Sunday, 25 December 2011

Contemplating On A Merry XMas

Around this time last year the situation at the previous place where I lived was reaching a climax, with my then housemate and I pretending that things were fine while we were unpacking the XMas gifts under the tree. It was a forced charade which quickly worsened as my now ex-housemate and the girl (now one of my stalkers) he was dating back then putting more and more pressure on me to make me leave the place, and to humiliate and degrade me by insisting that I wasn't intersex but a crazy guy and other unpleasantness.

Early January the constant bullying led to me taking an overdose of sleeping pills. I will never forget the incredible peace I felt while I was swallowing them down with some water. Before I did all that I had brushed my hair and done my usual morning chores in the full realization that it would be the very last time I would ever do that. The last time I would see my face in the mirror. The last time I would brush my hair. The last time I'd worry about the condition of my skin. I do not remember passing out.

Waking up in the hospital afterwards was the most horrible experience ever, though I didn't realize this until the next day when the effects of the sleeping pills had worn off. I wanted to go back so badly to that peaceful feeling while I was taking those sleeping pills.

Since that suicide attempt things have changed, some good (surgery in Germany) others bad (beaten up by police for no reason and suffering permanent health consequences). Looking back I can't say that my life on the whole has significantly improved. Moving on from the medical madness I have now entered into the legal madness as I try to come to grips with what in heaven's name has happened to me and why those Dutch physicians and psychologists felt the need to abuse and torture me like that. I still don't understand it one bit, nor do I understand why the police felt the need to hurt me inside and outside.

When I did the interview with Sarah Hill a few days ago she paraphrased from part of my blog:

"Above all I know, I feel, I realize, I am aware, I am pained, I want to run away from the fact that I am a freak.

Maybe I'm not a freak, but I can not convince myself that I am not. The questions of what I am and what my place in society is are too strong and too fundamental to be shoved aside, or answered with external help.

This morning I did manage to take a shower even though it's still hard to see my own body in a mirror. It's my own small victory. For a brief moment."

I think that with this bit Sarah really captured what lies at the heart of my struggles. I can not accept myself nor my situation and my environment has to help me with this, while it isn't capable of doing so.

The past weeks I have had to state what I think about social networks like Google+ and how they have and are helping me. I will admit that Google+ has led to some useful contacts, resulting in the interview with Sarah Hill, but as a whole it's mostly negative. There are some people on Google+ who are suffering from an inflated ego and have hurt me by being ignorant. Yesterday and earlier today I had to leave a video chat Hangout on Google+ because they were talking rather vulgarly about sexuality, setting off my traumas. It makes me feel like I'm just a small, hurt child at those moments.

Last Friday I was returning from an appointment in the nearby city of Deventer when I was waiting to cross a busy road. I found myself wondering how much damage those speeding cars could do to my body if I jumped in front of one. With a cold, analytical and emotionally detached feeling I imagined how it'd crush my bones and probably leave me crippled.

I don't think I have progressed much from that moment in early January of this year. I still search for that peaceful feeling, the feeling that everything is finally the way it should be. I'm not sure I'll find it anywhere but in death.

Merry XMas.


Friday, 23 December 2011

Aftermath Of My U_News Interview With Sarah Hill

The news story can be found on the KOMU 8 website:

"MID-MISSOURI - Maya Posch shared her story on U_News Thursday. She is an intersex individual trying to raise awareness about people who are born neither male nor female. Maya says people often make the mistake of calling "intersex" individuals "transsexual". Posch says she will remain intersex and is blogging about her experience caught between the lines of male and female. Posch lives in the Netherlands where she says her condition is listed as a "disorder". She disagrees with that classification. You can watch her video clip below or read about her situation on her blog at"

First part of the interview:

Second part of the interview:

The backstage video:


Thursday, 22 December 2011

My Interview On U_News With Sarah Hill

As posted [1] by Sarah Hill on Google+ yesterday:

"Thursday on U_News, we'll interview +Maya Posch . Maya was born Intersex. This is an issue people in Missouri hear very little about on their local news. Maya is sharing her story in hopes that others like her can find support and information they need.
You can watch U_News streaming on Google Plus at 4pm Central Time in the US or watch it on TV in Columbia, MO on +KOMU 8 News .......or watch online and chat with Maya behind the scenes of the newscast here."

I will be online around 10.40 PM my time (UTC+1) for the pre-show checks. The interview itself will take a few minutes. Definitely looking forward to this interview, and hoping that more media attention will result from it. Props to Sarah Hill and US journalists in general as they seem to be the most open about and interested in this topic.



Wednesday, 21 December 2011

Laughing Out Loud, While I'm Crying Inside

Quick news updates: I got an email from my lawyer regarding the lawsuit, it's taking a while because she had to work through the massive file, and her medical adviser now has to work through the same file, while trying to find specialists who can advise but whom are not involved with the hospitals mentioned in my file. This means that no one associated with the VUMC, UMCG, Erasmus or AMC hospitals can advice, or simply put most of the major hospitals in the Netherlands. I'm supposed to get feedback from my lawyer on what the medical adviser decides during early January next year. I'm still waiting for updates on the legal gender change from my other lawyer.

I had an article on social networks published at Media Tapper [1], recorded the SociologG+ video I put on my blog a few days ago, and tomorrow I have an interview on Sarah Hill's show about my story, which gets broadcast locally in Missouri and also via Google+ and other places.

I also applied at Nokia a while ago, as a Technical Writer for the Qt framework. Yesterday I had my first interview for it and it went quite well. Got two more interviews coming up, first another one by phone, then one in-person. If everything goes well I could have said job by February next year and be moving to Oslo, Norway.

I'm having major issues with my right knee at the moment, with severe swelling and numbness only kept in check with regular icing and 1,800 mg of ibuprofen a day. I initially got an appointment with a specialist for it on February 6th, but got it changed to December 30th. Before it I'll have an X-ray. I'll probably need an MRI scan and possibly surgery depending on the results. A cracked meniscus seems quite likely, with the police beating in May this year the likely cause.

Moving on, things seem to be moving in the right direction, yet I can't seem to shake off this crushing feeling of unease. When sitting in a Google+ Hangout (video chat in a group), I often notice myself laughing out loud and acting normal, yet it's like I'm watching someone else. I don't feel happy inside, or 'normal'. It's as though I'm two people: an inside and an outside one. The inside one tries to show itself, but it's hard to do.

The inside person is the PTSD, the DID, the other traumas. It cries and feels miserable. It longs and is denied. Sometimes things invert and the inside person becomes the outside person, which is when everyone can see it. It's however a horrible and terrifying thing. I can not possibly face what has happened to me and what is still happening. It's too big, too major, too terrifying, too incomprehensible. Just touching the frayed, shadowy edges of this terrible blob inside makes me so scared that death seems preferable to confronting it.

I hope that through telling my story via the media, like what Sarah Hill is allowing me to do tomorrow, I can finally deal with those traumas, and cause positive things to happen for both me and others.



Saturday, 17 December 2011

My SocioloG+ Talk

Video I recorded for +SocioloG+ at Google+, talking a bit about how Google+ plays a role in my attempts to make my story known.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

Once A Freak, Always A Freak

It's already light outside when I open my eyes, gradually waking up from a deep sleep. Barely remembered scenes from dreams flit through my mind as a leaden weariness creeps upon me. Today I'm waiting again for news from my lawyers but likely won't hear anything. Today I'll trying to focus on my work again, even though it's hard to imagine what I'm working for. I find myself thinking of writing a new blog post, partially to help me order my thoughts, partially to hopefully make people realize how hard it is for me to keep going on living.

Of course, I do not wish to be melodramatic, so it has to be phrased in such a manner that it evokes understanding, not revulsion or otherwise scare people away or have them dismiss me as yet another crazy person. I start putting a few different drafts together in my head.

One of the first feelings I experienced right after waking up was one of despair mixed with revulsion, its focus being my body. I still can't handle the knowledge that I essentially do not have any genitals. I have no idea what to do with it, other than realize that it makes me into a freak. Then a common question pops up in my head:

"You do feel like a woman, right?"

So many people have asked me this. So many physicians and psychologists have asked me the same question or variations on it. It's at the very core of my traumas. The only answer I can give to it is that I don't know. I don't know what 'feeling like a woman' means. I only know that being alive with this body has caused me only confusion and pain. Confusion because my body never adhered to the development I saw when others entered puberty. Pain when I realized seven years ago that I was a freak of nature. Pain when it was denied by physicians and psychologists that my body was different from a male's body even though it was so obvious. Pain when it was expected of me to adapt straight into a female role.

