In the case against the VUmc gender team I lost because Dutch physicians (almost) all agreed that I am not intersex. In the case against my former Dutch health insurance company Univé they can comfortably slide back into the defence that there's no proper medical diagnosis yet due to the Dutch and German physicians not agreeing on what I am. Wherever I go, whatever I do, the question of 'what am I' is being twisted and changed depending on where one looks or asks. The average person may think that after I got my official gender change approved by a judge in the Netherlands that the battle has been fought and won by me, but nothing could be further from the truth.
The Dutch physicians, psychologists and related rabidly stick to the position that I am not a hermaphrodite, that I am not intersex in any way, form or shape, but merely a feminine-looking, biological male. The statements, conclusions and MRI/surgery/biopsy reports from Germany are dismissed as being 'wrong'. I think that the German physicians are right, but at this point I have no way to know for certain. Without stronger, better evidence I can not win or get justice in the Netherlands.
On a personal level it's not much different. Ten years of fighting against severe doubts cast both by others and myself have left their mark. I'm waiting for better evidence myself, too. While I do not think that I am a biological male, I am having trouble telling myself what I am then. 'Hermaphrodite' is the German conclusion, yet I do not see the female genitals nor am I able to use them in any way. I do feel severe monthly abdominal pains which could be a period, but I'm not past telling myself that it's just imaginary, psychosomatic pain. I need more evidence here to know what is truly going on.
The only solution here is to undergo surgery. If I truly have this closed-off vagina all German physicians so far have said I possess, then connecting it back to the perineum and restoring these female genitals to what they should have formed into before I was even born, then that would be all the evidence one needs. Having obviously both male and female genitals at that point nobody could deny any more that I am a hermaphrodite and thus intersex. Not Dutch physicians or health insurance companies. Not me, either.
At this point an internal examination via the vagina would also be possible to finally learn what is going on when I have these monthly pains. My GP already got me a reference for a gynaecologist as well as a name of someone she recommends. This seems like a very good idea to set up soon. This uncertainty can not last forever.
Just one week until I know whether I will have this surgery. One week from now at this time I should be back home in Karlsruhe from my surgeon appointment. I should know by then what he can and wants to do and have made a surgery appointment. I hope this is going to be the one. The end of every single uncertainty and the main source of my depressions, continued PTSD and suicidal thoughts. Finally the truth being revealed.
Everyone will finally know what I am.
Maya
Friday, 18 April 2014
Sunday, 13 April 2014
Kimi Ga Nozomu Eien, Or Fiction Mirroring Reality
As I haven't had internet at home for well over two weeks now due to my internet provider (KabelBW) screwing up on the transition from a regular to a business account, I have fortunately have had a chance to revisit an anime series I have only once watched before. The series is called Kimi ga Nozomu Eien [1] ('You Long for Eternity') and when I first watched it was probably in 2005 or thereabouts. Back then I doubt that I got the full impact of this series' story and the interaction between the characters. This time around it was quite different, with its story hitting me like the proverbial ton of bricks. Note that many spoilers will follow for those who haven't watched this (10-year old) series yet.
KgNE's story starts like so many with a sunny, happy-go-lucky group of students and their relations. The shy girl, Haruka, gets hooked up with the main character, Takayuki, through the efforts of the others and a relationship blossoms. It wouldn't be much of a story if things stayed just like that, of course. That's why, when Takayuki is late for a date with Haruka, he gets stopped by Mitsuki, who makes him buy a present for her birthday even though he is late already. She picks a ring from a street vendor, after which Takayuki rushes off to his date.
At the agreed-upon location at the station he finds a scene of carnage, with police cars, ambulances and a big crowd surrounding an area near the station. It takes Takayuki a few moments to realize that it was Haruka who was the victim there, as a police officer reads out her name on the radio to HQ. Haruka isn't dead, but requires immediate surgery due to the car hitting her as she was standing there. Cue scenes of Takayuki waiting in the hospital, breaking down as he sees Haruka's parents in tears.
Fast-forward three years and Haruka is still in a coma. Mitsuki and Takayuki have meanwhile found each other in what can only in the most liberal terms be called a relationship. This becomes especially pronounced when Haruka awakes from her coma. To not shock her too much, everyone pretends that almost no time has passed since the accident and that things are still the way they were three years ago. Mitsuki quitting the swimming team because she lost all self-confidence, Takayuki giving up his university studies for much the same reason and both their relationship with each other, everything is ignored.
In the end the truth always comes to light of course. In this case by Haruka's younger sister, Akane, who tells the truth in front of everyone, fed up and frustrated as she is with this charade. As Haruka lapses back into unconsciousness as a result of this shock, Akane is left wondering whether she did the right thing. It seems to push everything forwards, though, and as Haruka awakes again after a few days, she seems to have changed. Gone is the innocent little girl of three years ago. Instead she seems to have aged many years while asleep, almost turning into a different person.
In the end Haruka and Takayuki have their last conversation outside the hospital, while viewing the ocean next to which the hospital is located. There Haruka tells Takayuki about this great fairy tale she read in the book she was looking for three years ago already. It's about an immortal fairy who encounters a group of children with whom she becomes friends until eventually the children grow older and forget about her. Except for the first girl who she met. With her she has one final conversation, during which they say farewell, both knowing that this has to be the end. With the story ended, Haruka and Takayuki say their own farewells.
The most interesting thing about this story is in my opinion that it isn't really about the main character, Takayuki, but about Haruka. She is the one who goes through so much character development and changes from a shy young girl into a successful author of children's books. The others more or less flounder around her, except for maybe the other friend, Shinji, who pursues his university studies, not letting things sway him too much from his ultimate goal.
One scene which is also very emotionally charged and recognizable to me is the one where Haruka is hitting her shrivelled legs with her fists for not obeying her commands to move while she's going through rehabilitation. The realization that she has lost three years of her life frustrates her, and yet she isn't blaming anyone for this. While Mitsuki can't look at the ring on her finger without feeling nagging guilt which she quickly pushes away and Takayuki keeps blaming himself for not being on time, Haruka only seeks to push herself harder to make up for all this lost time. Thus she keeps moving forward, while the other two remain stuck in time.
