Tuesday was my appointment with my GP. She has set me up for a new appointment with the psychiatrist. This to provide me with emotional support and guidance. I'll see how useful it'll be this time. First of all I have to wait 1-2 months until I get the intake appointment, and with perhaps one appointment each month, it doesn't seem terribly useful, but I'll see.
Issues which can be dealt with other than purely my physical issues include getting some semblance of a feeling of self-worth, plus learning to deal with various traumas, such as those involving my rape, sexual assault and of course sexuality in general. At this point I'm not sure how long I'll be able to hang on to my sanity with the daily assault of unpleasant thoughts and experiences.
I can feel how my nerves are getting more and more frayed, with me ready to lash out physically at anything which gets in the way or somehow annoys me. The nearly continuous sensation of feeling extremely tired emotionally has deepened into sessions of severe headache. Not nearly as bad as the migraines I used to have until a few years ago, but still very unpleasant.
While thoughts on and confrontations with sexuality have upset me for a while already, primarily in the period after my rape, at this point it has gone far beyond just getting upset and moved into the realm of irrational hatred. Just thinking about scenes involving sexuality, I can feel this intense hatred rising up from deep inside me. I feel convinced that what men and women do in intimate acts is wrong and completely evil. Men are vile beasts who only prey on mates to either fool into lowering their defences or merely to downright assault and rape them. Many women aren't much better, possessing only the minimal amount of intelligence, allowing themselves to be used for decorative purposes, to show off with, and to serve as mere breeding machines. It's all so sickening it makes me want to do horrible things, either to myself or to others.
Anyway... Wednesday Pieter and I went into the city for some movie-watching and some others things. We went to see the new X-Men movie: Origins. It was a pretty okay movie, quite on-par with the previous movies (sequels). After the movie we went to the Flevo hospital where I got drained of some blood so that my hormone levels and liver functioning could be tested again. I'll know in just over a week what the results are. It's been about two years ago since this test was last performed. I have been on the same dosage for that time and even ordered new hormone pills last week worth over 330 Euro based on that dosage. If the dosage changes that supply may not last the 6 months I had calculated.
The past weeks my ability to concentrate has been decreasing rapidly. I'm having a hard time focusing, feeling either numb emotionally or completely upset. I haven't cried a lot lately, mostly because it physically hurts to do so, between the pain in my head and the violent surges of pain and frustration which try to get out. The last time I really let myself go was Wednesday, I think... I nearly lost control, leading to what can only be described as absolute hysteria, with my rational side taking a back seat, frantically trying to keep myself from inflicting physical damage. I really do not care to repeat such an experience.
At this point there's very little I still care about. I haven't been to the gym since Monday and I feel little incentive to go again. I just want everything to be over soon... at this rate of emotional degradation I estimate that I have only weeks, possibly a month or two left before I completely snap. The physical pain is already nearly too much to bear, let alone the emotional pain. I'm just so incredibly tired... I'm glad I have those sleeping pills, I just wish I could take one every day instead of only every three.
In the comments to my previous post Jan asked why I would tell people about my 'secret'. Pieter also asked me whether it was wise to inform this girl at the gym about it already. To me, however, the reason is clear; if I pretend to be just a girl, it'll tear me apart inside, just as it did in the past (2006 - 2007), with a friend ultimately urging me to just tell everyone. I now realize that I am not a girl. I'm not a guy either. I'm those few facts I have collected over the years. That is my identity, and I want people to know it, not some fake, made-up fantasy.