I don't know what my role or place in society is. Heck, I don't know what I am. A genital-less, asexual being which exists in a world where there is no place for it. Maybe. After seven years of brainwashing and emotional torture in the Dutch healthcare system I'm not sure what to feel any more. Admitting that I am a sexual being is difficult enough. While I fondly remember some parts of back when I was intimate with others, mostly the closeness and the pleasurable physical and emotional sensations, those memories become insignificant by the dark shadows cast by intense self-loathing, doubts and confusion.

I'm now twenty-eight years old and yet I don't feel like I'm older than ten years when it comes to things like sexuality. I guess I did get stuck there all those years ago. I'm supposed to be an adult - a woman according to most - but I don't feel like it at all. Early in my childhood I lost the feeling of safety and sureness when I got stuck between 'the boys' and 'the girls'. The issues I have when it comes to accepting my body and the confusion I associate with sexuality started a long time ago. On top of those issues came the traumas due to the brainwashing and the rape/sexual assault, magnifying the existing issues many-fold.

I'm lost.

I'm afraid.

Afraid that if I continue living things will become even worse.

Afraid that I'm doing everything wrong, that it's already too late to right things now.

Afraid that when I ask help people will pretend to help me again, or otherwise hurt me.

Lost as every path I have tried seems to take me somewhere unpleasant.

Above all I know, I feel, I realize, I am aware, I am pained, I want to run away from the fact that I am a freak.

Maybe I'm not a freak, but I can not convince myself that I am not. The questions of what I am and what my place in society is are too strong and too fundamental to be shoved aside, or answered with external help.

This morning I did manage to take a shower even though it's still hard to see my own body in a mirror. It's my own small victory. For a brief moment.


Wednesday, 7 December 2011

Intersex, Sexuality... And Me...

- How my intersex condition has shaped my life.
- How my environment has responded to it.
- Getting introduced to sexuality... and the consequences.
- Dutch intolerance and persecution as the worst part.
- Me as a person beyond sexuality and being intersex.



Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Taking Action: Day One

After the previous blog post I mentioned that it'd be great if this week turned out to be positive. As nothing happens on its own, I decided to jump straight into the action and try to get as many things done this week as possible.

Today I first went to the dentist to make an appointment there after their constant failures to call me back. Tomorrow morning I have an appointment. Score. Next I went to make an appointment with my family doctor because my knee wasn't feeling quite alright yet. Made an appointment for Thursday morning. After that I went to the local office of my insurance company.

First I discussed the letter I had received from them involving the coverage overview for the last bill I had sent them: the German hospital bill. As I suspected they had not paid the bill, instead rejecting it despite assurances before that I just had to send in the bill to get it settled. Apparently the person who handled the bill didn't check my file and note that I got granted coverage for the surgery. This should be corrected soon now.

Next I handed in the bill I got for the electrolysis therapy (800+ EURO for the past few months) and confirmed that the request had been permanently denied. When I noted to the lady who was helping me, who has helped me many times before and who is following my story as well, that I would be passing things on to my lawyer now, she told me that I could also contact the SKGZ, the Stichting Klachten en Geschillen Zorgverzekeringen, an organization which handles complaints from costumers regarding their health insurance. They offer this service for free, so I decided to try this first. Later this week I'll get mailed further details and I'll have to send in copies of all the relevant communications.

That settled things with regard to items I could take care of today, I thought. That was until my knee suddenly started hurting a lot during the late afternoon and later turned almost completely numb to the touch. It reminded me strongly of what I had gone through with the same leg in May of this year after the beating I received from the police. After a while it got so bad that I had to call the ER for an appointment and head over there.

The good news is that I probably won't need surgery on my knee. The bad news is that I have an infection in my knee and things are inflamed right now, causing the pain. The doctor who treated me was puzzled by the re-occurrence of the same symptoms after a number of months, until he noted that a cracked meniscus could be responsible. I got prescribed anti-inflammatory medication (ibuprofen 600 mg) and I'll have to get a referral for an MRI scan of the knee from my family doctor. I got asked to describe what had happened to my knee during the beating (not mentioning it was caused by the police, focusing on the relevant parts only), and admitted that I didn't know it exactly but that according to my mother I was forced repeatedly with my knees against the ground. Blunt impact force, in other words, directly on the meniscus. Depending on the results of the MRI scan I may decide to file a complaint with the police.

At least I now know what the probable cause of the issues with my knee and leg are and can work on fixing things. It's also important progress.

I also got an email from that one German company who had offered me a job that I had failed their programming test and won't be invited for an interview. Considering the poor state of said programming assignment in terms of requirements I'm quite glad I won't be working for them and wasn't hesitant to tell them this in my last email to them. I'll be focusing on the projects my awesome friend Trevor, who really is incredibly patient with silly me, and maybe finally manage to turn them into successful commercial projects very soon now.

Finally, tomorrow I'm expecting to receive the replacement for my broken Corsair headset and I firmly intend to finally do another video log entry. Run away scared now, my little lambs~


Sunday, 4 December 2011

Chronic Stress Makes Me Wish I Was Dead

Recently I have been saying that I would soon do another video log, but I fear it'll have to wait. I'm still far too emotionally unstable at this point. This morning I once again couldn't stop crying shortly after waking up, and ended up trying to strangle myself again. I only blacked out for a moment as a result, and have a sore throat as well. It wasn't me who did this, but one of the monsters which lurk inside my head. I'm under too much stress at this point to hold them back. I have also written before about how it has been shown that emotional and physical pain mean the same thing to the brain [1].

The legal gender change request has been received by the courthouse in Almelo but nothing has been done with it. This a week after they received it. I hope the judge looks at it next week.

I haven't heard back from my other lawyer regarding the lawsuit yet. I have no idea what is happening there and how long it may take before the lawsuit is approved. I need this lawsuit to validate and put to use the past seven years of torture. Without it I'll have suffered pretty much for nothing as the Dutch hospitals can continue their maltreatment of intersex but also transsexual people.

I got offered a job in Germany earlier this week. Moving to another country is a stressful thing no matter what, and though I'm glad that I might be leaving the Netherlands for good within a couple of months, I'm worried about whether I'll like the new job and the environment there. I'm also worried about combining it with all those legal cases.

This week I'll probably be starting another lawsuit, this one against my insurance company for not granting me full coverage on electrolysis therapy. They have been pushing me around on this issue for months, resulting in me submitting the request four times and every time receiving conflicting feedback from them about whether a request has been denied or not, the reasons, whether additional information I have sent them has been received, etc. I feel I should get the coverage because my situation in this area is technically the same as for transsexuals and they do get full coverage.

To top it off, my dentist office is acting really weird. This year they have repeatedly promised to call me back later when I call for an appointment yet they never do. Tomorrow I'll go there in person and ask them what is going on.

I do not wish to be dramatic. I do not wish to make things look larger than they are. I do not wish to do anything that is morally or otherwise wrong. I do not wish to hurt myself.

I want to live and keep trying to find ways to do so, but if it's through a haze of pain, living is a bloody hard thing to do. One can only ignore the increasing pain for so long before giving into it.


Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Don't Mind The Fool In The Corner

Late Sunday night I finally got the document from the German surgeon with his statement on what has been done and discovered during the surgery on October 14th. I forwarded it to my lawyers. With this the legal gender change and the lawsuit against the Dutch hospitals should be able to progress. I'm currently awaiting updates from both lawyers.

Also included in the surgeon's email was a brief summary of the findings during the biopsy of the removed testicles. They consisted out of atrophied tissue - probably as a result of the hormone therapy - with no signs of sperm-producing tissue. This explains the low testosterone production, as they seem to be as underdeveloped as the rest of the reproductive organs. The vagina, prostate and now testicles can all be termed remnants of a failed development.

Moving on, from time to time people come rushing to me to tell me about some intersex person who works there and there, and isn't it exciting that they can have a regular life and be accepted?

Oh yes, wonderful...

Here I am, broke and without income or home after a seven-year struggle with the hospitals and facing a long legal battle against the same hospitals, all to fight for the right to be myself. I have no job prospects or a future. All I can hope for is that the lawsuit gets approved by the judge and I can get foreign media attention, so that maybe someone out there can take pity on me and give me a future. How pathetic is that?

I have never learned how to live with being intersex. All the examples I get are of people who either have made it already or are also struggling to carve out an existence. I do not know what it means to be intersex. So far I have put it away, deep inside, and joked about it. At times it comes to the surface and its razor-sharp edges carve my very soul to shreds.

I really do not know anything yet. Not about myself, let alone my future.

*sadly shakes her fool's cap some more*


Saturday, 12 November 2011

The Usual Mixed Bag Of News Desperate For Some Hope

Sometimes things just go very well all of a sudden.

Yesterday I received a letter from my insurance company, which after the usual moment of befuddlement turned out to be a confirmation that the request for the surgery coverage in Germany had been approved. Attached was a form E-112 which I could hand over to the hospital in question. Fancy fact of course is that the surgery is now almost a month ago already, so I decided to call my insurance company and ask them how to handle this.

