I just found a letter in my mailbox from the surgeon who I visited in Munich last Thursday, containing a summary of his 'findings'. Forgive my French, but despite my rather more mild views of last week as I wrote them last Sunday, I find myself now thinking that this particular surgeon is a pretty impressive a*****e.
Despite not bothering to look at any of the documents sent to him over the past months and not interesting himself in my case beyond a casual glance during the half hour that I was there at the MRI scans and a singular fax with a basic summary, he still found it fit to conclude that my intersex diagnosis is 'questionable', that there's no evidence of endometriosis (suggesting that I just made it up) and concludes that when I am 'emotionally stable' I can come to him for 'normalisation surgery'.
In other words, he simultaneously denies me having an intersex condition, but still feels that he can 'correct' said intersex condition through surgical means. He also denies that I have any serious monthly symptoms.
Basically he thinks that I'm a liar and essentially crazy.
Despite me having a body with a definite female phenotype, a natural female hormone balance, a monthly hormonal cycle and basically not a single hint of me being even partially male beyond having a penis and XY chromosomes in some tissues, that all doesn't suffice. During the appointment he also insisted that because of the use of estradiol testosterone levels drop (untrue), which would explain why I only used a quarter of the testosterone blocker a male to female transsexual would use.
Basically this surgeon is just like every other DSD-supporting, genocidal, anti-intersex 'doctor' I have encountered over the years.
I can only hope that this new specialist isn't like that. Otherwise it's a dead end. At this point I feel more dissociated of my body than I have in a couple of years. I don't know what this stupid body is. I hate that I don't know it. It hurts to not know it. Feeling pain and numbness without knowing why terrifies me. All of it makes me want to hurt it out of fear and frustration.
I guess I must continue living. I guess. I don't know why. Not when it hurts. Not when people keep hurting me like this and denying me the right to even exist.
I'd still really like to die, though. Life isn't worth it. Not for me. Not like this. Not without any perspective on a future.