XXY Autobiography

Klinefelter's syndrome is the symptoms of a disease in the testicles of males with some degree of additional X genetic material.

If a man has some degree of that additional X genetic material in his blood, he can have none in his testicles. Such a man will not have those symptoms of disease as he won't have the disease to begin with! Generally speaking though, XXY men are said to have Klinefelter's syndrome, regardless of the symptoms of disease they may or may not have.

XXY pre pubertal boys are also said to have Klinefelter's syndrome, and they clearly have NO symptoms of Seminiferous Tubule Dysgenesis, the disease Klinefelter's syndrome is the symptoms of, in teenagers and adults with some degree of that additional X genetic material.

Basically an entire additional X is not required, merely a repeat sequence on their one and only X, a regular XY man has, will do. If you really don't believe me, go and ask your doctor!

People seem to like to have a syndrome to blame for everything, whereas I blame piss poor parenting, piss poor medical care, and piss poor knowledge of doctors, patients and parents alike, they are all to blame collectively for their own ignorance, as I am too.

So this is MY version of MY story, and if you don't like it, you can always write your own.

The Need For Early Identification & Treatment of XXY & Klinefelter's syndrome:

The Fallacy of XXY/KS Being Intersex:

I'm not at all certain the chronology of events, (and I think my spelling is shocking), I mention in this article are at all accurate. I'm not certain how old I am in any particular photograph, but what I say of what I can remember is true. It's a real drag not being able to remember happy events, they just don't seem to exist, which is just another bummer in my so-called 'life'. My sister also has a memory of her seeing my blood splattered all over the kitchen walls in our house at 149 Wainuiomata Rd, Wainuiomata, (Tel 6839), what a massive long term memory! Her memory of that event is 100% accurate, that is exactly what occurred. But I'm not going to go into detail on that, it's far too depressing!

Another thing I find amusing are the comments in my school reports about how my behaviour is improving, or I'm trying hard to improve my behaviour, whereas I have no recollection of having any 'behaviour' that I didn't see everyone else do from time to time, even the Teachers! I've seen plenty of Teachers storm out of the room I was in and slam doors behind them. I don't know if I was the cause, but I doubt it, I was only a kid, how can a kid get an adult to do that? The only thing different is that the door didn't explode when they did it. I guess there's an art in slamming a door correctly!

I have led a unique life, I suppose everybody has, but this life is so unique, and it's only been this way because a great many highly trained Professionals got it seriously wrong, regularly. All my life, this life, I've had to pay for it. The idea of this CD is to get those highly trained Professionals to take more care about what they're doing, be more diligint, be more human and apply for real, as if they really do mean it, their Oath which starts off with the words in English, translated from Latin, "First, Do No Harm"

"On this site you'll find copies of my Primary School Reports. All those reports only came into my possession after July 2 2006. It's been quite an interesting time of discovery, finding out just how hard school really was and how hard life really is. Not that most reading this CD will notice. All those things have always come easy to you, and not even by your choice, but by your genetics. A lot of people think they worked hard to achieve what they learned, but that is rubbish, they achieved only what their genetics allowed them to learn. Their personal choices have only limited what they could have learned, if they haven't learned all that much."

Tongue-Tied & Twisted, Just an Earth-Bound Misfit, I.


Below a video specifically to the mother of an obese (apparently) pre pubertal XXY boy, who she claims was fat because of Klinefelter's syndrome, but that is simply not possible, he got fat because she fed him too much. End of story.

When I was about 17 I became aware that things in my life were going really badly wrong. In reality things started going really badly wrong before the moment of conception, when the spermatozoa or ova were being formed. Looking back through old School reports, family members accounts and my medical file, at no time in my life has anything gone really well for a sustained period. Some people say, even I say, "shit happens", but for me I think I'll say "good things happen", since that's the real relationship between the 'good things' and the 'shit' with me.

