Friday, 12 February 2010

The Path Which May Exist

It's at times like this that I'm not even really sure what the path is I am following, or whether there really is a path. I don't even know where it might lead if it does exist. All I see around me is this barren wasteland with only the memory of life appearing in glimpses around me. Glimpses I may very well just imagine as I put one foot in front of the other, clouds of dust rising with each footstep. I vaguely remember the path behind me, even if my footsteps kilometers behind me already got covered up by dust storms. In front of me and beneath my feet I can only see the same red-brown coloured dust which covers everything as far as I can see. There is no distinct path I'm following, just a feeling that this is the direction to head towards.

I'm alive. That's the only sensation I'm most strongly aware of. Beyond that a desire to change my current situation, to understand, to learn, to gain power. To affect my own fate. Yet I also feel torn between two strong desires, two strong wills, both attempting to steer me into a different direction. I wish I could unite both. I wish I wouldn't have to rid myself of one of them lest they literally destroy me.

My desire to learn about and understand my body has failed. Today I received a communication from the UMCG hospital which confirmed my worst fears; they either can or don't want to offer any further treatment unless I submit myself to the protocol set up for transsexuals. Unless I manage to classify as a transsexual there is nothing they will do. It doesn't matter that I'm intersexual. It doesn't matter that I'm a fellow human being. To the laws and regulations currently in place intersexual people don't exist, ergo I don't exist in the system and nothing can be done for me unless I pretend to be something I'm not. Something I loathe.

Things are going great work-wise at the moment. Thanks to my topic at we got joined by a 3D artist who so far appears to be shaping up to be a tremendous deal of help. He has worked on other projects before, including commercial ones and seems to know how things work. I have high hopes that the Even Cats Dream game can be launched next month.

Yet simultaneously I feel that my emotional side is rapidly degrading at the moment. It feels that it has been betrayed, abandoned and desperately seeks a way out, or some way to justify its existence. There doesn't appear to be any reason for it to exist, as there is no self-image, no deep relationships to maintain, no feelings to share with others who can understand them. Only this hope that things would turn out fine some day. Instead it feels that all options have been nearly exhausted at this point and expects nothing but further disappointments.

I have tried to contact the Mayo clinic in the US to ask for any help with this issue, but unless I'm willing to pay up and visit them in person, they won't even look at my case. Unless some miracle happens after the publication of my article in the 'De Telegraaf' newspaper here, I fear that together with my emotional endurance my options will be exhausted as well.

There's nothing more I expect from the UMCG. I do not wish to continue to beg them for scraps. I will defy any attempts to be classified or to make me pretend to be a filthy transsexual sub-human piece of ****, as I know very well what I am not. I still have pride, I still have this burning desire to learn the truth and this anger I feel inside at the injustice I have been served the past years will keep me going even if I should have long since fallen apart inside, as it has kept me going for the past years.

What is next? I honestly don't know, but somewhere, somehow I'll find the path.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Comment on your Twitter-entry:
it would be cruel not to tell him in advance.