While obviously a fictional story, I think that KgNE has a lot of important lessons in it, most of all about how to deal with difficult situations in a relationship, or when the unthinkable happens, like one's loved one lapsing into a coma without knowing when or if they will ever awake from it. It shows the importance of transparency and honesty, both to others and oneself. Both Haruka and Shinji always stayed honest to themselves and thus can live their lives without too many regrets, while Mitsuki and Takayuki even when everything has been said and done keep feeling torn by regrets and sorrow. Akane once followed Mitsuki as an idol, but through the course of the series comes to see her sister as the true idol.
In the end this second viewing of KgNE for me was a very touching and emotional event. Haruka's struggles so reminded me of what I have gone through since I first watched the series. The frustration over having lost so much time, the urge to make up for it and the need to move on by saying farewell to what has been and can no longer be. Sometimes fiction is a true mirror of reality.
Maya
[1] http://anidb.net/perl-bin/animedb.pl?show=anime&aid=896
KgNE's story starts like so many with a sunny, happy-go-lucky group of students and their relations. The shy girl, Haruka, gets hooked up with the main character, Takayuki, through the efforts of the others and a relationship blossoms. It wouldn't be much of a story if things stayed just like that, of course. That's why, when Takayuki is late for a date with Haruka, he gets stopped by Mitsuki, who makes him buy a present for her birthday even though he is late already. She picks a ring from a street vendor, after which Takayuki rushes off to his date.
At the agreed-upon location at the station he finds a scene of carnage, with police cars, ambulances and a big crowd surrounding an area near the station. It takes Takayuki a few moments to realize that it was Haruka who was the victim there, as a police officer reads out her name on the radio to HQ. Haruka isn't dead, but requires immediate surgery due to the car hitting her as she was standing there. Cue scenes of Takayuki waiting in the hospital, breaking down as he sees Haruka's parents in tears.
Fast-forward three years and Haruka is still in a coma. Mitsuki and Takayuki have meanwhile found each other in what can only in the most liberal terms be called a relationship. This becomes especially pronounced when Haruka awakes from her coma. To not shock her too much, everyone pretends that almost no time has passed since the accident and that things are still the way they were three years ago. Mitsuki quitting the swimming team because she lost all self-confidence, Takayuki giving up his university studies for much the same reason and both their relationship with each other, everything is ignored.
In the end the truth always comes to light of course. In this case by Haruka's younger sister, Akane, who tells the truth in front of everyone, fed up and frustrated as she is with this charade. As Haruka lapses back into unconsciousness as a result of this shock, Akane is left wondering whether she did the right thing. It seems to push everything forwards, though, and as Haruka awakes again after a few days, she seems to have changed. Gone is the innocent little girl of three years ago. Instead she seems to have aged many years while asleep, almost turning into a different person.
In the end Haruka and Takayuki have their last conversation outside the hospital, while viewing the ocean next to which the hospital is located. There Haruka tells Takayuki about this great fairy tale she read in the book she was looking for three years ago already. It's about an immortal fairy who encounters a group of children with whom she becomes friends until eventually the children grow older and forget about her. Except for the first girl who she met. With her she has one final conversation, during which they say farewell, both knowing that this has to be the end. With the story ended, Haruka and Takayuki say their own farewells.
The most interesting thing about this story is in my opinion that it isn't really about the main character, Takayuki, but about Haruka. She is the one who goes through so much character development and changes from a shy young girl into a successful author of children's books. The others more or less flounder around her, except for maybe the other friend, Shinji, who pursues his university studies, not letting things sway him too much from his ultimate goal.
One scene which is also very emotionally charged and recognizable to me is the one where Haruka is hitting her shrivelled legs with her fists for not obeying her commands to move while she's going through rehabilitation. The realization that she has lost three years of her life frustrates her, and yet she isn't blaming anyone for this. While Mitsuki can't look at the ring on her finger without feeling nagging guilt which she quickly pushes away and Takayuki keeps blaming himself for not being on time, Haruka only seeks to push herself harder to make up for all this lost time. Thus she keeps moving forward, while the other two remain stuck in time.
While obviously a fictional story, I think that KgNE has a lot of important lessons in it, most of all about how to deal with difficult situations in a relationship, or when the unthinkable happens, like one's loved one lapsing into a coma without knowing when or if they will ever awake from it. It shows the importance of transparency and honesty, both to others and oneself. Both Haruka and Shinji always stayed honest to themselves and thus can live their lives without too many regrets, while Mitsuki and Takayuki even when everything has been said and done keep feeling torn by regrets and sorrow. Akane once followed Mitsuki as an idol, but through the course of the series comes to see her sister as the true idol.
In the end this second viewing of KgNE for me was a very touching and emotional event. Haruka's struggles so reminded me of what I have gone through since I first watched the series. The frustration over having lost so much time, the urge to make up for it and the need to move on by saying farewell to what has been and can no longer be. Sometimes fiction is a true mirror of reality.
Maya
[1] http://anidb.net/perl-bin/animedb.pl?show=anime&aid=896
Saturday, 5 April 2014
At The End Of The Path There's Only Sadness And Darkness
I had tried my best: keeping up a strong face, taking on things which I knew would break me and ignoring everything which didn't fit with this image of the perfect me. As I sunk down onto the floor of the room between the desks I could see her near me, next to the window. She reached out to me, then pulled back, clearly uncertain as I broke down in tears and said in between sobs that I simply should never have existed. That my whole existence was one big mistake.
That is where last night's dream left me. One could call it a nightmare, but I would disagree with that assessment. Real life is the nightmare. When I break down in real life there no is one nearby to help or comfort me. Every day I cannot help but curse my existence and this body. Of course I could just blame the Dutch physicians and psychologists for foregoing any sense of professionalism and torturing me physically and psychologically for a decade straight. Yet I can not shake off the feeling that they were somehow justified in doing what they did. Maybe the way I was born truly was a mistake and should have been corrected.
I am quite aware of the fact that I didn't move to Germany because I like the country so much, but purely for the medical care and to escape the horrors of the Netherlands. This also means that I do not know where my true home is or whether I'll ever find it. A place where I'll truly feel that I belong. Maybe it's true what they say about finding a home inside one's heart. Accepting oneself and feeling at ease, after which everything else will fall into place. I know I can not escape the horrors of the past decades as they are a part of my very being, permeating every memory and recollection I have. One can not feel at home in the midst of a rotting, swamp where everything smells of decay.