Somehow or other I managed to get a heap of reports about XXY's, only I can't remember how I did it, typical! Yes I can, I got all sorts of medical reports and wrote to the Authors directly or to the Publishers and got heaps of responses. Out there, in the big wide world, other people do give a shit! Anyway, one of them I've just finished re-reading and it's all about how young adult XXY's are coping with life. Of Course those particular XXY's were discovered by testing for XXY at birth 40,000 newborns in Denver, USA, and their statistics must be misleading as they were lucky enough to be born in a country that actually cares about it's citizens.

Unlike New Zealand which just couldn't give a shit!

These are some of the few photos taken of me at about 10 - 12 with my mouth open, apart from the last photo on the right, it's a doctored copy of the first photo on the left. And below is the photo it came from. Those teeth are massive and the gap eventually became great enough to have another fully grown tooth fit. In fact, I could easily place the end of my little finger between them, so my balls, (otherwise known as Testes, Testicles or Testi), were as big as the gap between my teeth, that's weird. There's your first clue as to why my life is just so damn UNIQUE.

Evidence of what I just said in the photo above, just in case you think I'm a liar. Learn all about testes and what they really do, do.

And those teeth frequently went straight through my top lip. So how do you suppose my massive teeth went through my top lip, regularly?

I can answer that, one time I fell off my bike on the way home from school, Wainuiomata. One time I fell over, face first into a concrete path, Porirua East. And all the rest of the times I was punched, by Teachers and quite a few others. In fact the only person who never punched me anywhere, at any time, that I can recall was Murray Ditchfield, partners in the crime of survival, (how to survive Primary School, not easy but it can be done).

I used to get really bad headaches frequently, back then, really really bad. They were terrible. People call them migraines. All I could get for relief was Asprin, useless. And I always used to vomit when I got one, so I deduced from there that it was the Asprin that caused the vomiting, I suppose that's reasonable for a child's mind. But not taking Asprin didn't help.

I'd bite my nails, all the way down to flesh, until they bled. That's what I was told was the cause of my headaches, notice how everything works out to be my fault? Funny that eh! It's still the same today. No-one else wants to take any responsibility for anything. Find a nice agreeable sucker to blame, I'm perfect for that.

There had to be some reason why I always bit my nails, it wasn't like I enjoyed pain, or maybe I did? Maybe that's what made me feel alive? That sounds far too complicated for a child to think of, and that child in particular.

I don't think I lived, I think I existed from one moment to the next without any relationship between the moments, the effect of untreated AD/HD.

Oh, and before I had my teeth pulled out, years before, I taught myself not to bite my nails. It took a big effort, but I did it.

On Friday's, when I was a kid, if we didn't go to a cafe in Wellington, we always had Fish'n'Chips for dinner at home, well the place my parents call 'home'. One Friday I had a really bad headache, I really wanted my dinner but my fingers were so badly bitten the salt in my food caused extreme pain, but I pushed on. I sat at the far end of the hallway, as far from the lounge as I could get, the noise from the TV made my head ache even more, as did the light, so it was turned off. Then, when I'd finished my dinner I walked straight into the toliet and threw the lot up. Childhood memories, aint they just great!

When you're treated like shit all the time, shit is all you can remember. That's a clue on how to change the future. Don't treat children like shit, they don't like it, I can guarantee that.

Personally I can't understand why my parents didn't have those really bad headaches checked out. If you had a child who was literally physically ill because of a headache, that was another regular event, wouldn't you have wanted to know what the cause was? That type of 'condition' can be a sign of Brain Tumour or Stroke, and children can get both of those. But I expect they were associated with severe Depression, which is a serious Psychiatric illness, and children can get that too.

My Parents thought I had Petit Mal Epilepsy. They thought that as that's what some Doctor told them at some time, when I was in England the first time, between age 2 & 5. I even had to take medication to alleviate the symptoms of it, from age 5 or before. Curiously my Mum claimed I was a problem for her since age 4 and a half. That medication also had a side effect of giving me a seriously moody manner and a vicious temper. You can read my early school reports and see the criticism I had to endure, as a result of being treated for a condition that I didn't have. What a JOKE. I've never had Epilepsy, of any kind in my entire life. But I have had AD/HD, all my life.

