Wednesday 14 January 2015

Drudging through the certainty of uncertainty

Yesterday I had the first job interview as I keep searching for a new job after my current contract ends next month. Supposedly there are a lot of tech companies in Karlsruhe, but so far the results are pretty thin. There's still every possibility that I'll be opting for a job which will take me somewhere else in Germany or even to another (European) country. Yesterday's job interview was all right, I guess. Sticking point was mostly that I never had a formal education and thus no papers to hand over as 'proof' of my abilities. This is likely to be the point which will decide whether I'll be offered the job or not. Times like these it's just plain annoying that formal education never worked for me due to my giftedness and that because I'm an autodidact I learned everything on my own instead.

There was also the issue that the headhunter who had brought me into contact with this company had referred to me in his emails to the company using male pronouns, for some reason. Whether or not this was intentional, it led to an uncomfortable scene during the interview and together with the uncertainty about the certifications, it left me in a rather depressed mood by the time I got back home. Being intersex sucks. Being gifted sucks. Still having to find some job which I can at least somewhat like is beyond cruel. It reinforces for me that I should get to the point where I can just work for myself again.

At any rate I still slept okay last night, though the dream I had was quite interesting. Last time I had a processing dream regarding the period I shared this apartment with this one girl was early last year when I stayed at this student's place. That dream was a complete nightmare, which awoke me with pounding heart and unable to shake off the feeling of dread and of being hunted. This dream was a lot milder in comparison. In it I had a girlfriend. Just a nice, pleasant, awesome girl I felt totally at ease with. Yet throughout the dream I kept having flashbacks because of certain events and actions which led me to having to shake them off and realize that my girlfriend wasn't like that other person. It made me realize just how deep the feeling of panic and being hunted goes.

Not too shocking when I recall just how horrible that time was, I guess. Like taking a shower and glimpsing over my shoulder every few moments in sheer terror because I expected her to stand there again, staring at me. Or the friendly facade when in public and the constant bullying and abuse when alone together. I'd honestly rather kill myself than go through that ever again. I have gone through a lot of horrible things the past years, but that one is definitely in the top 5 of things I'll elect to chew on a cyanide capsule for in order to prevent experiencing it again. Having a dream like I had last night is a positive sign in that regard, I hope. Maybe I'll some day be able to accept that I can start my first relationship and even sharing the same house with that person without it feeling like I just invited a vampire to enter my abode.

I also woke up last night at one point because of the pain in my lower abdomen and lower back. It's usually around this time of the month that both pains get pretty severe. While I started taking the pill again a few weeks ago thanks to my GP, the symptoms didn't vanish, although they got considerably more mild compared to the last months when I didn't take the pill. Especially the severe cramps on my right side and in my lower right abdomen are far less pronounced. The lower back pain is there, but not crippling. I also hadn't had my right leg go all numb yet this month unlike with previous months.

I'm pretty sure I'll still have to go to my gynaecologist to inquire whether he may know of some other examination to figure out what this pain is about. Another major symptom which is also slightly less severe, but still most definitely there and agonizing at times is located in the area where the entrance of the vagina would be/is. Around the time of my 'menstruation', to refer to it like that, said area becomes very painful and sore. Sitting becomes painful or uncomfortable and going to the toilet ranges from discomfort to nearly passing out from waves of agony. Back in the Netherlands I went to the ER for this issue at one point, but the doctor examining me just prodded me, had me screaming out in pain and told me to just go eat some ibuprofen.

If it's in fact the vagina entrance, as found before during the exploratory surgery in 2011, which is being irritated or inflamed because of some kind of flow that's part of the menstruation cycle, then it's quite risky. Beyond the usual risk of scarring, there's the risk of sepsis and other possibly lethal complications, similar to the risks associated with the use of tampons when they are left in too long. This is why I have been pushing to have that vaginal reconstructive surgery for years now, to get answers on what's going on and solve any lingering issues in that area. Unfortunately it's unlikely that I'll get medical help in the next ten years either.

Finally there's the whole 'living in Germany' part. I have said before that I do not dislike this country or the people in it, and I still hold hope for the medical system here. If there's an issue which makes my life harder than it should be it's probably still the language. While my German language skills have improved to the point where I can talk with most people here in German for most conversations, I'm painfully aware of my limited German vocabulary and limited control of German grammar. At least this is something which is relatively easy to solve and I find German to become a more pleasant language the easier it gets to use it for me. That said, I still loathe legal German, but I doubt I'm alone in that one.

Even after I managed to stop blaming myself for everything that's gone wrong in my life, there is still enough to get upset about and it doesn't change my traumas, even if it dulls some of the pain a little. I still suffer from suicidal depressions and I still don't believe that I'll ever feel happy again in my life. I have nightmares of slaving for some faceless company with little time left for myself until I'm old and worn out, then to die alone and unhappy with none of my dreams fulfilled. I am feeling ever more distant from my body as I have to dissociate from it to shut out the pain of having been born with a body that's so controversial. I still loathe living in an apartment where there are so many sounds which trigger my traumas, break down my emotional defences or just outright disgust me between the constant and irregular ticking of the heating system, hearing every step and some discussions not to mention every drop spilled in the toilet from upstairs.

No, happy I am not. The best I can aim for at this point is 'stable'. Stable enough to still fight on for a better existence. A better life which doesn't fill me with the sensation of utter futility and despair. Even thinking about everything that I still have to do to make my life even a little better, even if it's just moving to a better place, I feel more tempted to just give up on the spot than to undertake it. Yet I have to. Even if it hurts. Even if it makes me feel suicidal. Even if it makes me feel like life is pure torture. Because dying is so incredibly hard.

That's my motivation to keep trying to live on, even through all this confusion, hatred, pain, sadness and bitterness. Dying is just too hard right now.


Maya

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