According to the girl I talked to it was very simple: I just needed to send them the bill from the hospital and that should take care of it. Easy enough. She then asked whether I had any more questions and I informed about the possibility of obtaining in writing the reasons for rejecting my request for full coverage of the electric epilation I'm undergoing. However, despite having had a woman from the same insurance company name two reasons (me still being registered as being male and not having filed the request before starting the whole therapy) for rejecting the request, the real reason turned out to be simply that they had been so slow at the insurance company with forwarding the additional information I had sent them that the case had been closed.

Naturally the request couldn't be re-opened from there and I had to have my family doctor re-send the request. When I told the insurance girl about the troubles I and my beautician had experienced in getting the request approved with it still being rejected she appeared quite sympathetic. When I told her about how me mentioning talking to my lawyer about it resulting in 'lost' documents suddenly being 'found' she laughed in recognition mixed with disbelief. All in all she was most helpful in clearing up a lot of things and I'm glad I made that phone call.

As it turned out, when she pulled up my information in their system she noticed that I'm registered there as being male which she told me had confused her majorly as she was convinced that she was talking to a regular woman. Explaining about intersex, hermaphroditism and pointing her to my website not only made things clear to her, but she seemed very interested and excited about learning this. In the end our talk became quite relaxed and we were even giggling at some points. The whole conversation left me with a good feeling, and I quickly went to the local insurance office to have them forward the hospital and to my family doctor's office to have the request re-sent.

Also nice is that I have people helping me improve my resume and contacting others in order to help me find a job. One of them also runs a fun blog site for which I did an interview which is currently still being posted in segments:

Sometimes things just don't want to go into the right direction.

It's been nearly a month since I had the surgery in Germany. It's been nearly three weeks since I asked my surgeon, Dr. Pottek, to send me a statement which I need to get my legal gender changed and to launch the legal case against the Dutch hospitals and the horrors of intersex treatment in the Netherlands. I still have no idea when I'll get this document. It could be next week. It could be early next year. I really have no idea.

Earlier this week my family doctor concluded that I have an inflammation in my right knee and got me anti-inflammatory medication to take for it. This medication has resulted in severe stomach pains,  which are apparently a normal side-effect, as well other uncomfortable sensations. Whether the medication is also doing something proper I don't know. Since yesterday my right knee is swelling up to the point where it's very easily noticeable. I'm not at all comfortable with the way things are going there and may have to go back to the doctor if things don't improve by Monday.

Mixed is also the situation with my stalkers. They have had their main weapon against me taken away, with that surgery in Germany proving once and for all that I had no reason to question my own theories about my body, and they're now scrambling to figure out something new, without any luck. They can't question the facts about my body any more and hurt me that way. On the other hand, they are tenacious enough that they keep stalking me to the point where they create accounts everywhere in order to track me down on those sites, as happened on Google+ most recently. One of them did reveal herself there, though what amazed me was that she used her real name, photo and location and posted in a public thread, meaning that she revealed herself as one of my stalkers to my thousands of followers. I won't link to her Google+ account as I'm not that childish, but it's easy enough to find via my Google+ posts assuming that her account hasn't been banned yet.

The nasty thing about this is having people with apparently no life tracking you in such an obsessed manner. Many celebrities have to deal with such unwanted attention and it is a very bothersome thing to deal with. About the exact psychology behind such obsessive behaviour I'm not sure, but that it isn't healthy behaviour should be clear. At the very least I'm glad that they don't have anything to hurt me with any more. Now it's just bloody nuisance, but maybe good preparation for the harassment I can probably expect once my legal case goes public. I'm sure that there are enough misguided, intolerant people out there prepared to harass those they see as 'different'.


Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Vlog: Putting Everything So Far Together

- The surgery in Germany.
- My intersex condition.
- My feelings about it.
- What I'm doing now.
- How I see the future.


Sunday, 6 November 2011


Quick status update on my physical and mental health. I'm back on antibiotics since Friday after I finished the first cure and the infection wasn't gone yet. Currently I'm on broad-spectrum antibiotics which have the nasty side-effects of nausea, dizziness, headache, disorientation and most fun of all diarrhea. Tomorrow I'll get some probiotics to hopefully counter some of these side-effects by refilling the number of good bacteria in my system.

Tomorrow I'm also going to make an appointment at my family doctor's office. My right knee has been bothering me more and more the past weeks while being relatively stable pain-wise after the police beating [1] in May this year. Last Thursday I noticed that walking at a brisk pace was painful and today with the colder weather it's hurting something fierce at times, while the area is painful to the touch. I'm not feeling happy about this situation so I want to have it checked out.

Emotionally I'm still very much a mess. I have locked myself up in a tiny world, to shut out the horrible world outside. I have never felt this agitated, terrified and disgusted at anything related to sexuality. I think that's the result of getting the answers about my body. I feel more like a freak than ever before. This is not a positive development and I'm somewhat afraid of where it's heading. I think I need outside help on this point.

I have also forbidden myself to even think about my future. Technically I'm still homeless at the moment as I can not afford my own place now or any time soon and the only reason why I'm not living on the streets is because my mother still has some room for me at her place. There's also no way I'm getting out this country which is slowly killing me. No one will hire a person with severe, untreated PTSD. I also can not support myself financially. There's no existence possible for me in the Netherlands, nor anywhere else.

The only reasonable option at this point is to commit suicide, but I am foolish enough to keep trying for a bit longer by ignoring the terrors which lie ahead in my future. Can't think about it any more. Shouldn't even write about it. It just triggers things.



Friday, 28 October 2011

Burned Out On Life

After nearly seven years I finally have most of the medical answers I have been looking for. To be honest I'm not really sure what to do next.

I know why I had to get those answers and the recognition for my intersex condition: to understand and come to terms with a disastrous puberty and surrounding years during which my body turned into something I could not understand, with mixed male and female secondary developments taking place and my emotional side being caught completely off-guard.

I was twenty-one years old when I started with this. I'm now twenty-eight. Seven years just seem to have vanished. Years during which I not only got lied to and brainwashed by Dutch hospitals and psychologists, but during which I also got raped, sexually assaulted, abused, harassed, beaten up by the police and refused by various Christian family doctors for being intersex. I'm now looking at the last years of my twenties with severe PTSD, DID and an urgent need to leave the country which has inflicted this upon me.

I know all this, and yet I am powerless to do anything about it. I know roughly what my options are. Struggle through a year or more of searching for a job in Canada or so directly, go via an EU branch and hope I can get relocated to Canada, or hope for a miracle. I also know that such a job search is the last thing I am capable of. Why?

For nearly seven years I have had to defend myself and my situation against physicians, psychologists, politicians and regular people. Not being trusted is what I know best and am the most afraid of. In this regard a job search is far too similar and thus places far too much emotional stress on me. Just at the thought of a job search I feel like crying uncontrollably. I'm not good enough...

I'm trying to ignore my lack of a future at this point by focusing on my work, but I know quite well that my chances of getting out of this situation on my own range between negative and very, very slight. I just have to consult the dull headache and feeling of weary exhaustion I carry along with me ever since I returned from Germany. Typical burn-out.

No time to recover, though. No chance to get my PTSD treated. No chance to live. Just got to fight and make more compromises while ending up with less each time.

I can't do it any more...


Thursday, 20 October 2011

Trudging Forth On The Path Of Infinite Regrets

One can not live without accumulating regrets about past decisions and past events. Many of them are relatively insignificant, like whether missing that date with that one girl would have made any real difference, or losing that winning lottery ticket for a grand total of $100 or so. Others are far more influential, especially medical issues, as they literally touch upon the very core of our existence.

Emotionally it's not been easy for me since I learned the facts about my body. Before the surgeon told me what he found there were so many possibilities, some of them better, some of them worse than what I ended up with when this waveform of possibilities collapsed into the basic truth. I had been right all those years, but also wrong. The Dutch physicians and psychologists have lied to me and attempted to brainwash me through elaborate deceptions. I do have a vagina, but its development got stuck on a relatively early level and isn't usable. I am essentially without genitals, as apparently both cell lines, XX and XY, fought over control when it came to developing the genitals and both lost. That's why I only have a hybrid clitoris/penis structure which is neither, and a vagina and prostate remnant. It's also why I had undeveloped testicles and have never been fertile as either side.

I am a freak.

Such a simple word, with so much pain and anguish behind it. The treatment by my very own country is something I simply can not comprehend let alone deal with at this point. The many regrets about having been born like this, with such a questionable body. Being without genitals. Being infertile. Having to get additional surgery to have an artificial vagina created to allow me to still have some semblance of genitals and the possibility of a sex life. The emotional mess which is a result of growing up like this.

So much left to do before I can maybe become happy.

