Monday, 28 May 2018

Vlog: Flying and soaring, or...

  • On getting evicted.
  • Maybe a new job and moving.
  • Working on my autobiography, part I.


Wednesday, 16 May 2018

Being evicted next month

Today I had my psychotherapist guide me through the findings of the court in the eviction case against me. The news is pretty bad. Not only did the landlord get the okay to evict me without any further pause after the appeal period ends early next month. I will also have to pay a considerable fine. The total amount that I may stand to pay including lawyer costs and such would be about 10,000 Euro.

Naturally I have made use of the appeal option, with my therapist writing a new report on my psychological state because the first one got rejected on account of being 'too old' and 'not reflective of my current state'. This letter makes it again very clear that an eviction at this point would likely lead to strong suicidal feelings and a likely new attempt.

As during the therapist appointment I suddenly... seized up and found myself convulsing on the floor on account of the flood of emotions, after first resisting the urge to claw open my own throat, I would agree with this assessment. I'm barely holding things together as is.

It seems that the court here has managed to not only ignore the available evidence, but has made no effort to consider my fragile psychological state, or my unique position as a minority (intersex). All of this over a lack of communication from the landlord's site that led to me continuing paying 10% less rent as agreed. All I got were bills with increasing fines, with my attempts to communicate going ignored.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I really hope that I can soon get that new job and move to the UK. With all of the negative things that are going on at this point I'm not sure how much longer I can keep things up. I'm longing so much for a normal life, working an interesting job, having a pleasant home and hanging out with friends. Also receiving psychotherapy to deal with my PTSD, this time without living in an environment which just worsens said PTSD.

Maybe coming to Germany was a mistake after all.


Tuesday, 15 May 2018

The child, the adult, the tears

The child who's crying in the dark room, as the sound of the angry man's voice still reverberates in their mind. The sensation of adult hands painfully clasping around their limbs and grasping at their body remains, as does the realisation of being all alone in the world. None of this is right. None of this will get better.

The same person, years later, finding themselves back in that same room. Crying. Feeling the pain all over, as they anticipate the next act of violence. What can one do but submit oneself to those adults? You're just a child. They know better. They have the strength.

Dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder is... well, you're not really dealing with it. Especially for childhood traumas it's just something that is there. It's become such an integral part of who and what you are that it's almost inconceivable that you can ever change.

I know that all of those horrible things which I remember, all of those sensations, that they are a thing of the past. That those adults who hurt and harmed me can no longer do so.

Yet today as I got the conclusion in the eviction case against me, I'm right back in that dark room, crying and feeling violated. I haven't even looked at it beyond the summary provided by my lawyer, and I'm already in such a state. I will have to wait until tomorrow, to read through it together with my psychotherapist. It's too dangerous for me to do it by myself.

Even though I already know from the summary that I can stay in this apartment, just nothing about any fines yet, it's not about those details. It's about the experience, of being dragged through the mud for two years, of having my integrity as a person question and having felt terrified for all that time that something horrible might happen to me any day now. Of feeling adrift and uncertain about my future.

If there's a bright spot in all of this it has to be that my search for a new job may have resulted in me scoring something pretty close to a dream job. Next week I'll be flying over for an on-site assessment. With any luck I'll not only get the job, but also assistance with finding and moving to a new home.

I'm honestly looking forward to this, and the positive impact it would have on my psyche. In some ways it'd feel like a little bit of justice still exists in this world.


Monday, 14 May 2018

A person's path to happiness

Surging blackness, coursing through one's mind
Overwhelming pain that blinds one to reality.
Just this feeling of bleakness,
The futility of existence.

Glimpses of other people, living
Lives which are so easy and filled
With carefree attitudes, which
Brush off anything negative in life

Sorrow using its razor-sharp claws
Tears apart the very essence of who and
What I am, until nothing remains but
A shadow of who I once thought I was.

Nothing left but these tears which flow down
My blood-streaked face, but whose blood?
I do not know anything, it's all
A blur, all of my memories.

Warmth, the promise of happiness,
A care-free life, free of this endless
Suffering that makes every one of
My smiles seem fake, like plastic.

Could I truly be permitted,
Feel this terror subside,
Embrace a sensation of safety,
Even if it's just an illusion?

I see others, smiling
Laughing and dancing with
Hearts that are unburdened by
The tragedy of existence.

This horrible feeling that once
I could have been like them.
No more, paradise lost, innocence
Perished in a dark alleyway.

Yet I smile, laugh, even though
It hurts so much inside.
Telling myself that it's much worse
Inside the confines of my thoughts.

There will always be sunlight,
Happy people, laughing and dancing.
There will always be darkness,
Sad people looking from behind bars.

Some people cannot be happy, as
It is not permitted for everyone
To be happy, to maintain
The tragedy of existence.

These bars I find myself behind,
Are they of my own making?

Happy memories of sunshine, of walking
Barefooted on grass, looking forward
To a long Summer holiday, fondly recalling
What seems like a torturous lie.


        A sun-shaded path.
A promise, far away.
Walking barefoot on
A gravel-strewn path.
Any day now.

        Ignoring my blood,
        Splattered on the path
        Behind me.
Almost there.


Saturday, 12 May 2018

The big talk on intersex: video now online

Yesterday was my talk at the Gulaschprogrammiernacht as announced in my previous post. The video recording [1] of the talk is now also available for your viewing pleasure:

The slides can be downloaded or viewed online [2].



