Fear...

Today my day started off bad before I even woke up. For the first time ever I got my trauma's triggered while dreaming when a person in the dream mentioned his sex life. It was interesting to feel myself slide off into a depression and run off to find a quiet place while dreaming. Less pleasant was that when I woke up I felt absolutely incredibly depressed, and I mean about on the same level as last Wednesday.

It took me hours to get back to a level where I didn't feel like just stabbing myself through the chest with something sharp or otherwise kill myself. It was the most difficult way to wake up, making a hangover seem like a funny joke, and a definite first for me. Seemingly even in my dreams I'm no longer safe from the suffering and pain real life presents to me. I'm absolutely thrilled to learn this. Seriously.

Today, if everything went right, the MRI images were taken from the first German clinic to the Duisburg one, where they'll start examining them on Tuesday. I feel as though far too much depends on the outcome of their report. If they confirm the previous result, what awaits me is a fight to get my insurer to let me receive treatment in Germany. However, if they do not confirm it, I'm not even sure what I'll do. The least lethal and painful option is probably to lose myself in the por... I mean, adult entertainment industry, where my body would at least have some kind of use and who knows someone will actually look at me to turn me into a full semi-hermaphrodite to maximise my potential and profitability.

I mean, what in the world am I supposed to do if Germany doesn't confirm the first MRI scan report? Get another MRI scan? I don't even have the money for it so unless I get a free one from Privatescan that'd be a dead-end. Here in the Netherlands I can get no specialist to look at me, except perhaps a urologist, who'd probably tell me that all that I think is wrong with me is just in my mind or so. I so bloody hate this stupid, retarded body which has put me through so much hardship and suffering. At this rate I don't even want to look at it, feel it or anything. I'm through with it.

I was going to write something here about physical activity being good against depressions and me getting Wii Fit and going swimming more often because of it, but reading back the above lines I think that I have already made my point. That or I have snapped already and am beyond help.

Forget happiness. It's as real as the gold at the end of the rainbow.


Maya