The end of this month I'll be going to the clinic near Munich by myself. This is okay. I may get the surgery soon after that. There won't be anyone looking after me after the surgery. This is also okay. This surgery will merely close off something for myself inside my head, locking away recollections I have come to loathe. Recollections which I am writing down in my autobiography at this point and which I hate. It's not who I am, not who I ever wanted to become or what I wanted my life to look like. Nothing else will change for me. I'm still catching up on the about twenty years of my life I have lost somehow.
When I had the bicycle accident a few weeks ago I had impressive bruises and the like. To me it was amazing how people responded to the sight of it, evoking a strong emotional response in them. This is where I wish that my intersex condition had somehow horribly deformed me in a physical manner. I feel cursed by looking like a pretty, attractive female as it obscures the gaping, bleeding wounds inside of me. It feels like all the damage done to me in the Netherlands can be brushed off by simply pointing at me and saying how pretty and healthy I look. I wish that my outside matched up with the injuries inside, including scars and never-healing wounds. Maybe that's why during PTSD episodes I try to tear off my own skin. I don't know.
I'm just trotting down this eerily moonlit path, doing what people ask and demand of me while finding enough free time to work on myself as well. I can see images, memories flash by quickly, but I can not touch or interact with any of them. They're spirits, just like the people I see. I feel trapped at the wrong side of the mirror as I wonder what happened that things became like this. I know that at some point the path will end, the moonlight will vanish and all that I'm left with will be my regrets and sadness.
Then I can weep silently in the darkness as I curse this fate that was thrust upon me through this accursed body and whisper with a broken voice that I should never have been born.
Maya
That is where last night's dream left me. One could call it a nightmare, but I would disagree with that assessment. Real life is the nightmare. When I break down in real life there no is one nearby to help or comfort me. Every day I cannot help but curse my existence and this body. Of course I could just blame the Dutch physicians and psychologists for foregoing any sense of professionalism and torturing me physically and psychologically for a decade straight. Yet I can not shake off the feeling that they were somehow justified in doing what they did. Maybe the way I was born truly was a mistake and should have been corrected.
I am quite aware of the fact that I didn't move to Germany because I like the country so much, but purely for the medical care and to escape the horrors of the Netherlands. This also means that I do not know where my true home is or whether I'll ever find it. A place where I'll truly feel that I belong. Maybe it's true what they say about finding a home inside one's heart. Accepting oneself and feeling at ease, after which everything else will fall into place. I know I can not escape the horrors of the past decades as they are a part of my very being, permeating every memory and recollection I have. One can not feel at home in the midst of a rotting, swamp where everything smells of decay.
The end of this month I'll be going to the clinic near Munich by myself. This is okay. I may get the surgery soon after that. There won't be anyone looking after me after the surgery. This is also okay. This surgery will merely close off something for myself inside my head, locking away recollections I have come to loathe. Recollections which I am writing down in my autobiography at this point and which I hate. It's not who I am, not who I ever wanted to become or what I wanted my life to look like. Nothing else will change for me. I'm still catching up on the about twenty years of my life I have lost somehow.
When I had the bicycle accident a few weeks ago I had impressive bruises and the like. To me it was amazing how people responded to the sight of it, evoking a strong emotional response in them. This is where I wish that my intersex condition had somehow horribly deformed me in a physical manner. I feel cursed by looking like a pretty, attractive female as it obscures the gaping, bleeding wounds inside of me. It feels like all the damage done to me in the Netherlands can be brushed off by simply pointing at me and saying how pretty and healthy I look. I wish that my outside matched up with the injuries inside, including scars and never-healing wounds. Maybe that's why during PTSD episodes I try to tear off my own skin. I don't know.
I'm just trotting down this eerily moonlit path, doing what people ask and demand of me while finding enough free time to work on myself as well. I can see images, memories flash by quickly, but I can not touch or interact with any of them. They're spirits, just like the people I see. I feel trapped at the wrong side of the mirror as I wonder what happened that things became like this. I know that at some point the path will end, the moonlight will vanish and all that I'm left with will be my regrets and sadness.
Then I can weep silently in the darkness as I curse this fate that was thrust upon me through this accursed body and whisper with a broken voice that I should never have been born.
Maya
Sunday, 30 March 2014
The Power Of Believing, Or Self-Deception
Even as a child I was always the curious one, reading books and taking things apart to see how machines and the universe itself worked. Trying to make sense of things around me defined me as a person. Yet part of what bothered me about human society wasn't really put properly into words until I began to read Terry Pratchett's Discworld series. I think it was the book 'Small Gods' in which it was first mentioned.
In the Discworld universe it's commonly accepted that a god or goddess can only exist with believers and that if enough people believe in a certain god, that god will come into existence, taking its place among the others at the really tall mountain at the center of the (flat) Discworld world. This is no different from in real life, where countless deities have been imagined and forgotten about again. While believing in a certain deity does not cause it to spontaneously pop into existence (as far as we know), the basic principle remains the same. Not just for religions but also for countless other things in human society.
When separating reality, we can divide things into 'real' and 'imagined', or more succinctly 'scientifically verifiable' and 'exists only while people believe it does'. Countries are an obvious fabrication falling into the latter group, as pointing to the ground and saying 'my country starts here' would in another time be deemed a sign of lunacy and cause for concern about said person's mental well-being. The difference between it and proclaiming to have heard voices instructing one to run around the city naked while covered in maple syrup are marginal at best. At most one can say that the first instance has certain financial benefits.
To any rational person it should be blatantly obvious in the face of the available evidence that there are no gods, that countries and currencies are a fabrication. That many things we humans concern ourselves with on a daily basis are completely thought up and of no relevance outside this imagined fabric of society. Relationships are another thing like that. To the unclouded mind it's impossible to not see that once one cuts away the frilly details, heterosexual couples exist for procreation. Or simply put, combining the genetic programming instructing the individual to produce offspring with the human brain's tendency to feel lonely and seek companionship. That these couples form solely based on what one's programming says are the desired parameters in said companionship should make it abundantly clear that the frill of 'love', 'soul mate' and such are the cover story humans make up to excuse these basic desires and give them an apparent purpose.
