Yes, I definitely live in two worlds. The split is really odd, though.
I head off to therapy, medical appointments, and electrolysis presenting as myself, with a bit of padding where HRT hasn't had a chance to work yet, and a wig matching my natural hair color to cover the severe pattern baldness. While I'm out, I'll do grocery shopping, get gas for the car, maybe grab breakfast or lunch, occasionally do other shopping, just routine 'getting on with life' stuff. I don't recall being misgendered, and only rarely have I gotten those 'funny looks', as this region is relatively accepting and safe compared to much of 'Western Civilization.'
At home, in private, I have to cross-dress, presenting as male, definitely against my gender identity (and neurology! I've seen the high-res MRI of my brain. It's a girl.

), but in alignment with the bits between my legs

. When I arrive home, I have to check for strange vehicles in our driveway and drive past if someone is there (one of my wife's friends, say). If I can pull into the garage safely, I am to close the garage door before I get out of my little car, then text the wife that I am in the garage. Once she has sequestered herself safely away from the scary transmonster, I get a text that I can enter. I go directly to the master bathroom, and text her when I am in there with the door closed. I have to change at once, scrubbing off all traces of makeup, putting the wig back on it's stand and locking that away in my wig case. Off with my jewelry and pretty things, and back in jeans and polo shirt. I can wear my briefs and tank top under the jeans and shirt, as long as the collar is buttoned so nothing shows. I've gotten away with my Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and occasionally my little black low-top sneakers, but that's about the limit.
How do I handle it? Poorly.
I'm supposed to be happy that I've gotten to spend a couple hours as myself, and should be happy and willing to step back into my cell and pull the barred door shut. I'm selfish for wanting to be myself for a few hours. I resent being the one who has to do all the cooking, cleaning, maintenance, repairs, handle finances, and provide concierge services, all while cross-dressed as male.
I hate saying "I love you" and never hearing anything in return. I hate the look of loathing or contempt I get when I inform my wife of an upcoming appointment. I hate being told I should be grateful for what I have. I hate being told that I look handsome, or am doing well 'for a man my age'.
She's only known about this side of me for four months, but there's been no effort to understand or communicate with me about what I'm going through. She refuses to even look at the little APA brochure on transgender persons. I'm out to her and my daughter who lives with us, but she doesn't want me to come out to my other adult children. She says she is worried that they won't be as accepting as she is.
My therapist can't figure out why the heck I'm still married. Neither can I. It's like an old habit I'm stuck in.
I'm afraid I'm likely to do something really selfish in the near future, like want to have a life.