I feel beyond disgusted and horrified at what my very own country has done to me and I really can not stay here any longer than absolutely necessary. Whether it was sheer incompetence or malevolence which drove them to trample my human rights like this I do not know. All I know is that they won't fix it and I can't fix it.

*takes a deep breath*

The positive news is that the wounds from the surgery are healing quite well. Yesterday I also visited my lawyer regarding the official gender change and progress is being made there. All that is required now are a confirmation from the surgeon that I am fact infertile now thanks to the orchiectomy and more annoyingly proof that he is an approved physician as that's required by law to testify that a person is intersex. More annoying delays.

My lawyer is also going to help me find another lawyer who can help me launch a case against the Dutch police and the various hospitals here who have caused me so many grievances, both emotional and physical in nature. I'm very grateful that she's doing this for me. Hopefully I can find some closure that way.


Friday, 14 October 2011

The Joys Of Surgery, And I'm Not Done Yet...

It's 10.45 PM as I'm typing this in my hospital bed. I went to sleep around 8 PM and even took a sleeping pill, but I have been sleeping almost constantly since the surgery this morning so now I'm quite awake. Sadly I do not have internet - it's only available if you pay extra - so no one but me will read this post until I put it online early next week.

Traveling to the clinic on Thursday was no big deal, other than the fact that German intercity trains use a seat numbering system akin to airplanes, which was a tad confusing at first. I arrived safely after about 4.5 hours of travel time. The reception was good and warm, even if very few people here speak English. Dr. Pottek does, fortunately, as do his secretary and a few others I talked to. It's kinda fun to use a mixture of English and German with the personnel here.

After arrival I first had four ampuls of blood taken, then talked with the anesthetist, who had not been informed on the details surrounding my case yet. It was kinda confusing, but it was a nice, younger guy. I ended up giving him my business card so that he can take a further look at my case. Both Dr. Pottek and his secretary have read my website, which I still think is amazing as never before has a doctor or even hospital personnel shown any kind of interest in the person behind the patient. I think that Dr. Pottek is very friendly and attentive, even if at some points he still very much is a guy.

After the anesthetist appointment I had a chat with Dr. Pottek. His first remark was immediately that he didn't think I have a vagina, thereby instantly triggering my traumas and making me feel kinda sick. When he fetched his laptop with the MRI images, however, things became a lot more nuanced. There is a structure there, but he was unsure how useful it could be. During the surgery the next day he would open things up and see what he could find. An ultrasound of this structure and the testicles were made.

Having been shown to my room after all this, I was basically free to do what I wanted until surgery at 8 AM the next morning. I had a room to myself, which was quite sparsely furnished. For some reason I got a lot of flashbacks regarding the time I spent in jail as well as other flashbacks and felt really quite terrible and haunted. I got a sedative for this, and the night nurse gave me a sleeping tablet as well. I don't think I got much sleep that night, though.

Surgery itself took about 50 minutes, during which I was completely unconscious. It was nearly 10 AM when I came to again, and it was later that afternoon when I heard from Dr. Pottek how things had gone. As expected the orchiectomy was a breeze, though I have drainage tubes installed which are rather annoying, to be honest. The exploratory surgery showed that while there is a structure underneath the skin, it's too underdeveloped to be useful as a vagina and thus the opening was closed up without any further surgery. What I will likely do, as suggested by Dr. Pottek, is when the now empty scrotum has finished shrinking in a few (4-6) months time, to have it used to create a vagina and labia with. According to Dr. Pottek I have the abdominal space for a vagina this way of about 12 cm deep.

I know I have said that I do not wish for an artificial vagina, but now that I'm this close to having one of my own and just missing it, I think it's the right choice to undergo this vaginoplasty using the otherwise useless scrotum skin. This procedure would then probably take place in Canada, assuming Google accepts my application there. It's also so that in terms of reproductive organs I ended up with so little. No womb, or ovaries. Scarcely developed prostate and testicles. Just a penis which is wired up like a clitoris. With the primary erogenic zone for me being the location of the vagina, this second surgery is the best way I have to get a satisfying sex life.

Just one more reason to hope that I do get hired by Google or similar soon, so that I can build up my life, have that last, 5-hour surgery and then at long last be done with it. Dr. Pottek noted that they have a good center for plastic surgery in Ottowa. I hope that I can go there early next year...


Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Why I'd Really Want To Work At Google Canada

As suggested by a certain someone at Google+, I'm hereby composing a list of items why I would be more than happy if Google Canada offered me the chance to work at one of their offices.

For me the crucial point at this time is to get the heck out of the Netherlands after many highly unpleasant years caused by the disconnect of the government and medical system here when it comes to things like my intersex condition (hermaphroditism). The resulting struggle has led to various traumas on my side which make it impossible for me to stay much longer in this country. I really need to move to a place where I can be myself, and of course work at a company where this is possible as well. Google does seem like a company where such tolerance and freedom exists. Canada is also the kind of country where this should be possible.

Furthermore, I'm a long-time software developer, starting back in the early 90s as a hobby, to make it my profession early this century. I love new, never before tried concepts and projects as can be seen in my portfolio to some extent. Innovation and imagination is in my blood. I think that Google, being such a young and ambitious company, is probably one of if not the best environment for a person like me to work in, especially considering their policy of letting employees work on their own projects using company resources. That's the kind of thing I really like.

I also have no problems working in teams, as long as things are done fairly. I will quickly speak my mind about things I'm not happy about and think that by doing so I'll do everyone a favour. This also seems like it's in line with how Google operates :)

Most importantly for me is of course that I can permanently escape the Netherlands and settle in a more friendly country, but I'm also willing to give a lot back to whoever makes this possible. I'm someone who keeps her promises and I vow that if Google helps me in this matter, I'll repay them with equal fairness. Even if I am made to program in Java :)


Heading Out On A Journey Of Many Firsts And Many Questions

First time I'll undergo surgery. First staying the night at a hospital or clinic. First time a surgeon actually does his job. First time my life is changing for the better.

Uncertainty about whether the surgeon will decide to proceed with the introitoplasty. Questions about what the result will be if I do get the introitoplasty: what will this vagina of mine be like in terms of development? It still feels so strange to even be talking about it as a real thing.

By the end of tomorrow I should have at least the answers to the most essential questions, and know whether the introitoplasty will be performed. The surgeon will be doing an ultrasound for the orchiectomy as part of the standard procedure, and a transrectal ultrasound to examine the possibility of an introitoplasty. To be honest I no longer want to think about what it's going to be. I know what I'm hoping for and I know what would disappoint me greatly. One would mean a happy ending to the medical side of the story, the other would mean the continuation of this hellish nightmare.

Main reason why it would end the nightmare is that the introitoplasty would mean the ultimate evidence of me being intersex and a hermaphrodite. Without it people, including physicians, will keep questioning whether I'm intersex at all and ridicule me for thinking that I actually could have female reproductive organs. It'll maintain the doubt and possibly even worsen things if I know it's there but can't be operated upon. I'm not sure how I would handle that news.

Hoping for the best here... See you guys at the other side.


Monday, 10 October 2011

The German Surgery Appointment As An Elaborate Fake: Fact Or Paranoia?

There's nothing I would love more than a happy ending to my medical drama in less than a week, but if the past seven years have taught me anything it is that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is. I'm facing the same thing with the upcoming surgery appointment in Germany. Note that I'm not trying to accuse anyone of anything here, I'm just trying to spell out my doubts and questions here.

First of all I have never had contact with the clinic itself. I have sent them emails with requests for general information about what to expect at the clinic but not received a response. My surgeon, Dr. Pottek, said he would forward my questions as well, which brings me to the next point, namely that I have always communicated with this Dr. Pottek via an email address not connected to the clinic, but a personal email address at a German internet provider. I got this email address via my friend Sandra, who I have never met in real life and of whom I can not say that she is a real person or not.

My fear is that I'll be arriving at the clinic in Hamburg on Thursday afternoon, ask for Dr. Pottek (who is a real doctor at the clinic) and be told that there's no record of anyone with my name being expected at the clinic. So far there's nothing I can put against the earlier reasoning, and nothing which could ease my doubts. At this point I do have the faint hope that it is all real and not a hoax, but so many people have set up schemes like this for me in the past, regular people and even physicians, that I can't help but feel completely justified in thinking that it is all yet another setup, aimed at hurting me.

The clinic actually responding to my emails would help to ease my doubts, but I'm very doubtful... I really hope that I'm just paranoid, but trusting people is no longer possible for me.

I'll be over there, bracing for the pain of yet another massive disappointment...


Sunday, 9 October 2011

Saying Farewell To The Child, Or: How Deeply My Country Has Betrayed Me

In four days time I'll be traveling to Hamburg, Germany, where I will undergo the very first surgery ever in my life and also likely the most important one I'll ever have. With a bit of luck I will not only lose the little bit of true masculinity in my body (semi-functional testicles), but will also gain the last bit of female sexuality which has up till now been hidden and denied to me. This transformation goes far beyond the mere physical. With it I'll also leave behind the last part of the child inside me: the boy who wasn't a boy.