Opposing such sexuality-driven relationships is cooperation, whereby individuals come together to work together on a common goal. This is the purely rational type of relationship and generally referred to as a Platonic relationship. The only reason why not everyone is in the latter of relationship in society is due to the genetic programming. See for example so-called asexual individuals, who demonstrate a complete disinterest in sexuality. What this demonstrates is that many things in human society and interactions are driven by genetic-level programming. Even more interesting is how this type of programming can be passed on to offspring using epigenetic programming, which is a kind of meta-level on to top of regular DNA, provoking single-generation evolution.
Finally there is another type of programming at work, this one working on a neurological level in the form of viruses. Not physical, RNA/DNA-based viruses, but memes: certain thought patterns which can be transferred between individuals and which - if accepted by the new host - can alter the working of one's brain on a fundamental level, changing perceptions and behaviour. This is where the imaginary reality largely comes from. Ideas are memes, in essence. The idea of a country, of one individual being better than another (see kings, ministers, apartheid, etc.) are such memes. They propagate within a society, much like a physical virus does. Some memes are successful and find rich breeding grounds, while others fade and disappear.
This pattern memes follow coincides with the appearance of new countries, religions and cultures. At one point there was no Christianity or a Christian god, yet then it was imagined and became a successful meme. A few hundred years ago there was no United States of America or even the concept of it, yet now we can not imagine otherwise. This also shows that wars are due to memes. Because of memes which lived in Europe in the late 19th and early 20th century the First World War became a fact. The memes responsible did not vanish after this, resulting in the Second World War and many smaller wars and conflicts lasting until today. All that people in them fought for was imaginary.
And thus we have come to the thing which puzzled me as a child already: how people can so strongly believe in things when there is no rational basis for it. As a child I struggled to accept that other children believed in Santa Claus and the like, as well as went to church in the belief that some supernatural being wanted them to do so. It always made me feel very awkward, such as when I visited such children at their home and they started praying at the dinner table. I didn't want to call out the new clothes of the Emperor for what they were, as that would be offensive.
The past decade my focus on what is and isn't real got another major test, when I had to separate fact from fiction in my own medical case. What were the facts, who was lying or just plain wrong? Why did I get such wildly differing results? Could hidden agendas be at play here? What medical politics was keeping those physicians from just being honest with me? And so on.
What those experiences have taught me the most is that I do not care in the slightest for imaginary things and that I would much rather spend my life living as far away as possible from religions, countries, politics and other purely imagined fabrications of the human mind. In the end they bring one nothing good. Scientific reality is where I have found solace since I was young, as it never lies or betrays and rejects deception.
In so far as I wanted to say anything with this post it probably is that want to make clear to myself and others why I think and am like I am. Truth, logic and reason have always been the cornerstones of me as a person and I do not wish for this to change, no matter how tough things may get. While it's easy to lose oneself in an imaginary reality, in the end it's where one loses one's humanity to the chaos of neurological and epigenetic programming. I do not wish to end up like that.
Maya
In the Discworld universe it's commonly accepted that a god or goddess can only exist with believers and that if enough people believe in a certain god, that god will come into existence, taking its place among the others at the really tall mountain at the center of the (flat) Discworld world. This is no different from in real life, where countless deities have been imagined and forgotten about again. While believing in a certain deity does not cause it to spontaneously pop into existence (as far as we know), the basic principle remains the same. Not just for religions but also for countless other things in human society.
When separating reality, we can divide things into 'real' and 'imagined', or more succinctly 'scientifically verifiable' and 'exists only while people believe it does'. Countries are an obvious fabrication falling into the latter group, as pointing to the ground and saying 'my country starts here' would in another time be deemed a sign of lunacy and cause for concern about said person's mental well-being. The difference between it and proclaiming to have heard voices instructing one to run around the city naked while covered in maple syrup are marginal at best. At most one can say that the first instance has certain financial benefits.
To any rational person it should be blatantly obvious in the face of the available evidence that there are no gods, that countries and currencies are a fabrication. That many things we humans concern ourselves with on a daily basis are completely thought up and of no relevance outside this imagined fabric of society. Relationships are another thing like that. To the unclouded mind it's impossible to not see that once one cuts away the frilly details, heterosexual couples exist for procreation. Or simply put, combining the genetic programming instructing the individual to produce offspring with the human brain's tendency to feel lonely and seek companionship. That these couples form solely based on what one's programming says are the desired parameters in said companionship should make it abundantly clear that the frill of 'love', 'soul mate' and such are the cover story humans make up to excuse these basic desires and give them an apparent purpose.
Opposing such sexuality-driven relationships is cooperation, whereby individuals come together to work together on a common goal. This is the purely rational type of relationship and generally referred to as a Platonic relationship. The only reason why not everyone is in the latter of relationship in society is due to the genetic programming. See for example so-called asexual individuals, who demonstrate a complete disinterest in sexuality. What this demonstrates is that many things in human society and interactions are driven by genetic-level programming. Even more interesting is how this type of programming can be passed on to offspring using epigenetic programming, which is a kind of meta-level on to top of regular DNA, provoking single-generation evolution.
Finally there is another type of programming at work, this one working on a neurological level in the form of viruses. Not physical, RNA/DNA-based viruses, but memes: certain thought patterns which can be transferred between individuals and which - if accepted by the new host - can alter the working of one's brain on a fundamental level, changing perceptions and behaviour. This is where the imaginary reality largely comes from. Ideas are memes, in essence. The idea of a country, of one individual being better than another (see kings, ministers, apartheid, etc.) are such memes. They propagate within a society, much like a physical virus does. Some memes are successful and find rich breeding grounds, while others fade and disappear.
This pattern memes follow coincides with the appearance of new countries, religions and cultures. At one point there was no Christianity or a Christian god, yet then it was imagined and became a successful meme. A few hundred years ago there was no United States of America or even the concept of it, yet now we can not imagine otherwise. This also shows that wars are due to memes. Because of memes which lived in Europe in the late 19th and early 20th century the First World War became a fact. The memes responsible did not vanish after this, resulting in the Second World War and many smaller wars and conflicts lasting until today. All that people in them fought for was imaginary.
And thus we have come to the thing which puzzled me as a child already: how people can so strongly believe in things when there is no rational basis for it. As a child I struggled to accept that other children believed in Santa Claus and the like, as well as went to church in the belief that some supernatural being wanted them to do so. It always made me feel very awkward, such as when I visited such children at their home and they started praying at the dinner table. I didn't want to call out the new clothes of the Emperor for what they were, as that would be offensive.
