(no subject)
Tuesday, 7/19/16
I'd been out of work for some time, so even though it wasn't the type of work I was accustomed to doing, I finally took a job in the timber industry. It being rather a physical job, it was harder work than I was used to. As a result, after a hard day at work, I was so exhausted I'd collapse into bed and sleep deeply until it was time to go back to work again. At first that was all I could do-- work and sleep.
After a while, I built up my stamina so I could do other things, and I ventured outside of my closed little world. I had Wednesdays off, so that's when I would do my laundry, some shopping, and stop by the local bakery for some biscuits I could have for breakfast each day. I also packed my lunches for the week, because when you're out in the forest, you can't go somewhere else to grab a bite.
Working in the forest was wonderful, usually, but sometimes if you were working off by yourself, things could get a bit strange, as though you'd slipped into a parallel universe. I'd see things I'd never seen before, like unusual creatures. Once in a while, I'd run across plants that seemed from another planet, and I'd put them into my lunch box, to preserve when I got home. I could never get close enough to any of the strange creatures though, and in many cases, I did not want to.
The work was so unlike anything I'd ever done before, that it began to affect me. For one thing, I'd previously always worked in an environment with a mixture of men and women. But now I was exclusively working around men. Men who were aggressively and annoyingly hyper-masculine, as though they were trying to overcompensate for something.
I missed women, and to be sure, I am a man's man, but perhaps it was an act of rebellion against the cloud of testosterone that surrounded me at work. One Wednesday when I was off, I purchased a woman's bra, and began wearing it to work under my shirt. It seemed to counteract some of the crude and course behavior that hammered at me for most of the work week. It provided me with a degree of relief and even comfort.
Eventually, it was not enough though. I didn't think about what I was doing, nor can I explain it even to myself, but things gradually escalated, and began getting quite out of hand, to the point where I began dressing entirely as a woman and going to bars where I hoped I wouldn't be recognized. This is a time in my life which I do not care to recall or relate. Everything I did then was impulsive and instinctive-- without thought or self-reflection.
As the months passed, and the holidays finally rolled around, I finally returned home to be with my family. They could tell something was different, and they began cajoling me for an explanation. This was the first time I actually thought about what had been going on, and yet I was still at a loss for words. The only explanation I could offer them was, "I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay."
.
I'd been out of work for some time, so even though it wasn't the type of work I was accustomed to doing, I finally took a job in the timber industry. It being rather a physical job, it was harder work than I was used to. As a result, after a hard day at work, I was so exhausted I'd collapse into bed and sleep deeply until it was time to go back to work again. At first that was all I could do-- work and sleep.
After a while, I built up my stamina so I could do other things, and I ventured outside of my closed little world. I had Wednesdays off, so that's when I would do my laundry, some shopping, and stop by the local bakery for some biscuits I could have for breakfast each day. I also packed my lunches for the week, because when you're out in the forest, you can't go somewhere else to grab a bite.
Working in the forest was wonderful, usually, but sometimes if you were working off by yourself, things could get a bit strange, as though you'd slipped into a parallel universe. I'd see things I'd never seen before, like unusual creatures. Once in a while, I'd run across plants that seemed from another planet, and I'd put them into my lunch box, to preserve when I got home. I could never get close enough to any of the strange creatures though, and in many cases, I did not want to.
The work was so unlike anything I'd ever done before, that it began to affect me. For one thing, I'd previously always worked in an environment with a mixture of men and women. But now I was exclusively working around men. Men who were aggressively and annoyingly hyper-masculine, as though they were trying to overcompensate for something.
I missed women, and to be sure, I am a man's man, but perhaps it was an act of rebellion against the cloud of testosterone that surrounded me at work. One Wednesday when I was off, I purchased a woman's bra, and began wearing it to work under my shirt. It seemed to counteract some of the crude and course behavior that hammered at me for most of the work week. It provided me with a degree of relief and even comfort.
Eventually, it was not enough though. I didn't think about what I was doing, nor can I explain it even to myself, but things gradually escalated, and began getting quite out of hand, to the point where I began dressing entirely as a woman and going to bars where I hoped I wouldn't be recognized. This is a time in my life which I do not care to recall or relate. Everything I did then was impulsive and instinctive-- without thought or self-reflection.
As the months passed, and the holidays finally rolled around, I finally returned home to be with my family. They could tell something was different, and they began cajoling me for an explanation. This was the first time I actually thought about what had been going on, and yet I was still at a loss for words. The only explanation I could offer them was, "I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay."
.