Graeme Stephen Tucker 47XXY

[roguekiwixxy]

Edited from my XXYTALK membership bio page, so if you're from XXYTALK it's essentially the same as that.


Hello all you wonderful XXY's and variants, lurkers and partakers of BLO, the absolute best forum for Intersex persons I have ever seen, it's even better than the XXYLIST I started back in 2000, or something like that.

I was diagnosed as member of this unique society back in 1976 when I was, (maths is a bad topic for me, so 1976 minus 1958 = wot? I dunno, let me work it out, whre's my pen, who stole it! )
That makes me 18, I always thought I was 16, wow you learn something new every day!

Maybe I was 17 as it was early in the year and I'd just left school to work in a factory, the Ford Motor Company, at Petone, near Wellington, New Zealands so-called 'capital' city.

Now come to think of it I was working for a year before that job interview at General Motors at Trentham, so I would have been between 17 and 18.

Anyway, the doctor I saw knew instantly he had another XXY, he was one of the few doctors who actually went looking for us as his wife was a Geneticist at Wellington Hospital, he knew what body shape to look for, without even taking your clothes off!

Skinny pale fellas, no musculature to speak of, shy quiet, when he met that sort of person he made a 'bee line' for the balls! Then he crushed the hell out of them! Well that's what it felt like to me.

He made me do all the silly tests doctors like to do, get naked, damn! My body wasn't exactly something worth admiring, it was kinda ugly, like a skinny as a rake body with budding tits, not exactly 'gorgeous', not like the gorgeous body I got now!

So he got me to stand naked in front of him with my arms spread out and I said to myself, "If you go stiff now I'll be really pissed off", but it didn't as it didn't work all that well by then. It did 3 years earlier, but not then, it just didn't work, kinda depressing that all on it's own!

Then he wrote a note and sealed it and I thought to myself, "This is like a bloody note home from school", I was very good at thinking words, but bloody useless at saying words!

He told me to take the note to my GP, and I said "I don't have a GP", so he said "go find one then". So I find a GP within a week, and this doctor rings me up to make an appointment, this is really weird. I was just expecting some note in the mail after I dropped my letter off at this surgery I went to. But by doing that I had set a lifetime of abuse in motion, and sometimes I wish I never did it.

Where is the sad smilie? What about the tear filled eyes smilie? The smile that represents the emotions I'm experiencing right now?

Memories, aint they just great!

L8r, maybe, when I can see.

I don't want to reply I want to continue, now that I've recovered.

Last year my father died August 20th. My sister and I had a strained relationship for many years but as a result of my dad's death we were forced to have contact again.

She came to me one night and asked if I remembered having all my blood spread over the kitchen walls when I was a kid. Of course I remembered it, who'd forget such a thing, I'm really good like that I always remember events that are traumatic, in fact those are the only events I can remember and there's a good reason for that.

I'm inattentive, I've been inattentive all my life, so for me to remember something there has to be some type of intense situation that causes me to remember it....how nice!

My mum was very good at beating the crap out of me, she was an expert. She'd name them but I won't here, she'd say, "there's you brother and your sister and they give me no problems at all, and then there's you!"

Apparently I had some challenging behaviours, apparently, according to a Psychiatric report written in 1976, I'd been a pain in the neck of my mother since I was 4 and a half, and yes I do have that report, just in case there are any doubters.

Also, when I was 4 I was diagnosed as having Epilepsy Petit Mal, which surprisingly has very similar characteristics to AD/HD Inattentive Type, which also surprisingly is the type of AD/HD I do have. Isn't that amamzing!!!!!

So, when I was a kid, you know all those years ago, if you really needed to express your frustrations, and really needed a living human being to do it on/to, I was available, in fact free of charge!

Oh yes I know all about people who change the rules to suit the circumstances. I know all about how I'm not allowed to fight back, so I just piss off instead, go find a cupboard or closet to hide in whilst all those who really care about me, and really want to find me, 'cause they're really concerned about me, and beat the crap out of me until their frustreation is alleviated. Yes I know all about those sorts of loving people!

But I'm not allowed to let that affect me now, I'm 50 aren't I, yes I am. 50 and I'm still alive, bloody amazing!

AS years go by memories do not fade, but I really wish they would.

So when I get to go see John W Delahunt my Endocrinologist, when I'm almost 18, and look almost 12, (what a neat joke), I don't want to go with my parents. My loving wonderful parents, who had no clue at all on how to parent a child with major learning difficulties.

I looked normal, why couldn't I be normal? My mum was very good at asking me that question. Yes, I even had to clean up my own blood that she made flow, possibly that's reason why?

I can't be normal because I'm not normal, I'm XXY. But even if anyone knew that, it wouldn't have made any difference to them, I supposedly had Petit Mal Epilepsy, and that didn't make any difference. I still got treated like a punching bag. And punching bags are not allowed to fight back.

So eventually I managed to see my Endocrinologist on my own and I never said a word about them as it never entered my head to say a word. It wasn't like I was a genius communicator, god it wasn't like I could talk!

What's there to talk about anyway?