The past decade my focus on what is and isn't real got another major test, when I had to separate fact from fiction in my own medical case. What were the facts, who was lying or just plain wrong? Why did I get such wildly differing results? Could hidden agendas be at play here? What medical politics was keeping those physicians from just being honest with me? And so on.
What those experiences have taught me the most is that I do not care in the slightest for imaginary things and that I would much rather spend my life living as far away as possible from religions, countries, politics and other purely imagined fabrications of the human mind. In the end they bring one nothing good. Scientific reality is where I have found solace since I was young, as it never lies or betrays and rejects deception.
In so far as I wanted to say anything with this post it probably is that want to make clear to myself and others why I think and am like I am. Truth, logic and reason have always been the cornerstones of me as a person and I do not wish for this to change, no matter how tough things may get. While it's easy to lose oneself in an imaginary reality, in the end it's where one loses one's humanity to the chaos of neurological and epigenetic programming. I do not wish to end up like that.
Maya
Friday, 28 March 2014
How I Am Doing
I am doing fine, after a difficult start in Germany things are now settling into place, with my own apartment, things going well at my job and I might soon see an end to my medical troubles thanks to my new family doctor and surgeon. I meet more and more people and am having more of a social life than I have ever had before. I'm rapidly learning German and becoming a part of this country. My work on the technical reference book on AndEngine as well as my autobiography is continuing.
I am doing okay, it's still a struggle, with issues with the apartment I rented continuing including the noise from the central heating system. At my job things are all right, though my past keeps haunting me when I'm being chided for being too shy and withdrawn. I want to explain, make everyone understand, but I know they never will. I know that I would not really be missed if I suddenly were to vanish. It's okay, I have always been quite invisible. I have some hope that the surgery will work out, but a decade of experiences tells me to not put too much hope into it.
I'm not doing very well. In the store today I had to cringe and force my thoughts into a non-dangerous direction when the music playing in the store contained lyrics involving the phrase 'making love', which is one of those phrases which trigger my traumas regarding sexuality. I feel assaulted any time, anywhere like this. With couples everywhere holding hands, kissing, fondling and what not, I keep having to divert my thoughts to keep myself from freaking out. I'm secluding myself due to this, not meeting people and preferring to keep my distance. I don't want to accept that people have relationships and that sexuality is an actual thing. If I did, I would break down. I know that I'll never get surgery or any proper help with my intersex condition. I know that this will keep worsening my traumas related to sexuality and related.
All of this is true, and all of this is false. These are parallel realities which regularly cross into each other, swapping places and diverging again. Each reality is no more real or fake than the other. None of them can tolerate the others. At least one of them is self-destructive and drives me to complete despair.
There are some ways out of this situation. One of them involves a successful surgery. Late next month I have my initial appointment with my current surgeon. The logistics for this appointment I still have to take care of, regarding travelling, possibly staying the night somewhere. I would love to have someone accompanying me for mental support to the appointment. If it works out, I could have surgery within two months. It would enable me to begin healing from the damage done to me by the Dutch physicians and psychologists as I could finally form a healthy self-image.
My problem is that of this intense hatred against sexuality and against my body in general. I loathe, hate and despise both, as both are closely linked. Not hating myself and not wanting to mutilate or destroy this body I inhabit is one of my full-time jobs. I accept that I will lose this struggle in the long run and thus I need help with it to prevent a certain descent into destruction. At this point this surgery is the only thing which I know of that could help me.
Why? Because I'm still waiting for myself to accept my body as it is, as at this point I do not know anything about my body. People tell me that I am intersex and a hermaphrodite, while others say I'm not. I have been physically and psychologically raped by physicians and psychologists so many times that I feel disgusted looking at this body. Always ready to accept another physician to violate it and a psychologist to condemn it while destroying any sense of worth I might still have.
This surgery could give me back my body. It would at least show to me what my body is truly like instead of some freakish distortion. I'm not a woman. I'm not a man. I'm not intersex. I'm nothing. Just a freak. Yet all of that is nonsense. I can not escape this infinite cycle within my thoughts. If I had this surgery and could finally see and feel for real what my body is, I could maybe break this cycle. I could be myself for the first time in my life. Maybe it would also finally allow me to feel like an adult, instead of a scared, abused child.
There's no need to ask how I am doing right now, for I don't exist.
Maya
I am doing okay, it's still a struggle, with issues with the apartment I rented continuing including the noise from the central heating system. At my job things are all right, though my past keeps haunting me when I'm being chided for being too shy and withdrawn. I want to explain, make everyone understand, but I know they never will. I know that I would not really be missed if I suddenly were to vanish. It's okay, I have always been quite invisible. I have some hope that the surgery will work out, but a decade of experiences tells me to not put too much hope into it.
I'm not doing very well. In the store today I had to cringe and force my thoughts into a non-dangerous direction when the music playing in the store contained lyrics involving the phrase 'making love', which is one of those phrases which trigger my traumas regarding sexuality. I feel assaulted any time, anywhere like this. With couples everywhere holding hands, kissing, fondling and what not, I keep having to divert my thoughts to keep myself from freaking out. I'm secluding myself due to this, not meeting people and preferring to keep my distance. I don't want to accept that people have relationships and that sexuality is an actual thing. If I did, I would break down. I know that I'll never get surgery or any proper help with my intersex condition. I know that this will keep worsening my traumas related to sexuality and related.
All of this is true, and all of this is false. These are parallel realities which regularly cross into each other, swapping places and diverging again. Each reality is no more real or fake than the other. None of them can tolerate the others. At least one of them is self-destructive and drives me to complete despair.
There are some ways out of this situation. One of them involves a successful surgery. Late next month I have my initial appointment with my current surgeon. The logistics for this appointment I still have to take care of, regarding travelling, possibly staying the night somewhere. I would love to have someone accompanying me for mental support to the appointment. If it works out, I could have surgery within two months. It would enable me to begin healing from the damage done to me by the Dutch physicians and psychologists as I could finally form a healthy self-image.
