Identity unknown

Everything changes. I feel myself dragged along with the changes.

A home. Work. Fading stress.

New questions. Restless feelings and emotions.


Every day trying to convince myself to do the work that needs doing, yet feeling ever more unsettled by feelings of hopelessness and despair.

What's the meaning of the work I do? Of the projects I do in my spare time? Though it feels okay while I can push myself into doing some writing and programming, it's hard to see it all go anywhere. To see a future.

I cannot even see myself any more. Or maybe I never really did. This body of mine sometimes feels like that of a stranger. Other times I can just feel helpless rage and incredible sadness when I consider this body. When I consider being intersex and the many years of doctors and psychologists forcing the identity of a transsexual male on me instead of listening to me and performing medical tests, I just want to scream and cry.

The traumas and confusion of the past decades blur together even as I can still see the good memories during those years through my tears.


Every day I can feel that something isn't right inside my body as it goes through its monthly cycle. The constant distension that keeps worsening along with weight gain. The pain and discomfort in the lower abdomen and perineum that only subsides briefly after each cycle.

I should go to a doctor with it. Just like I have been trying for the past years. Last year started off with me getting exploratory surgery to investigate these pains, but like with every examination attempt but the proper surgery in 2011, nothing ever results from it. I cannot motivate myself any more to consider going to a doctor at this point, as it'd only add to the pain and trauma.

I have had a few people contact me who told me that they're intersex. They invariably ask for advice and help. Yet what can I offer there? Just tales of trauma and disappointment. Of decades wasted on ignorant, arrogant doctors and kin, and a lifetime of regrets for having wasted so many years on what turned out to be fruitless? I failed to find help. I can do nothing more about this intersex thing except hope that it doesn't cause real medical problems beyond chronic pain at some point.

Life would have been so much better if I wasn't born intersex. If intersex didn't exist. If it all just went up and vanished. Just like all of this other gender and sexuality and related nonsense. All it means to me is pain and suffering. I hate all of it. I wish I could just rip it out of my body. Become just a human being and leave the suffering behind that come with those disgusting things.


In some parallel universe I guess there was a me who did write that autobiography, didn't waste years on the useless medical system and who is doing pretty darn well. As for the me in this universe, I guess that person will be struggling month after month to keep up the energy to make enough to pay the rent and food, while still dreaming of a future in which everything will be better, without struggling and worries about health and such.

It's nice to be able to lie to oneself to not lose all hope.


Maya