Freak

Last week I got an invitation in the mail for a family gathering to celebrate the 100th birthday of a grand-grandfather of mine. Included was a list of all his offspring and their offspring, up till today. Browsing the list, my eye fell on the name of the cousin I told about before, the one who has taken her own life a few years ago. To read her name did something inside me. While reading the list I started feeling really uncomfortable, then started crying and everything.

I guess what happened was that to read her name again made me somehow realize that what happened to her was real, that what's happening to me is real, that suicide really isn't an option, but giving up. I am terrible at giving up, but it's so tempting more and more often, yet I don't want to follow my cousin into death. I have always wanted that I could have done something for her, I now wish there was something I could do for myself. Only thing I can think of is to just work, which is what I have been doing the past few days.

On Tuesday I had an appointment with my GP. I wanted to know whether I had anemia or not, and whether my GP could perhaps get into touch with the gynaecologist at the AMC to ask why sending a letter takes so long. Long story short, I don't have anemia, but I have got an appointment with a cardiologist next week Tuesday, and my GP had already received a letter from the AMC while I didn't.

Today I had an appointment with Ms Salvatore at the AMC, gynaecologist, and went to it together with Pieter as support. Main items, the letter my GP had received contained a term which was what they called my 'condition'. My GP couldn't understand, however, and Google turned up empty as well. The term? Autoparagynaecophilia. This is what they think I have got.

Ms Salvatore explained that basically it means that I (auto) like to see myself (philia) as a woman (gynae) even though I am not (para). This is an existing term in sexuology, albeit rarely used. As for the treatment, I have been referred back to the VUMC hospital, where the psychologist or psychiatrist who leads the intersexuality team within the gender team will be treating me. Main issue is that I will have to decide what I want to have done about my body.

Thing is that Ms Salvatore insists that the physical check-up last time indicated that I have no vagina, no mysterious something and no extension of the urine channel. Confusing? You bet. But this is how the cards are lying at the moment. I do think that I'll ask my money back from that German clinic, though...

Emotionally it isn't exactly easy... hearing all this basically confirms for me that I have never been male or female, that I have never had usable sexual organs, and never will have them. I was born a freak and will die a freak. All the thoughts I had that my body was just a female body waiting to be uncovered have been incinerated and the ash scattered by the winds of fate. I'll never know what I am. All people can help me now with is what I want to become.

The real question is whether that question matters enough to me.


Maya