My problem is that of this intense hatred against sexuality and against my body in general. I loathe, hate and despise both, as both are closely linked. Not hating myself and not wanting to mutilate or destroy this body I inhabit is one of my full-time jobs. I accept that I will lose this struggle in the long run and thus I need help with it to prevent a certain descent into destruction. At this point this surgery is the only thing which I know of that could help me.
Why? Because I'm still waiting for myself to accept my body as it is, as at this point I do not know anything about my body. People tell me that I am intersex and a hermaphrodite, while others say I'm not. I have been physically and psychologically raped by physicians and psychologists so many times that I feel disgusted looking at this body. Always ready to accept another physician to violate it and a psychologist to condemn it while destroying any sense of worth I might still have.
This surgery could give me back my body. It would at least show to me what my body is truly like instead of some freakish distortion. I'm not a woman. I'm not a man. I'm not intersex. I'm nothing. Just a freak. Yet all of that is nonsense. I can not escape this infinite cycle within my thoughts. If I had this surgery and could finally see and feel for real what my body is, I could maybe break this cycle. I could be myself for the first time in my life. Maybe it would also finally allow me to feel like an adult, instead of a scared, abused child.
There's no need to ask how I am doing right now, for I don't exist.
Maya
Thursday, 27 March 2014
Intersex Discrimination Hearing Results And My Ambiguous Feelings On The Netherlands
On Monday the 24th I travelled to my current home city of Karlsruhe, Germany to Utrecht in the Netherlands. There I met up with a friend of a friend at whose place I would be spending the night. The next morning I made my way to the office of the College voor de Rechten van de Mens (Human Rights Institute) for the hearing which took place there against my former health insurance company Univé. Representatives of the general health insurance organization CVZ and from the Ministry of VWS (Health, etc.) were present as well.
During the hearing which took well over an hour the facts as they had been gathered in the letter exchange of the past months (detailed on this blog as well) were put together. In essence it came down to that the Ministry hadn't done anything untoward as the legal article they had written was neutral and implicitly inclusive. The interpretation of this article by CVZ was addressed, however, as the interpretation they had provided of said article had been unclear and focused on transsexuals. The question to CVZ by the College thus was how they defined 'intersex' and whether this falls into their interpretation of this law article.
CVZ seemed to be quite ignorant of what intersex exactly was, quoting a statement by one of their medical advisors that only three types of intersex were defined before (hermaphroditism, semi-hermaphroditism, gonadal), something which is patently false. They then went on to reference DSD as the new and current term, which would be better because it is more inclusive. While I vehemently disagreed with this statement, I did not interject or otherwise object against these statements as it did not directly affect my case. CVZ ultimately did agree that there are a lot of conditions which would also fall within the reference frame when applying this law to individuals. The conclusion here was that with me being intersex, I should have received full coverage.
Finally Univé was left to make a statement on how it wished to proceed from this point. Here a clear tactical retreat was made, with the Univé representative stating that they might be willing to retroactively cover all of the costs I have made while undergoing the hair-removal therapy over the past years (over 6,000 Euro still uncovered), if they could verify via an independent Dutch physician that I am in fact intersex. The College asked Univé to clarify what kind of medical information they would further need to prove that I am intersex, quoting a section from a report from the surgeon from Hamburg in which he stated that I have an intersex body in his professional opinion. Univé responded that they did not know this information and would ask their medical advisor.
Then the College asked me to comment on this proposal. I objected against the demand that it would have to be a Dutch physician, explaining the complete disagreement between Dutch and German physicians on my physical state. I suggested that the reports by the now four German medical teams would qualify as 'independent' since they have no connection or relation to me, Univé, the Dutch medical system or anything else which might make them not impartial. Finally I mentioned my visit to a German reconstructive surgeon next month who will reconstruct my female side. In my view this already fully proved that I am in fact intersex.
A brief recess was called. Outside the hearing room the representatives and I talked about the case, finding that we pretty much agreed on everything I had said and finding no points of disagreement. On the contrary, we all agreed that it was a very weird case, especially with the unusual reports from the Dutch physicians who completely counter-indicated everything the German physicians said, despite the surgery done in Germany in 2011 decidedly refuting the Dutch reports. As the recess ended we went back into the room.
The College asked me whether I would be willing to take Univé up on this offer upon which I repeated my objections. Univé responded to this by saying that they would talk with their medical advisor again and would let both me and the College know in about two weeks time what information they would require from me. This I found to be acceptable, changing the case into the mediation situation whereby Univé and I will try to settle our differences. I argued to the College that if Univé covers the costs I have made it would be sufficient for me as this is what I initially set out to accomplish.
With this the hearing ended. It'll take about two weeks now before I know whether I can settle matters with Univé or that it has to go back to the College for judgement. All depends on what Univé thinks they require to prove to themselves that I am intersex. Apparently the Dutch judge's ruling in 2012 that I am in fact intersex and a stack of reports from four German medical teams doesn't suffice. If they keep up their claim of only accepting a Dutch physician's report, then I fear that it will have to go back to the College for a ruling. Dutch physicians at this point have proven themselves to be completely and utterly unreliable if not untrustworthy when it comes to handling intersex cases.
My way back to Germany after the hearing was uneventful. Walking back to the train station in Utrecht I observed everything around me, but didn't really detect any sense of longing or loathing. My feelings towards the Netherlands in general are more of an uncomfortable sadness. While I loathe the Dutch medical system with all my might due to what they have inflicted upon me, I do not dislike or hate the country in general. Having spent a few months living in Germany I also got impressed by just how small the Netherlands is, in a physical sense. It makes me question the relevance of spending much time on achieving justice in such a small country.
Crossing the border back into the Germany I mostly felt relief. The Netherlands hadn't felt welcoming or pleasant to me. While I recognize much of the sights and of course speak the language fluently, it would be amiss to claim that I in any way feel a connection with the country. It's just another country, albeit one which has done me considerable harm. I just don't know what to think, really. In fact, the next day I noticed that I felt much better about living in Germany and Karlsruhe now. Everything just feels more relaxed and pleasant here and I even get proper medical care. The Netherlands feels like strife to me, whereas Germany - though not a vacation - actually offers me possibilities. In a way I actually feel more human in Germany.
Here is to a quick resolution to the Univé case. Two years is a long time to fight over something so silly.
