one copy, refused to read any

more.

The year of serving as an instructor came to an end, and I was sent to Europe, without my wife. I told her that I would send for her as soon as I was able. For about five months we corresponded regularly, but I soon received the impression that she was not planning to join me. It finally boiled down to this: either stop dressing or else! So I wrote back and told her that I had stopped dressing, and to join me. I hadn't lied since what could I do in a barracks full of men? So she soon arrived in Europe and we got an apt and i actually did not dress for a year out of fear that she would leave me. But it finally got to the point where I couldn't hold myself back any longer, and started helping myself to her closet whenever she was out of the apartment. I hated my- self for dressing behind her back, but there seemed to be no other way. I was very careful, and did not allow her to catch me.Since it was impossible for my wife to have children of her own, in 1965 we adopted a two year old German boy. We both wanted children and felt that this was the best solution. We were both very happy to have an addition to the family.

In 1967 I received my dis- charge after six years of service, and we returned to my home- town where we purchased a home. Everything was normal for about nine months. Normal' meaning that still dressed in secret, to prevent my wife from knowing, but in the process,l was making a nervous wreck of myself. It finally reached the point where I could not continue that way, andknew I had to do something to resolve the situa- tion one way or the other. So one night, while my wife was out, put on my best dress,

makeup and wig and waited for het to come home. When she did, she took one look at me and said, "I'll be back in an hour, af- ter you've changed back into your proper clothes and then we'll have a talk." So we had a talk, which lasted most of the night, and accomplished abso- lutely nothing!! Upon my return home from work the next even- ing, i found that she was gone, and taken my son with her!!

The next two days were a nightmare, not knowing where she had gone or what was going to happen. In desperation, I tele- phoned a very close friend of my wife, an older woman she had known for many years and who I had also come to know quite well. She admitted that my wife had telephoned her, and invited me to come over for a talk. I soon discovered that my wife. had not told her the real reason she had left me, and had made up a story about how we "just couldn't get along." Working on the theory that I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, I decided to "tell all" and ask for my friend's help. I can't say that she understood any better than did my wife, but at least she listened as I poured out my story of years of frustration and unhappiness. She finally told me, that, in her opinion, that it would be best if I consulted Psychiatrist who might be able to give me some help. My deep- down feeling was that this would not do any good, but I was ready to do anything which might bring my wife back to me. I still loved her, and thought that if I showed that I was trying to do something about my "prob- lem,"she might return.

So I found a Psychiatrist. Almost a stick-a-pin-in-a-phone- book selection, but not quite. I felt that I just would not be able to talk to a man, so I made sure that I selected a female doctor.

9

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The first session was, of course, the hardest, but it felt good to be able to talk freely to someone who I knew would be able to listen with a professional detach- ment in an uncritical manner. As soon as I was engaged in regular sessions with the Psychiatrist, my wife agreed to return home on a temporary basis until she could determine whether I could be "cured" or not. Since my par- ents knew that she had left me, but not the reason, I asked her to go and talk to my mother and explain the problem that we were having. I felt that it was time that my parents knew, but I had too much shame and guilt in my heart to be able to tell them myself. When I next saw my mother, she told me that my wife had explained everything to her, and she, in turn, had told my father. Mother told me that she and Dad would pay for the visits to the Psychiatrist, and she hoped that he would help me. Never from that day to this has the reason for going to the doc- tor been mentioned, and as far as I can tell, neither of my par- ents have treated me any differ-