Hanging In The Balance

For as long as I can remember I have had this fantastic dream in which I lived a happy life, doing the things I liked, running a successful company not having any major things to concern myself with other than to chase even grander dreams.

Right now I'm sitting here in my mother's living room after wasting year after year on finding help with my intersexuality condition, and getting kicked out of the place where I used to live until about two months ago, even attempting to commit suicide over it and ending up in the hospital.

I have extremely severe PTSD, with some of the major causes still present, namely my unexplained intersexuality condition. I can not live without any kind of physical identity, just like nobody else can. The past few days especially my PTSD attacks have increased in severity, leading to my body getting taken over by this other, dark personality and making me think only about hurting others and myself while burning with pure hatred and intense despair. At the moment my chest and lower torso area are covered with painful bruises from where I hit myself over and over again.

The past months I have desperately been trying to get the medical help, as I have come to realize that it's the only way if I'm going to survive this hell. I'm currently in contact with the Accord Alliance, the former ISNA in North-America, which hasn't led to anything yet. I have encountered many dead email addresses. I am waiting for doctors and surgeons who are on vacation. I got told to contact the UZ Gent hospital in Belgium, which I have already done, and they turned out to be absolutely useless.

Recently each second of each waking moment I feel this tinge of fear, of panic inside me. I try to relax, to find something to distract me, but it is no longer working. Yesterday and this morning I had the worst PTSD attacks so far, which have shown me that my time is rapidly running out.

I have already quit looking for a place to live. I have now also given up on lobbying since Dutch politicians apparently couldn't care less. I only got the support from Linda Voortman from Groenlinks, but I'm pretty sure she has dropped the matter and me already as well. It's just impossible. And with me in this pitiful state even more so.

I'm still desperately trying to find medical help and recognition, but so far it seems that there is nothing in the UK and US either, only one dead end after another. Earlier today I got an email from another intersexual person, who has AIS, who seems to have a happy life, and offered to talk with me. I refused because I can not imagine how it could do anything else but make me feel worse.

I have indicated to my psychotherapist and this person from the crisis center who was supposed to help me with my Asperger's that it's probably a good idea to start looking at that euthanasia request, as there apparently isn't anything else they can be of service with to me. My mother sent them both a very angry email in which she expressed her frustration and disbelief at how those who are supposed to be helping me aren't doing so.

Unless there is some kind of miracle coming up really soon, it is paramount that I get a euthanasia request approved as soon as possible, or commit suicide, as otherwise I'll unquestionably resort to violence towards those who have harmed me in the past, like those bastards from the VUMC gender team. I'm already resorting to self-mutilation at this stage. Suicide would be a mild alternative to it.

If I manage to get through a day without getting terribly upset, feeling miserable or hurting myself, and manage to fall asleep that night without any issues, it's a major miracle.

My life is a hell. Every second that I'm alive is filled with pain and misery. People around me only remind me of what I can not have and what I will never have, and there isn't a single ray of light in my life. Everything is a miserable shade of grey. I think the only reasons why I'm alive at this stage is because of the tiny grains of joy I still find in life, mostly related to my work.

Beyond that I curse having been born with this freakish, awful, horrible, malformed body, and I curse this society of leering faces who can only taunt, laugh at me and otherwise make my life even more miserable. Curse you all.

I don't think there's much point in continuing this blog. If that unlikely medical miracle occurs you'll notice. Otherwise this is my last entry. There's just no bloody point in anything...