Maya
During the hearing which took well over an hour the facts as they had been gathered in the letter exchange of the past months (detailed on this blog as well) were put together. In essence it came down to that the Ministry hadn't done anything untoward as the legal article they had written was neutral and implicitly inclusive. The interpretation of this article by CVZ was addressed, however, as the interpretation they had provided of said article had been unclear and focused on transsexuals. The question to CVZ by the College thus was how they defined 'intersex' and whether this falls into their interpretation of this law article.
CVZ seemed to be quite ignorant of what intersex exactly was, quoting a statement by one of their medical advisors that only three types of intersex were defined before (hermaphroditism, semi-hermaphroditism, gonadal), something which is patently false. They then went on to reference DSD as the new and current term, which would be better because it is more inclusive. While I vehemently disagreed with this statement, I did not interject or otherwise object against these statements as it did not directly affect my case. CVZ ultimately did agree that there are a lot of conditions which would also fall within the reference frame when applying this law to individuals. The conclusion here was that with me being intersex, I should have received full coverage.
Finally Univé was left to make a statement on how it wished to proceed from this point. Here a clear tactical retreat was made, with the Univé representative stating that they might be willing to retroactively cover all of the costs I have made while undergoing the hair-removal therapy over the past years (over 6,000 Euro still uncovered), if they could verify via an independent Dutch physician that I am in fact intersex. The College asked Univé to clarify what kind of medical information they would further need to prove that I am intersex, quoting a section from a report from the surgeon from Hamburg in which he stated that I have an intersex body in his professional opinion. Univé responded that they did not know this information and would ask their medical advisor.
Then the College asked me to comment on this proposal. I objected against the demand that it would have to be a Dutch physician, explaining the complete disagreement between Dutch and German physicians on my physical state. I suggested that the reports by the now four German medical teams would qualify as 'independent' since they have no connection or relation to me, Univé, the Dutch medical system or anything else which might make them not impartial. Finally I mentioned my visit to a German reconstructive surgeon next month who will reconstruct my female side. In my view this already fully proved that I am in fact intersex.
A brief recess was called. Outside the hearing room the representatives and I talked about the case, finding that we pretty much agreed on everything I had said and finding no points of disagreement. On the contrary, we all agreed that it was a very weird case, especially with the unusual reports from the Dutch physicians who completely counter-indicated everything the German physicians said, despite the surgery done in Germany in 2011 decidedly refuting the Dutch reports. As the recess ended we went back into the room.
The College asked me whether I would be willing to take Univé up on this offer upon which I repeated my objections. Univé responded to this by saying that they would talk with their medical advisor again and would let both me and the College know in about two weeks time what information they would require from me. This I found to be acceptable, changing the case into the mediation situation whereby Univé and I will try to settle our differences. I argued to the College that if Univé covers the costs I have made it would be sufficient for me as this is what I initially set out to accomplish.
With this the hearing ended. It'll take about two weeks now before I know whether I can settle matters with Univé or that it has to go back to the College for judgement. All depends on what Univé thinks they require to prove to themselves that I am intersex. Apparently the Dutch judge's ruling in 2012 that I am in fact intersex and a stack of reports from four German medical teams doesn't suffice. If they keep up their claim of only accepting a Dutch physician's report, then I fear that it will have to go back to the College for a ruling. Dutch physicians at this point have proven themselves to be completely and utterly unreliable if not untrustworthy when it comes to handling intersex cases.
My way back to Germany after the hearing was uneventful. Walking back to the train station in Utrecht I observed everything around me, but didn't really detect any sense of longing or loathing. My feelings towards the Netherlands in general are more of an uncomfortable sadness. While I loathe the Dutch medical system with all my might due to what they have inflicted upon me, I do not dislike or hate the country in general. Having spent a few months living in Germany I also got impressed by just how small the Netherlands is, in a physical sense. It makes me question the relevance of spending much time on achieving justice in such a small country.
Crossing the border back into the Germany I mostly felt relief. The Netherlands hadn't felt welcoming or pleasant to me. While I recognize much of the sights and of course speak the language fluently, it would be amiss to claim that I in any way feel a connection with the country. It's just another country, albeit one which has done me considerable harm. I just don't know what to think, really. In fact, the next day I noticed that I felt much better about living in Germany and Karlsruhe now. Everything just feels more relaxed and pleasant here and I even get proper medical care. The Netherlands feels like strife to me, whereas Germany - though not a vacation - actually offers me possibilities. In a way I actually feel more human in Germany.
Here is to a quick resolution to the Univé case. Two years is a long time to fight over something so silly.
Maya
Saturday, 22 March 2014
This Could Be The End Game Or Just More Of The Same
On Monday I'll be boarding the train towards the Netherlands in order to attend the hearing at the Human Rights Institute (College voor de Rechten van de Mens) in Utrecht as I announced in my previous post. I have prepared it as well as possible, with a nice place to stay during the night of Monday on Tuesday and the Insitute's offices within walking distance. My train tickets to and from Utrecht have been booked and I have taken up the necessary free days from my work. I have read up on the details of the case already quite a lot due to the blog posts I have written on the responses from the Minister of Health, CVZ and the like. While everything seems to be heading into my favour with this case, there are still many ways that this could play out.
Most negatively, the Institute could determine that my claim that my former health insurer Univé discriminated against me for being intersex - when determining whether I could get full hair-removal therapy coverage - is invalid due to some or another reason or loophole. Since Univé's statements have included phrases such as that 'intersex in no way comparable is with transsexuality' (paraphrasing), while CVZ's statement counteract this, it seems that a more positive outcome is likely. It is hard to tell what this might be exactly.
Also quite negatively would be if my claim would be found to be valid, but no further measures would be taken. Not against Univé, not against CVZ, not against the Minister of Health. More positive outcomes would be Univé getting disciplined or fined, either through the government or CVZ. CVZ itself deserves disciplining as well for so easily dismissing me before in the 2011/2012 case at SKGZ as being intersex. SKGZ itself falls outside the Institute's case, but the Minister of Health should get reprimanded by the Insitute at least for so completely ignoring and forgetting about a group of people in the Netherlands much larger in count than that of transgenders while drawing up and revising law articles.
We'll know in a few months when the verdict of the Institute becomes known. At any rate I hope it doesn't turn out like my case at the Medical Disciplinary Commission in Amsterdam against the VUmc gender team last year which was fully dismissed. That was a bitter defeat. Yet even in this case at the Institute I do not expect I will get any apologies or findancial compensation for the emotional and financial costs of the past years due to Univé's refusal.