While the mental scars won't fade right away it'll still mean that at long last I have won the war to regain my real identity. In order to win this bitter-sweet victory I also needed outside interference. Part of me still can barely believe that it may really happen this time, that before next week the struggle for medical help and acknowledgement finally ends. I was twenty-one years old when I finally discovered what was going on with my body, and I'm now twenty-eight, with both physical and mental scars to show for it.

Part of coming to terms with these 'lost years' is somehow dealing with the treatment by my own country, the Netherlands. As I have documented in a very detailed fashion on my site and blog, there has been a constant denial of my intersex condition and a constant push to have me accept the lie that I had to be transsexual and was just one sex-reassignment surgery (and 3+ years of 'therapy') away from happiness. Here I can only draw two conclusions, based on the saying "Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity" [1].

Either the Dutch physicians, psychologists and politicians have acted out of malice, knowing very well the damage their brainwashing attempts would do, or they are so clueless and ignorant that they kept at their misguided attempts to 'help' me even as it became abundantly clear right from the start that it was the wrong approach. Whichever is the case, or whether it's a combination of both, the quick acceptance and help in Germany shows clearly what the right approach is like. If I had lived in Germany back in 2005 when I discovered the issue, I would probably have had medical help that same year and not had to suffer all these years of agony. I am more than just bitter about the way my country has and still is treating me. I feel completely betrayed and abandoned by them and regard the Netherlands as a lethal risk.

I would very much like to change the Netherlands or at least make it easy for intersex people to flee from it to safe country, but I'll need to recover from my ordeal first. Here is to hoping that I'll soon get hired by one of the Canadian companies I applied at or otherwise find my way into that country, or another country where I can be safe and feel welcome.

Now that I have finally reached this point it'd be kind of silly to have to admit defeat and commit suicide or so, right?



Wednesday, 5 October 2011

Things Really Don't Have To Be So Difficult

A short while ago my German physician, Dr. Pottek, informed me about his findings with regard to the MRI scans I sent him. He basically confirmed the findings of the first German clinic who did the initial MRI scan and analysis. To quote from the email in which he describes some details:

"in one of the MRI files one can see something that could be the vanishing vagina.
I watched one of the interviews you have poste on your website where you told that you feel something with your fingers.
If this is the anatomical pendant to what I see in the MRI, it should be easy to open it and form an introitus.
We would have to compare these findings with the pictures of a transrectal ultrasound examination we will do here."

An introitus or introitoplasty is essentially using the scrotum to form labia. The inverse of introitus is scrotoplasty, whereby the labia are turned into a scrotum.

I also got a letter from Dr. Pottek to be forwarded to my insurance company. In it he confirms that I have an intersex body and that the orchiectomy is medically indicated to make the supporting hormone therapy easier. As described in the above quote he also wants to check out the vagina and notes in the letter that if he deems the introitoplasty possible, he will perform it together with the orchiectomy (castration). Depending on whether it is only the orchiectomy or both items which I will undergo during the surgery I will have to stay 3 or 5 nights.

Within a few hours all of my dreams, everything I have fought for in terms of medical recognition could become a reality.

It's such a wonderful feeling, even though there's still the lingering fear that it will all come crashing down again.

Tomorrow it's just one more week until I travel to Hamburg. Friday it'll be just one week until I find myself in the operating room. All I want to know is whether the introitoplasty is possible and if so, in how far the vagina is usable. Maybe I'll need hormone therapy to develop its development. I'll see.

Keeping everything I can cross crossed until the end of next week...


Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Why My Situation Is Little Different From Physical Torture

A few moments ago I had a brief email-exchange involving sex-reassignment surgery. This brief exchange contained sufficient triggers to make me feel warm/cold and to develop a sensation of hurt, of wanting to get away from it, to forget about it as it was hurting me and I had to get away from something that unpleasant. Last night I was communicating with the German surgeon who I'll meet next week. During our email exchange I experienced something similar.

The reason for this isn't so hard, of course. I got a lot of traumatic disorders which are bound to make me feel horrible when I'm reminded of something unpleasant which for me is almost with everything at this point. It's only the extent to which it makes me feel horrible which differs, like how getting slapped in the face isn't nearly as painful as getting punched in the face. There are gradations in emotional pain. Yet how far does this pain go?

According to a fairly recent study [1] there is no distinct difference between emotional and physical pain, making the pain experienced by test subjects in this study equivalent regardless of whether its origin was emotional or physical (8/10 on the pain scale), with fMRI scans showing that the same brain areas are activated. Short conclusion is that experiencing emotional pain, whether it's from a break-up or traumatic experiences is virtually the same as experiencing physical pain. Hereby the gradations play a role, of course.

This brings me back to the title of this post. Thanks to the whole host of traumas I have experienced and still am experiencing combined with the constant triggering of those traumas because I have to keep re-experiencing them while I fight my way out of the situation I was forced into. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which I also have, is characterized by the amygdala [2] basically going crazy as the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus are unable to regulate it down [3]. This leads to an extreme emotional response, which also leads to very painful memories and experiences being remembered or imagined.

To briefly summarize it, what I experience on a daily basis is no different from experiencing severe physical pain. It's been over five years since I began to suffer from PTSD. During that time the emotional distress has increased and increased. Day in. Day out. With regular shocks: rapid increases in this distress. Suffering chronic pain can drive one to insanity and suicide as the pain keeps gnawing at him, without any respite or relief. Euthanasia is the preferred option by terminally ill people suffering from chronic pain, such as during the final stages of cancer.

I can feel the pain gnawing at me. Deep inside, where I can't reach it. During moments of what one could term insanity I find myself hitting my head as hard as possible. To drown out the pain inside it. To try to end the pain. It's always there, never giving me much respite. I never got used to it, I just learned to endure it.

If someone gets beaten up on a daily basis, people would obviously consider this to be a heinous act and demand to stop it. Why would it be any different when the victim is suffering from severe emotional pain? The fMRIs say that it's the same thing to the person in question, meaning that to the victim there is no difference except for the presence or lack thereof of physical injuries.

Meanwhile, today I'm also suffering yet again from a strong pain in my right knee, as a result from the physical beating I received at the hands of the Dutch police. The foot is numb, with occasional stinging pain. The knee area is almost unbearably sore and painful to the touch. The pain from this kind of blurs together with the emotional pain.

I guess I literally am limping along now, both physically and emotionally, while hoping for salvation...



Monday, 3 October 2011

Having To Cancel My Surgeries Due To The Costs...

Feeling quite shocked right now... just heard the costs for the orchiectomy and the vaginoplasty of which at least the former will be performed this month: EUR 3,500 and EUR 7,000. If my insurance company doesn't pay up and/or the surgeon doesn't want to file a request with them, I'll be absolutely, totally, flat broke, or I'll have to refuse the surgeries and be back at square one... Just... T_T

I don't even have the means to pay for an orchiectomy, that's the short story... which means no legal gender change...

Why am I even trying any more? I know I can't win...


[update:] Got a positive response from my surgeon. He will send me a letter for my insurance company tomorrow. I just hope that my insurance company accepts it...

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Switching Between Stress Modes, Pain And Nausea

The thing about focusing on one thing at a time is when that one thing finally seems to resolve itself and one gets a chance to look up, all the other things to be done are still there, waiting. Rebuilding my life is one of those complex undertakings. Now that the medical situation finally seems to have found an apparent solution with the German physician, other issues come popping back up with a vengeance.

One of those things is the major medical question I have been walking around with. Back in 2007 a first German clinic concluded based on MRI images that I have a closed-off vagina and it probably could be opened via reconstructive surgery (creating labia). A second German clinic confirmed this in 2008. Now with an apparently cooperative surgeon prepared to do things for me I would be crazy if I didn't discuss with him, right? I have suggested this to my friend Sandra as well, but so far I haven't heard a response on this yet. I think that it is something which should be discussed the coming weeks before I head off to Hamburg, Germany. If anything the physician can take a look at the MRI report and scans and tell me his thoughts. If I'm really lucky I'll be heading to Hamburg again then in a month time or so for the labia reconstruction. Maybe. Luck hasn't been on my side so far. It's just another source of stress now.

Since yesterday I have had this severe headache, nausea also while lying in bed, sudden strong pains - especially in the lower-right abdomen, where the undescended testicle is located - which instantly knock the breath out of me, and lots of pain in both hands due to the nerve damage. I'm feeling restless, agitated and apprehensive. I also feel like it's all moving too slow, that the help I was expecting to help me escape this country isn't forthcoming as I had hoped and basically that it's all just slipping away.

