~~~ The Tranny Rollercoaster ~~~

Back to basics. This blog was supposed to give the casual reader an insight into the tranny world but recently has descended into parody and humour. Well, we're back with a vengeance, because I'm just entering that wonderful downturn on the rollercoaster of tranny life known as the "purge" cycle.

For the non-TG reader, this is a staple part of tranny existance, where social conformity pressures gain the upper hand resulting in self-loathing, depression, guilt, anxiety and a throwing-away of all things femme - clothing, makeup, the lot. I don't know what it correlates with: whether secretive married dressers experience the purge in a more severe fashion, etc (I'm neither). I'm fairly sure that the purge is an externalisation process, where the act of discarding material possessions is symbolic of getting rid of the internal pressures, guilt, loathing etc. Of course it doesn't work: that sort of behaviour is more properly known as "sympathetic magic". Anyway: the desire to cross-dress always returns, leading to new purchases of clothes and makeup. And so the great cycle continues, and shopkeepers rub their hands with glee.

It's an odd phenomena, and I don't think it's associated with things like Bulemia Nervosa (binge eating). A tranny might only have a couple of attacks in her life, so I think it's more like earthquakes: pressure builds up, then is released in a destructive few moments. There may be lesser quakes; I seem to suffer from the self-doubt variety (when I can be heard muttering to myself "I'm such a crap tranny"). This time seems to be up to 5 on the tranny Richter scale.

I thought I might as well blog it; mostly trannies won't because it's so painful. Right now, I'm in a particularly self-destructive mood, so what the heck (remember: self-loathing). Perhaps you'll see a bit closer into the tranny world. Maybe you're a tranny and will remember this when you get into your own purge cycle, and it will lessen the pain somewhat (and that is homeopathic magic). Definitely don't throw away your dresses. Give them to another deserving tranny; let's try to minimise the earthquakes, shall we? Causes of today's little shock? It started off with that sudden twinge of loneliness the day before yesterday, but a double-whammy sent me over the edge.

Firstly, one of my two vanilla friendhips (only two? How sad) came over for the first time in months, but things were strained. She accused me of being "bland" (a tranny? BLAND?), and felt we'd gone in different directions. In a sense she's right: I've become a lot less pig-headed and opinionated over the past few months. And becoming Gemma has been a pretty major life changing event. She can talk; she's had her head buried up her arse while working every hour God sends, and that drains the personality. Well, I can't and won't go back to the old me just because she's scared of change, so it looks like one old friendship is about to die.

Then, my other set of vanilla friends told me that after careful thought, they felt really uncomfortable about me being Gemma and would prefer it if I kept it seperate. Now, I can understand this. It's still rejecting, because they were the one set of people I was sure wouldn't have an issue with it because of things in their own life. We both realise that this uneasiness is going to diminish our friendship. We're both very social, except I'm social as Gemma. I wanted to make them a part of this life, and it looks like this isn't to be. So there won't be that many opportunities going forward when I'll be in boy mode and able to see them.

I feel like I've just lost the only friends I have in the vanilla world. One good tranny friend is off abroad. Another two aren't answering mails, no doubt in their own purge/depression cycles. All seems black, doom and gloom, etc. Gentle reader, if you were ever wondering why the NHS insists on psychological assessment of TS's, it's because in this state you get a wild sort of recklessness about you. Post-op? Why not, it's not as if the male genitalia are of any particular use except for peeing standing up. Maybe I'll have a happier existance as a girl; hell, a lot of people seem to want to be my friend when I'm Gemma, judging by the trans-dating sites. You might also be able to tell: I've had quite a lot of people saying that I'm obviously TS, and they expect me to transition in the next three years. Well, f*ck it, maybe I just will.

It's at times like this that I feel grateful for some core personality traits: honesty and bloody-mindedness. I know that high follows low (which is why it's a cycle) so it's all about waiting this burst of depression out. Throwing clothes away won't help, unless it's to improve the quality of my wardrobe. I know I'm not TS (yet), so shall treat the pre-op comments as a sort of praise or affirmation that, yes, I do have a very feminine side that is expressed so well as myself (Gemma). Friends come and go; it's painful, but inevitable. Can't stop change, so just live with it, love those who need to move on, and welcome new opportunites. Carry on being who I feel I really am. Doing a "Calvin's Dad" on myself here, this is all "character-building" (though I feel that trannies have more than enough character, thank you very much).

So please excuse me. I'm now off to purge my wardrobe. Not of lovely girly clothes but (being bloody-minded) of crap boy-mode clothing from M&S etc. As Gemma I'm a nicer person (honesty coming out here), so I should spend more time as her even if my friends can't cope. I get the psychological release of throwing things away, of making a positive change in my life. And it will free up some space to buy some more frilly dresses.