At least partially I seem to be correct about Germany so far. The medical professionals here seem to be far more human when it comes to more unusual cases. When I first visited my new family doctor (GP) a few weeks ago, she learned about my intersex condition only there during that first appointment. Yet it didn't phase her one bit, taking it in stride, only commenting on it being very unusual for her, but immediately drawing up plans to find me the proper help and having no issues with contacting this German surgeon I had found for me. During our email conversation this week she even commented on how interesting she found my case to be, if only as a very educational experience for herself. I cannot remember for the life me when any medical professional or similar in the Netherlands has ever said anything like that to me.
Anyway, to make a long story short: I have an appointment with this surgeon on the 24th of April at 11.00, so just over a month to go. The clinic the surgeon works at is in the Munich area, so that's going to mean another bit of logistics. Since it's a 3-hour trip by ICE from Karlsruhe to Munich alone, that will make doing it in a single day a tough task. I think I would also like to have someone accompany me on this initial consult appointment for both practical and mental support.
While this appointment is 'merely' a consult, the surgeon has already looked at my medical files and MRI scans before so we both will go into it with the goal of setting up a surgery. Here my dreams of regaining my body by having my female side restored through a reconstructive surgery will meet this surgeon's professional reality and the limits of his skills. Here I know that I can take small disappointments and compromises. If I can get access to all that my body has been born with, that is all that I need right now. All I fear here is a repeat of last year's disappointment when I thought I had found a surgeon in the Netherlands, yet he turned me resolutely down at the last moment without a proper excuse.
To think about this surgery actually happening and it being over with in maybe two months from now is almost inconceivable to me. For a decade now I have been stuck in this infinite loop where any hope to get medical help got squashed mercilessly. No recognition, just accusations of me being a lying, self-deceiving, impossible to handle transgender person who was just making life hard for itself by being so difficult and suffering from those self-delusions about somehow having an intersex condition. Only thanks to German medical evidence have I been able to partially break out of this loop, but only a successful surgery will fully break it forever.
When I think about after this potential surgery, that I could reach down there and feel the changes. This thought doesn't carry any kind of sexual energy with it, only sheer and utter relief, enough to send me wailing into tears of thankfulness, that it's all finally over, done with it and never will come back again. This would be the end game: the proper conclusion to a decade of suffering due to the rigid, patronizing and human rights violating attitude in the Netherlands towards medical minorities.
Or just another series of horrible disappointments, sending me back to square one.
Maya
Most negatively, the Institute could determine that my claim that my former health insurer Univé discriminated against me for being intersex - when determining whether I could get full hair-removal therapy coverage - is invalid due to some or another reason or loophole. Since Univé's statements have included phrases such as that 'intersex in no way comparable is with transsexuality' (paraphrasing), while CVZ's statement counteract this, it seems that a more positive outcome is likely. It is hard to tell what this might be exactly.
Also quite negatively would be if my claim would be found to be valid, but no further measures would be taken. Not against Univé, not against CVZ, not against the Minister of Health. More positive outcomes would be Univé getting disciplined or fined, either through the government or CVZ. CVZ itself deserves disciplining as well for so easily dismissing me before in the 2011/2012 case at SKGZ as being intersex. SKGZ itself falls outside the Institute's case, but the Minister of Health should get reprimanded by the Insitute at least for so completely ignoring and forgetting about a group of people in the Netherlands much larger in count than that of transgenders while drawing up and revising law articles.
We'll know in a few months when the verdict of the Institute becomes known. At any rate I hope it doesn't turn out like my case at the Medical Disciplinary Commission in Amsterdam against the VUmc gender team last year which was fully dismissed. That was a bitter defeat. Yet even in this case at the Institute I do not expect I will get any apologies or findancial compensation for the emotional and financial costs of the past years due to Univé's refusal.
At least partially I seem to be correct about Germany so far. The medical professionals here seem to be far more human when it comes to more unusual cases. When I first visited my new family doctor (GP) a few weeks ago, she learned about my intersex condition only there during that first appointment. Yet it didn't phase her one bit, taking it in stride, only commenting on it being very unusual for her, but immediately drawing up plans to find me the proper help and having no issues with contacting this German surgeon I had found for me. During our email conversation this week she even commented on how interesting she found my case to be, if only as a very educational experience for herself. I cannot remember for the life me when any medical professional or similar in the Netherlands has ever said anything like that to me.
Anyway, to make a long story short: I have an appointment with this surgeon on the 24th of April at 11.00, so just over a month to go. The clinic the surgeon works at is in the Munich area, so that's going to mean another bit of logistics. Since it's a 3-hour trip by ICE from Karlsruhe to Munich alone, that will make doing it in a single day a tough task. I think I would also like to have someone accompany me on this initial consult appointment for both practical and mental support.
While this appointment is 'merely' a consult, the surgeon has already looked at my medical files and MRI scans before so we both will go into it with the goal of setting up a surgery. Here my dreams of regaining my body by having my female side restored through a reconstructive surgery will meet this surgeon's professional reality and the limits of his skills. Here I know that I can take small disappointments and compromises. If I can get access to all that my body has been born with, that is all that I need right now. All I fear here is a repeat of last year's disappointment when I thought I had found a surgeon in the Netherlands, yet he turned me resolutely down at the last moment without a proper excuse.
To think about this surgery actually happening and it being over with in maybe two months from now is almost inconceivable to me. For a decade now I have been stuck in this infinite loop where any hope to get medical help got squashed mercilessly. No recognition, just accusations of me being a lying, self-deceiving, impossible to handle transgender person who was just making life hard for itself by being so difficult and suffering from those self-delusions about somehow having an intersex condition. Only thanks to German medical evidence have I been able to partially break out of this loop, but only a successful surgery will fully break it forever.
When I think about after this potential surgery, that I could reach down there and feel the changes. This thought doesn't carry any kind of sexual energy with it, only sheer and utter relief, enough to send me wailing into tears of thankfulness, that it's all finally over, done with it and never will come back again. This would be the end game: the proper conclusion to a decade of suffering due to the rigid, patronizing and human rights violating attitude in the Netherlands towards medical minorities.
Or just another series of horrible disappointments, sending me back to square one.
Maya
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