I guess I really don't feel like I'm part of reality. When I'm waving at people to get their attention they just can't see me. I'm just like a ghost. Already dead but still in denial of the fact. So very insubstantial.

And of course that I ended up like this, with permanent nerve damage, severe traumatic disorders and no prospect of a future is all my fault. As someone put it recently to me, it's all my deserved punishment for what I have done.

With the lack of help there is the distinct possibility that this statement is true. I really must be a horrible person. Right? I deserve the worst punishment imaginable. I should see everything around me crumble until I end up taking my own life while crying out the last drops of regret for my horrible actions.

Any other explanation defies reason.


Friday, 30 September 2011

Finally, Planning My German Surgery Vacation Trip

My awesome friend Sandra just emailed me that she has made an appointment for me in Hamburg for the orchiectomy surgery. I'll be traveling there on October 13th, have the surgery on the 14th and stay there a few days to recover.

While I still feel a bit apprehensive about the whole thing, I'm mostly feeling relief at things finally moving forward and me being able to organize things again. There's nothing I hate more than depending on others. I guess I'm more of a leader type, as suggested by the personality tests I have done in the past.

The coming time I still have to arrange a few things, most notably the insurance coverage which has to be requested by the German physician, and the travel plan to/from the Hamburg hospital. The trip will cost me somewhere around 70-80 Euro, which is reasonable. I just hope I don't have to foot the bill for the procedure itself as well. It'll come down to the cooperation of the German physician there, I guess.

I'll be contacting my lawyer about the legal gender change as well, considering that a surgery date has been set. It's perhaps possible that she can file the request already, or at least prepare for it.

To be quite honest I'm looking forward to the trip. Going to a place where people will help me and where I'll spend a few days getting looked after. It should be quite pleasant. Only thing I hope is that I do have internet access there and can maybe take my laptop with me :D

Finally I would like to mention Sandra again, without whom I wouldn't be typing this. It's an awesome example of how people can help each other. Everybody knows a few other things than others, and a few other people who could be useful. That's why people shouldn't be afraid to lend their knowledge and network contacts to others. It's how society functions.


My Current Problem In A Nutshell

  • Nearly seven years ago I went to the first Dutch hospital's gender team to attempt to get medical help with my intersex condition, to figure out what was going on and what my options were.
  • During those years multiple Dutch physicians and psychologists tried to brainwash me into believing that I was transsexual, etc. Sex-Reassignment Surgery (SRS) was more than merely suggested as 'solution'. Tests (mosaic test report, MRI reports) were faked.
  • Two German clinics confirmed that I am a hermaphrodite.
  • I have been suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) and probably other traumatic disorders for a number of years now, as confirmed by my psychotherapist. This is directly caused by the Dutch medical system and related.
  • An EMDR therapist I went to refused to treat my PTSD as it's too strong right now, due to the lack of medical help. The treatment could harm me.
  • I need to find a country to move to where I can get away from the causes of my traumas (the Dutch medical and related systems), where I can get medical help and trauma care. Moving away is the first priority.
  • Germany would be a good option except that I do not speak German, which makes it hard to impossible to find a job there. A country like Canada has good medical care, no bias against intersex people and a healthy economy, plus English is my primary language, allowing me to blend right in. It has my preference at the moment.


Thursday, 29 September 2011

A Day In The Life Of A Stranger In A Strange Land

This morning I once again woke up in what could be called my room, but isn't really. It's filled with full moving boxes and all the other elements of my life which I had to postpone while I try to find a way out of what seems like an impossible to change descent into death. It's a depressing sight, not to mention a constant reminder that things still aren't alright.

I had to take a shower this morning as I had an appointment at the beauty salon in Deventer. It's not easy for me to take showers any more, as it is a confrontation with this body of mine, which is a constant, painful reminder that it is what caused my life to spiral downwards like this. Or maybe it wasn't and it is this country I was born in which is responsible for what happened to me. I don't like assigning blame. I just want to do fun things in life and people to not be mean to others. Even if they're just following protocol. Following protocols, regulations and laws isn't being humane.

The stress of arranging such a simple surgery due to the difficulties encountered has pushed me over the edge in many ways. I couldn't even brush my teeth this morning without it causing me to start feeling nauseous and throwing up the breakfast I had consumed an hour before. I hate throwing up. It makes you feel so terrible and weak. Yet the stress is only going to get worse from here on. I wonder what's worse than throwing up which is caused by extreme, chronic, untreated stress? I guess I'll find out soon enough.

Anyway, I digress. I was talking about my difficulty with taking showers as it confronts me with my body. Being confronted with the moving boxes in the room I sleep in, and the problem formed by my body. This morning I was also expecting to hear news from another clinic in Germany via my friend Sandra regarding the orchiectomy. That news turned out to be a 6 week wait for a EUR 150 intake. No good option. I still don't get why the Münster clinic need so long either to decide whether they want to help me. Eventually I succumbed and just told Sandra to arrange an appointment for next week, even if it was in Hamburg. Somehow it has to be done. I have been stuck on arranging this minor, 30-minute surgery for one and a half month now. It's part of the tragedy that is my life, it seems.

Thus I spent today's morning. Around noon I left for the trainstation for my appointment at the beauty salon. As I don't like to dress shabbily when going outside, I was wearing black leggings, short jeans and a white T-shirt with a colourful print on it featuring a French text. I put on some makeup as well. Just some mascara and eye-liner. I was glad it was a nice warm and sunny day today. I'm still not comfortable thinking about myself as a regular woman, though. There's still so much missing inside of me, not to mention the years of mental abuse by psychologists and physicians who tried to brainwash me into thinking that I had to be a guy. That on top of years of self-delusion which took me two decades to snap out of. I'm neither a guy or girl. I'm... something. I need therapy and help to get over this.

Going to Deventer by train was very familiar. Been going there for months now for these electric epilation treatments. While in the train I spent my time reading a newspaper I found there and in my current book, Stephen King's Black House. It's a good book so far. It's co-authored by Peter Straub, another of my favourite authors.

After getting off the train and not forgetting to check out with my digital public transport card, I walked out of the station hall into Deventer. I had to don my sunglasses as it was very sunny today. I made it to the beauty salon well on time as usual. I chatted a bit with some of the interns who work there, most of whom already know about my situation. I notice that I really enjoy this weekly bit of social interaction. It makes me almost feel like I'm not a reject of society. Until the appointment is over and I leave the salon, of course.

The electric epilation treatment is going quite well. Last week the beautician asked me to stop shaving part of the area that is being treated as she really can't see the hairs there otherwise. They're just getting too small. After the first treatment I got a back massage from one of the interns. They get to practice that way, and I get a free massage. I think it's a pretty fair trade, although part of me feels a bit guilty because I don't feel like I am giving back enough. I have that a lot. The massage was followed by another round of electric epilation. Most of the long hairs are gone now. Just got to heal up again.

After the beauty salon appointment I went to check out this lawyer I had contacted via email about two weeks ago regarding the damages caused to me by the police and others, but from whom I hadn't received a response yet. It was a surreal experience walking further into the center of Deventer. Decrepit buildings and randomly laid out streets. Lots of people around who didn't look like they were doing so well in life either. A few times I heard beeping and cat whistles behind me as guys tried to draw my attention. I guess I should be flattered. Part of me was. Another part hates acting like I'm a regular girl as I know the horrible truth. I also know that I can not live with this truth forever.

The lawyer's office turned out to be some shared building, and after pressing the door bell for the lawyer's office I didn't get a response, so I walked back to the station. On my way there phrases from various Stephen King books I have read over the years popped into my head. Mostly descriptions of people and surroundings. Decay being a prominent item. Around me I could see it as well. A crowded city, filled with people who are too tired to live any more but are going on anyway. Young people being oblivious of the decay and hopelessness around them. I did see some fancy stores in one street, though. It's not a place where I would want to live. It doesn't feel real.

Few things feel real any more, I guess. Humans are very good at pretending that reality is different from what their senses perceive. I guess it's also why so many people I talk to do not understand or see that my situation is anything but stable and without external stable I am very likely to end up dead. The constant pains in my lower abdomen which are almost unbearable are a reminder of this. Which pains are just in my head and which are real? Which pains are caused by the stress and which are due to some malignant medical condition?

In a proper world I wouldn't have gone through all of this. I wouldn't have suffered at all. I wouldn't have severe, untreated PTSD.I wouldn't have to flee the country I was born and raised in. Little wonder that I so badly want this suffering to end that I'm ready to quit life altogether. After the nosedive my life took, seven years ago, there's absolutely no sign that things are improving. So far it's just more of the same old promises-and-betrayal. Maybe I'll get the orchiectomy performed after all and my legal gender changed, but what then? Will I make it to Canada or another safe country? Will I ever get treatment for my PTSD? Will anyone powerful ever admit that I was treated horribly and arrange protection for me?

