The Times, They Are A-Changing

So, anyone who has been reading lately, has probably figured out that I've been in a manic phase, as evidenced by my sudden daily postings ... after months of inactivity.  I've even created associated Google and Twitter accounts.  Several of the recent posts have revolved around sexuality, and been written in a somewhat explicit manner.  I hope I haven't offended anyone.  I'm just trying to be as open and honest as I can possibly be.  Ha Ha, open and honest!  Isn't that a funny thing for a secret woman to say while writing a secret journal?

Anyway, the times they are a changing.  I started feeling a little different about two days ago.  My husband and I have been skipping the hot sex, and have just been snacking, and watching television, until we fall asleep.  Yesterday I found that I couldn't concentrate on a blog post. It didn't matter much because I didn't really feel much like writing anyway.  


I was also quite irritable, as I had some errands to run, and my anxiety about leaving the house is kicking up.  This particular anxiety acts up from time to time.  Many years ago, the second in a short line of psychiatrists thought she had hit the nail on the head by diagnosing me with Agoraphobia, after a mere two visits.  Well, considering my behavior at that time, I guess it was a reasonable assumption, but that's a story for another time.   


I happen to think it's quite a rational anxiety, considering that I'm embarking on an adventure in transitioning.  Part of it has to do with my inability to concentrate.  As opposed to my regular, slightly dizzy personality, during this time I become sort of childlike ... as in feeling meek and lost in this great big scary world.  It takes all of willpower, not to operate the vehicle, but to remember where I'm going and how to get there.  I had a moment, while staring at items on a shelf at the grocery store, when I began to panic at the random thought that I might not even be fully dressed.  Don't worry, I was.  With thoughts like that, isn't it reasonable that I would just want to stay home?


By the time I got back home, I was snapping at the kids, and then having to come up with reasons why.  "You didn't clean the microwave".  I could have just explained the situation to them, but even they know all about my issues, I think they forget, because I'm pretty good at keeping it all together.  At least on the outside.       


I wish I could just stay in my safe place, and spend the next few weeks nestled down in my comfort zone.