Thursday night I didn't feel too great. A few things had triggered my traumas a bit and I was feeling apprehensive about Friday. It's never fun to have something important happen the next day and without you knowing what it is going to bring. I felt down enough to take a sleeping pill, ensuring that I'd at least get a good night's sleep, which I did.
I woke up feeling alright Friday morning. It was an okay day, with dozens of responses from people who had read my article and wished to encourage me or express their respect. I also got a message from someone from the TV show 'Familieberichten' (NCRV), who wished to talk to me. I had a long telephone conversation with her and she'll call me again on Tuesday. It'll be an interesting balancing act the coming weeks if more TV shows and such wish to use my story, as they all want to have it exclusively. Another opportunity to show off my management skills, I guess. I also got two copies of the Vrouw magazine in the mail this day.
Saturday I had a phone call with my mother who told me that the Vrouw magazine becomes available on Friday to subscribers of the Telegraaf newspaper, and on Saturday for everyone else, which was interesting information. It also means that the comments I get are distributed more evenly across a few days, which is nice, I guess. I got a few more comments on this day via my site, Facebook and Hyves accounts and on the Vrouw website itself: http://www.telegraaf.nl/vrouw/actueel/6193790/__Wat_ben_ik__man_of_vrouw___.html?p=7,1
During grocery shopping on Saturday I didn't really expect people to recognize me and/or walk up to me, and they didn't. Well, at least the last part, it's hard to know for sure that someone didn't recognize me if they don't tell me :P It's hard to recognize a random person you know when you're busy with something else, of course. Most people have probably walked past someone they know well without a hint of recognition. It'll be more interesting to see how things go at the pool today, as there I'll be in the same place for a few hours with a group of people. Plenty of time there to recognize someone :)
One comment I got from a girl was kind of weird, by the way, as she said that my interpretation of the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time story somehow dishonoured the musical composition of the game's soundtrack. I emailed her back to ask her what in the world that meant, because I know otherwise it'll keep bugging me. On which note, I realize I haven't been updating that story with new chapters for a while now. I have been burned out on it a bit after I got a string of nasty comments at Hardforum.com involving it.
I also mentioned that I was working on a short educational video on intersexuality, and that I would ask for some help with the production at this Hardforum.com. My thread there got absolutely flamed into the ground, with lots of people complaining that I should stop posting on my IS condition (I only made one earlier thread on it) and that I should stop whining about my condition. There was so much hate in that topic that I just locked it and have abandoned this forum for now. I can't stand absolute jerks.
Saturday morning was a bit tough for me, by the way. I woke up feeling absolutely miserable, a sharp contrast with the mild elation I felt during Friday after the interest I got from that TV show. I was hit with the realization that so far no one has talked about actually solving my primary issue: that of finding answers to my questions. I don't mind talking about my story and issues, but informing others about what it means to be intersexual is definitely a secondary issue for me. Not having any leads on getting answers yet made me feel really terrible, as though nothing matters any more.
I'm tired of having to ignore my body because I don't understand any of it. I'm tired of having to ignore things others do, say, write and act about because I do not understand my body. I'm tired of being embarrassed all the time when I have to identify myself using my ID card and have to explain what is going on.
Why can't I just know what the hell is going on? Why do all the doctors in this country and maybe in the entire world have to be total jerks? Why do I feel like they are lying to me, ignoring me and leading me to the brink of self-destruction?
At times like that Saturday morning things are really tough for me. It's as though I am a different person. I feel no hope, can only see my empty life and meaningless death and completely agree on suicide being the proper course of action. Is it merely a result of this intense frustration I feel at all times? I'm pretty sure of it. Does this mean that my life has been or is in the process of being ruined by those doctors, psychologists and such? You bet.
It feels so terrible to be absolutely dependent on people who couldn't care less about you.