More promises. More pending betrayals. More broken dreams. Just the endless waking up in a room surrounded by the ruins of my life, and no way to fix it. I can't do anything, it's been beyond my powers for years.

This isn't a life. This isn't an existence. It's just an endless, cruel nightmare which some demonic god put on repeat. I'm only playing along while I still have this little shred of hope that it will end one day and this world will no longer feel like part of the nightmare, with everyone just put there to make me feel even worse.

Today there's still no conclusion to the orchiectomy adventure either. Haven't heard from Sandra since this morning. Kinda worried. I hope I'm feeling okay tomorrow. Waking up feeling suicidal is a risky thing. I have already made sure there's nothing in the room where I sleep which I can use to kill myself with. Nothing can keep me from punching, scratching and strangling myself, though. The ability to harm myself and feel physical pain is my only weapon against this nightmare at this point anyway. Only through it can I keep a connection with reality and feel human again for a bit. Without physical mutilation I would already be dead. It's pathetic and sad.

My life is sad. Tragicomedy, or just tragedy. Don't most tragedies end with the death of the main character? I wonder how mine will end... Just a bit longer until the curtains are drawn after the last act completes. The currently final act is about which will give out sooner: my mind or my body. Both suffered so much abuse the past years. Both are on the verge of collapse. It's going to be exciting.

And in a way I'm relieved that there is a good chance that I will be slipping quietly out of this life. Would have loved to have given it another whirl, but one has to be fair about when there's no chance to win any more and gracefully give up.

*bows as the curtains are drawn closed*


Wednesday, 28 September 2011

Quick Update Regarding Orchiectomy And German Clinics

Last Friday I sent an email to a clinic in Nordhorn, Germany regarding the orchiectomy (castration) procedure. Didn't hear anything on Monday. Had my awesome German friend Sandra call the clinic on Tuesday. Turned out that they didn't receive my email. Resent it. Heard that they don't do the procedure. Got redirected to a clinic in Münster. Sandra sends them an email and we wait for response. She also talks with another urologist in Hamburg who agrees to do the procedure. It's a very long journey from here (near Enschede) to Hamburg, though.

Today Münster clinic gets a call from Sandra, she hears that they'll need five days to investigate the legality of the procedure. I already know it's legal. The first surgeon also knew it was legal else he wouldn't have agreed to perform it. Annoying. Sandra sends email to a clinic in Osnabrück, but before she can call them work time is over. The central reception confirms that the email was received and forwarded.

Tomorrow morning I finally hope to get the appointment. Hopefully for next week. It's an easy drive to Osnabrück from here. Can't wait to get this whole tragicomedy over with. Definitely can't take more stress. After the response of the Münster clinic I got very strong suicidal thoughts. Not good.

I'm also extremely grateful to my fantastic friend Sandra without whom I wouldn't even have accomplished this much. Keeping my fingers crossed for tomorrow now...

Pretty please? :(


Monday, 26 September 2011

Please Help If You Want Me To Have A Future

Staying in the Netherlands would mean continued discrimination and persecution due to my intersex condition. I would be refused any medical help, receive more hostility from physicians, psychologists and politicians. My untreated PTSD would likely result in a continuously degrading physical and emotional condition, as well as various auto-immune diseases. Even ignoring that I do not have the financial means to support myself in this very expensive country, staying where I am now will mean my death within the short term. Either due to medical complications or by my own hand.

I have to go somewhere else. Germany was one option, but I lack the financial means to support myself there, even though it's cheaper there. I would need someone to support me, or get a job. Nobody has offered to pay my bills, and German companies are unlikely to hire me considering that I don't speak German and with my troublesome background.

Similarly, Canada would be a very good option to move to, but it's a one in a million shot. I'd need someone to sponsor me, or I am not even getting into the country. Why would a Canadian company hire me considering the expenses of moving me there if they can just hire someone local?

I would apply for refugee status, but the United Nations hasn't finished adding the 'persecution due to intersex' clause to the refugee definition. Maybe next year.

Conclusion: without external help my chances of survival are just above zero.

Anyone got a suicide pill for me? It too would be very welcome help, as I am sick of fighting what turned out to be a futile struggle to even merely exist.


Saturday, 24 September 2011

Never Trust Anyone, Especially Not Dutch Physicians

Yesterday was quite an unpleasant day. Not only did I have my traumas kicked to the point of feeling physically ill and even right now still suffering from severe flashbacks, but I also had the urologist I had an appointment with last week Tuesday call me and basically brush me off, telling me to find a German physician myself.

The former incident was a combination of two things. First was finding out two days ago that people had been talking about me on some random forum (, referring to me as a 'tranny' and such, which I found hard to ignore as it hits the uncertainty and lack of self-esteem I have pretty hard. The second thing was a girl admitting to me that she was involved in the production of amateur porn. That latter incident especially hit me very hard. Feeling 'physically ill' isn't strong enough a term to describe how I felt. I'm pretty sure the combination of both items caused me to wake up at around 3 AM feeling very suicidal.

It may seem extreme to respond so severely to someone admitting such a thing, but I have always had difficulty with people who participate in the 'adult entertainment industry', as the euphemism goes. After my rape, sexual assault/abuse, etc. this has turned into a strong aversion against anything related to pornography. I can't watch it, I can't hear about it... it just makes me feel very, very ill, both mentally and physically. With rapid medical care for my intersex condition and the right trauma care, I could probably reduce the severity of these responses, but so far it seems unlikely that this will happen any time soon.

The incident with the urologist was pretty screwed up as well. I and my mother had been calling the urology department of the hospital where this Dr. Zweers works repeatedly this week, but even yesterday he hadn't even so much as looked at the request for a status update which was put on his desk on Wednesday. When he finally called me yesterday at around 5 PM he said that he hadn't found anything useful during the three days he spent at that urologist conference in Germany, and could only give me the name of someone who might be a urologist in Frankfurt called M. Solm. A Google search didn't turn up anyone with that name. Needlessly to say, I feel that Dr. Zweers was trying to get off easily and didn't have the nerve to tell me so. It wouldn't be the first time I experience this with Dutch physicians.

Luckily my mother remembered the location of a German clinic which is quite nearby. I sent that clinic an email with the request. Hopefully they'll respond positively and I can still get an appointment for that orchiectomy within two weeks time or so. It would be so nice to have the legal gender change request filed with the judge before this month is past.

In other news, a Canadian friend (married man with children, nothing too suspicious :) ) offered to send my CV to some Canadian companies in the hope that one of them might hire me, sponsor my visa and that way get me into Canada. Canada is a pretty good country for intersex people from what I have heard and seen, has a healthy economy, very beautiful nature, my best friend ever lives there and most people I know online live in North-America. It would also be very helpful to live in a country of which I speak the language better than the language I learned first. For these reasons I hope that I can get into Canada. Somehow I have to get a stable future, and the Netherlands is not the place for that, as yesterday's incident with the physician has made clear yet again.

I would very much appreciate it if people could ask around at Canadian companies for me. My CV/resume and portfolio are available on my website, For the full CV with contact information you will have to contact me. Thanks in advance!


Wednesday, 21 September 2011

End Of The Line? After Years Of Abuse Maya Hopes For A Future

She is intelligent and attractive. She speaks many spoken and programming languages fluently, and is a quick study. One would expect her life to be going quite smoothly considering her credentials. Instead she is considering ending her life because she can no longer see a future for herself. How could this happen? What went wrong?

Maya was born in 1983 in a small Dutch village. The first five or six years there was nothing unusual about her, aside from maybe how easily she became friends with everyone. Then for some reason Maya became quiet and began to withdraw into herself. It was the first sign of what was wrong, yet nobody could pick up on what was the matter. For fifteen years she'd stay like this, with even the discovery of her significant giftedness in 2002 offering only a partial explanation.

Puberty was disturbing for Maya, as her body didn't develop the way she had expected it to. Back then Maya still had a boy's name, as at birth they had assumed her to be a boy. During puberty she did however experience breast growth and developed a feminine skeleton. Later tests showed that she only had very low testosterone levels. It wasn't until 2005 that she discovered on her own that she was intersex, and later hermaphrodite as specific diagnosis. This is where things went wrong.

Even though two German clinics had confirmed this hermaphrodite diagnosis using an MRI scan, Dutch physicians and psychologists would deny this diagnosis, claiming that the MRI scans made didn't show anything unusual, ignoring Maya's physical build and attempting to brainwash her into believing that she had to be transsexual and wanted to be a woman. Maya did however constantly maintain that she was happy with her body the way it was, and that she was in fact a hermaphrodite. Dutch hospitals proceeded by faking a mosaic test and denying to perform more examinations.

After nearly seven years of this, Maya was forced to acknowledge her defeat; thanks to the refusal by the Dutch medical world to even classify her as being intersex and the brainwashing attempts she was diagnosed by her psychotherapist with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), mental conditions caused by extremely traumatic events.