Sunday, 6 May 2018

My big talk on intersex next week

Next week here in Karlsruhe, Germany, the 18th installment of the so-called Gulaschprogrammiernacht (Goulash Programming Night, GPN18) [1] will kick off on Thursday with a large number of talks and workshops over its four day duration [2]. For this year I also submitted a talk, which got accepted [3]. I'll be holding that talk on Friday the 11th.

Not a big shocker is that this talk will be on intersex, but not just that topic. My goal with this talk is to let people see how being intersex gradually became a part of my life, with technology - and particularly the internet - allowing me to stay more or less sane throughout the whole ordeal that would follow after the initial discovery. I'll be holding the talk in English, and it will be recorded for later public viewing as well [4].

In some ways holding a talk like this is more difficult than just going on a live talkshow with millions watching. With the latter you can just wobble into the studio, act all cool, respond to the questions of the host(s) with flair and grace, get that standing ovation and wobble out of the studio again while feeling pretty good about yourself. Oh, and the make-up session beforehand. Love those.

When you do your own talk, it is you who has to prepare everything, plan the time, schedule and ready any images, slides and other materials. And then improvise nearly an hour of chattering about a really big topic without tripping up, technical issues, stuttering, awkwardness or sudden unscheduled rapid descents off any stairs or platforms.

So basically I'll be totally fine :)

Only thing which I'm not really looking forward to is receiving the judgement on the (baseless) eviction case against me on Wednesday. Things like that do not really help improve one's mood, to be honest. My hope there is that it's not such a bad judgement, so that I can take a relieved feeling to the talk on Friday, along with a positive result from the next chat with someone from Amazon earlier next week.

I can kind of picture this as my last hurrah in Germany before I declare my efforts to receive medical care as an intersex person a loss and move on to greener pastures with a new job, advancing my career and possibly building up those crucial contacts I need to sort out the last remaining issues from my life as a nobody.

Would make for a great film, at least.

*Scribbles down some notes for her autobiography~*



Saturday, 14 April 2018

Glimpses of a normal life

This whole intersex/medical thing is something which is like an annoying mosquito: even if you want it to just go away, it keeps coming back. Ignoring it will just let it get you in a different, nastier way. Me trying to ignore the chronic pain for a bit didn't work out so well. Since a few days it's back to the burning right side, numb and painful right leg and arm, along with the terrible abdominal pains, distended abdomen and lack of appetite.

Current suspicion is something like imperforate hymen [1] resulting in something like peritonitis [2], which would explain the distension of the abdomen and pains, along with the rest of the symptoms.

Even though I have been experiencing such pains for many years now, there has been very little interest from doctors. After the laparoscopy, two months ago, and the prompt dismissal by the gynaecologist of my problems being gynaecological in nature, there only really seems one plausible option for me to proceed, namely undergoing an examination by a proctologist.

To this end I have made an appointment for such an examination, scheduled for the end of next month. This will mostly focus on examining where the occasional bright red blood comes from, and whether signs of an anal fissure can be seen. If issues are found, then some kind of treatment will follow. It's unlikely that this will in any way detect the reasons for the abdominal bloating and pain, let alone fix it.

Despite the chronic pain and the way it drains me off the will to continue living, I have to keep believing that there is a way out of this situation.

Medically I can basically just wait for something to go wrong. If it is in fact peritonitis, then sepsis is a possible complication. Until then I am forced to continue with things as if nothing is wrong.

Currently this entails waiting for the results in the eviction case, which will likely see me being forced to find a new place to live along with a draining of my financial resources, seeking a new job and doing job interviews, writing a new reference book for Packt on embedded C++ development, along with stumbling ahead with my autobiography.

I so desperately want to believe that things can and will get better. That I will find a place to live where I am actually happy to be, that I'll find a job or occupation that will make me feel useful and appreciated.

That there'll be an end to this endless, merciless pain in my abdomen that makes my life into a literal living hell.

Along the way I keep meeting others who think that I will make it, who support me and want the best for me. It's tough for me to think about how I feel about life and existence in general. After more than thirteen years of doctors and psychologists treating me like trash, of suffering all types of physical, psychological and sexual abuses, along with incarnation and attempting suicide, I feel that I have tried just about anything that I can think of to make my life better, yet with me only getting punished for my efforts.

I also hate feeling like a victim.

I'm a victim of many uncaring, vile people. True. Yet there are other people out there. People who are so incredibly positive and supportive. People whose optimism I fear that I cannot live up to. Like this one person whom I met on Quora a while ago, and who has been doing his utmost to cheer me up, even going to the trouble of getting me better Japanese dictionaries than the ones I had, so that I have more fun doing translation work and generally using Japanese. To make my life that little bit brighter and more joyful.

There's also my best friend, who has been there for me during almost the entirety of those thirteen years. Despite his own problems, he always tries to be there for me, to cheer me up and make me see the brighter side of life. I'm not sure I could have made it this far without him and other essential people in my life, such as my mother.

I feel that I have to get out of this dark shadow of my medical issues and the horrors of living in German run-down apartments owned by vile landlords. That's all that is keeping me down and so unhappy. There is a way out of this. I just don't know how to reach it yet.

Just need to survive a little bit longer, I hope.