance. The guy was drunk has hell, but it still made me feel good. My mother-in-law was with us too. That was weird, let me tell you. But one fact I left out, and that was I had started drinking every night. Though things seemed much better, I still had a very big problem on my hands. Luckily, after a bitter fight with my parents, I quit. But the problem remained.
Well, I finally finished college and got me a good job. I was dressing as much as time allowed. But the fact remained I couldn't just live part-time as Laurie. Even though I dressed more, I still wanted to live my life full-time as Laurie. As a result, I started in a program that specialized in sex change operations. But a work related injury shot that idea right out the window and I had to withdraw from the program. But I still seemed to be doing better, so I thought.
I was dealing with my problem pretty good. I continued therapy and began to look for reasons why I was like I was. I wanted answers and someone to blame for all the misery I had suffered in my life. I was still in self-denial and this had to be someone's fault. And I wanted to know who and why and give them a piece of my mind. Years later, after finding no one to really blame and no reason why I was like I was, my second marriage came to an abrupt end.
After all the years of my wife telling me she accepted me, it turned out that she did not and once again I was dumped because I was transgendered. Though devastating, I felt I had a good grip on my gender problem and was in complete control of it. After 10 years of therapy I was still in self-denial but able to handle the stress and strain it put on me daily. So I thought. Was I so, so wrong. At least I could dress in the privacy of my apartment when I wanted without worrying if my wife would leave me or not or someone else finding out about me. But I found myself, slipping back once again into a depression. I was dressing but it just wasn't enough for me. I knew more than ever that I was a girl and thought I was starting to accept that fact. Again I was so, so wrong.
Drinking became my number one friend again. Self-denial seemed the order of the day. Suicide entered my mind again also. I was seeing a therapist but it just wasn't helping me out much. Then as luck would have it, I met this girl who worked for the apartments I was living in. We went out on a date and once again my world was about to change. We hit it off really good and continued dating. A month later I moved in with her. I told myself that I was not going to screw this relationship up because of my being transgendered. So, with that in mind, I threw out 10 years worth of female clothing, makeup, shoes, purses and wigs. No way was I going to tell her my inner desires and ruin things between us. This time I was going to make it work, no matter what. Wrong!!! But I'll leave that for the part four of my story.
To be continued........