Also due to this constant battle and the late discovery of her intersex condition she had been unable to develop herself emotionally, make friends, finish an education (though she did do a lot of self-study), or build up an income. Forced to live with her mother who has to get by on welfare, Maya longs desperately for a future, and a home. Somewhere where she can feel safe and protected. Some place where she can get the medical help she needs, as well as treatment for her traumas.

This place could be in Germany, but due to her poor financial situation, lack of income and her daily fight against her traumas, Maya fears that this is a new battle she can not win. She would therefore ask anyone who is reading this to somehow, some way help her get this future she so desperately longs for.



Sunday, 18 September 2011

The Big Question Of Life's Worth

I do not like calling myself depressed, suicidal or any of such negative terms. What it's all about is a balance of life's offerings, past, present and future. So far my problem in making up this balance is that nothing can seem to weigh up against the terrible things done to me by the Dutch physicians, psychologists, politicians and police. It is the main thing which keeps me from seeing life in a positive light and actually consider the possibility that being alive can be a good thing.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder... Dissociative Identity Disorder... they're all just words, but they are words which indicate an end condition caused by something so horrific one's mind can't deal with it and stay sane. Thus it's all filed away, like toxic waste dumped in the oceans. It's gone, but it's still there. You can't ever get rid of it. You can't ever deal with what has happened. Others can't see the gaping, constantly bleeding wounds in your face, on your abdomen, chest, limbs and everywhere else which make you look like something from a really gruesome horror movie.

What has happened is that all forms of happiness, joy and positive thinking have been ripped out of me by what I have experienced. The best I can achieve is a state of emotional numbness. Not being able to feel ever again would be a blessing. The images, sounds and other sensations of all those horrible things just won't leave me alone. Not when I'm awake. Not when I'm asleep.

What else does life have to offer to balance this out? What do you tell a soldier during a lull in the fighting when he has lost most of his comrades to enemy fire, as well as his wife, children and home during an enemy raid? What can one put against something so horrific to make life worth it again and stop all those horrible memories from appearing all the time, unwanted and hurtful?

I still haven't found that which will make me want to continue living. For now I'll just be sitting here, on a bench in front of the burned out remains of what used to be my innocence and home.


Thursday, 15 September 2011

Asking Human Rights Watch Why They Omitted Intersex

A brief while ago, Human Rights Watch ( published a report on the human rights violations by the Dutch government through its forcing of people to get sex-reassignment surgery if they want to change their official gender. Many other countries have already dropped this barbaric practice, including Spain. The report can be found at:

Now,the report only refers to intersex people in the most basic of terms, which is ridiculous since intersex is a far larger group and suffers from a similar problem in addition to many other severe problem due to regulations and laws. This is why I sent HRW the following letter:


Dear Sir/Madam,

In your recent report regarding human rights violations in the Netherlands ( the main focus is on transsexuals, with only a brief referral to and no mention of intersex, even though this latter group is many times larger (1 in every 25) than the former and suffers many of the same and various additional issues. It's also so that many if not most transsexuals are in fact intersex, either because they got forced genital surgery as a child, or because their intersex condition never got discovered and diagnosed.

Is there a particular reason why HRW seemingly ignored intersex in this report? In the Netherlands there's law 1:24 of the Dutch civil code which technically should allow intersex people to change their official gender, but which comes with the same surgery requirement. I am currently going through this procedure, having found a good lawyer who allows me to dodge some clauses of this law, and am forced to undergo orchiectomy to qualify for it (being infertile as a male, in this case). This procedure has to be performed in Germany, as Dutch hospitals would only do the orchiectomy as part of an SRS.

In my case I was born as a hermaphrodite, with no external opening for the vagina. For seven years I have attempted to get medical help including examinations and a diagnosis for what exactly my condition entails. I am okay with being a hermaphrodite, but only recently did I discover why I didn't get any help here: Disorder of Sexual Development, or DSD policies. Every resistance I encountered was due to physicians and psychologists pushing me towards 'fixing' my 'birth defect' by following the transsexual protocol and becoming a 'regular' woman.

Due to this resistance, the PTSD and other traumatic disorders I have suffered over the years, I have found myself forced to migrate to Germany. From what I have seen, my situation isn't a fluke, and I have seen much disrespect shown to transsexuals in the Netherlands at the VUMC's gender team.

I sincerely hope that HRW can expand the current report, or release a new report more focused on the general issues encountered by those who do not wish to conform to or do not fit easily into the binary male/female pattern.

Thank you for your attention,

Maya Posch

Project Manager for World Intersex Society for Humanity:

Tuesday, 13 September 2011

My Future Lies In Germany

After yesterday's blog post, my mother went to the family doctor's office to inquire after their reasons for refusing to provide a referral letter. She took the letter I wrote for the urologist with the reasoning behind my orchiectomy (castration) request with her. Thanks to her my family doctor finally relented and this morning I picked up the referral letter and went to see this urologist, Dr. Zweers.

Short version, the usual mess with the assistant calling for a Mr. Posch, many apologies and such from her side, and then Dr. Zweers himself. It didn't go bad at all. This doctor finally is one who is simply doing his job. He understands my situation, would like to see it carried out right away, but in the Netherlands in my situation that can only be legally done via a gender team. Or in Germany.

It just happened to be that Dr. Zweers is going to a urologist conference in Germany today, so he'll try to find a urologist there willing to perform the procedure and contact me about it. I expect to hear more next week.

The main thing I'm taking away from this is that Germany is indeed the right place to go to for someone like me. The Netherlands is horribly restrictive in countless ways, and not to mention bloody expensive in every regard. What I should find in Germany is proper medical care, and a relatively cheap place to live, surrounded by the beautiful nature of South-Germany. I'll take it :)


Monday, 12 September 2011

Looking For Peace On A Battlefield

Today I had to go to the police station to give yet another statement. The doctor's office which wanted to charge me for destruction of property now also wanted to charge me with threatening the doctors and others there. Even though this is obvious nonsense as I had warned them many times in advance about my PTSD and DID conditions, and it was their negligence in performing their regular duties which triggered things. It's now up to the Justice Department to decide on this.

Further I got a very nasty call from an assistant of my current family doctor, who is back from vacation. This assistant told me that I won't get a referral to a urologist after all, as he wants to 'prevent me from getting disappointed'. They told me to go to the gender team in Amsterdam, at the VUMC. The same place where I got my initial PTSD. Mentioning this didn't help. Another hospital I called, where a friend had already had contact with a urologist there, I got told that I might get an intake one month from now and it was very doubtful they could help me there. I am getting the impression that they all think that I'm some kind of icky transsexual who is trying to cheat the system and thus refuse to help me.

A few days ago my insurance company also refused to cover the electrolysis therapy I have to undergo to remove all facial hair. I had to request coverage under the term 'transsexual', as they do not know the term 'intersex', yet both cases are similar enough that it shouldn't give any issues. The request got rejected because a) I am still officially listed as being male, and b) I should have provided an indication for the necessity years ago and it's now too late.

I honestly can not deal with any of this any more. Nothing is possible. Nothing can be done or changed. Everything I try or do is wrong or misguided.

I wish I could request asylum in Germany or so.

I wish I could escape from this battlefield.

I wish I could escape to some place where I don't have to fight for a change...

Is there such a place? Does anyone know any? Can anyone help me? Please... *cries*


Sunday, 11 September 2011

Nursing The Raw Pain Inside My Heart

Today my brother and his new wife dropped by. It was the first time I saw them together, and it reminded me why I had avoided such a meeting so far. It evokes just far too many negative feelings inside me. They left earlier and I'm left with raw pain and sorrow tearing their way through my very soul. Note that I don't blame them for anything. They're just what they are: normal people.

I just got dealt a really bad hand of cards even before I was born which would disadvantage me for the rest of my life, which would make my youth a hell and stunt my emotional and social development. It would prevent me from making friends at any stage in life.

I feel like a small child. Just playing around while ignoring the world until something suddenly makes me look up from the sandbox I was playing in, and notice that all my fantasies are just that.

Why does it feel like I get all the hardships while others breeze ahead in life? The terrifying pain of not having any reasons for why my life has to be a Hell drives me towards the only action one can take in the face of ultimate meaninglessness: defying the terrors of life by terminating it, thus taking away the means through which it can hurt me.

I'm a child. A terrified child. A child locked in a closet by its parents for so long, it has forgotten how long it has been. All I know is uncertainty and sheer terror. I would dream of a better life, but I don't know how. There's just this darkness.

Maybe some day...

It'll be fine...

Keep fighting...

You're so strong...


There's only darkness. Only loneliness. Only this hole in my heart which makes me want to scream out in pain. Just voices whispering to me in the darkness. If only I could end it...