My parents used to offer me confectionary to see if I was 'putting it on', pretending I was having what I call a 'vacant time', otherwise known as a 'seizure', for those with Petit Mal Epilepsy. No effort was spared to prove I was making it up. It's a pity the effort didn't go into finding out what the real problem was. Life might have been different. Another clue for the future.

There were 5 instances before I was 17, when I WAS diagnosed, where I could have been but wasn't! Most of the time it was my Mother who prevented the diagnosis from occurring, simply by being there. I can only speculate as to why she had to be at every medical appointment I had until I left school. I just can't figure it out. I also can't figure out why no Doctor told her to get out.

Before I was diagnosed my brother got Appendicitis, and when he was to be examined a Nurse asked us all to leave the room, because, well, the Appendix is situated quite low down towards 'there'. So, why was it different for me?

Boléro is really good eh! Did you know Ravel was French? Yeah he died in 1937, when was he born, damn, forgot, it'll come back to me. I used to know all about almost all the Classical composers, I used to really enjoy learning about music, all sorts of music.

I was talking to a couple of younger people a while ago, about how I found some old school reports of mine, and in ALL my time at Primary School I got just one A mark, and that was for Music. But I never even knew I got that grade, as my parents never told me.

That was at Intermediate, which is still a Primary School, and all reports were sealed and for the parents eyes only. I knew plenty of kids who opened their reports before they got home, but I knew what would happen if I opened mine before I handed it over, so I never did, except once, that's how I know what would happen.

With my history at school, that the reader can get an insight into, I'd think an A Mark in any topic would be worth celebrating, making a really big deal of. That's what I'd do. And I can't go back, I know that. But I can be sad about it, and I am. Why is it perfectly OK for proud parents to tell me of how their, now adult children, did so well in School, became Dux of the School etc? Yet I'm not allowed to point out I was at one time good at 1 topic, at least once, that I can prove! No-one else will prove it for me, but I can do it for myself. Can't I. I'd be waiting around forever before I got any praise from you normal lot.

I've seen in many High Schools, the Roll of Honour, nice gold lettering on imitation Teak or Oak polished wood boards. All the Students who did so well, because they worked for it, or were they just lucky enough to be born with the right genetics, to the right parents, at the right time? Where is their input to those circumstances? But I belong to that other Roll, the Roll with just as much Honour but is hidden from view. Where I can be forgotten about and you normal lot can pretend I didn't and don't exist. Well I did and do, get used to it.

Around about the 12 mark

I used to hear all the time from them (my parents) how I couldn't get a job after school, like a paper round or a milk run until my marks at School improved. If getting an A mark isn't an improvement, what is? It was only in music, not important enough I guess for them. Maybe they should have discovered Classical Music, maybe they should have learned how to parent?

In my time of finding XXY's I discovered some parents of XXY boys who latched onto numerous different subjects or topics to teach their XXY boys with. One boy had an insane interest in Tractors, so everything he was taught was based around Tractors. That's called 'meeting the needs of the learner'. A real smart thing to do, by a couple of really clever parents. I don't think either of them were Dux of any school they went to. I know neither had high powered, well paying jobs for the Government. Neither of them were posted overseas for their work, but they sure do know how to look after their children, all of them.

One time I asked to learn to play the Violin, that was before Intermediate, I heard someone play one in a park somewhere, I think, somewhere like that, and it sounded fantastic. But my mum said she hated the sound of a Violin, so I wasn't going to learn how to do that. I did enough things my Mum hated already. Maybe that's not true, maybe she just hated me and anything I did was wrong because it was me who was doing it. Who cares? In any event I probably wouldn't have been able to make my fingers do the necessary work, they never did work all that well.

And another time I asked to learn Ballet, my sister did it, and to me it looked really exciting. The perfect combination of Gymnastics & Music. I wish I'd not asked. I made no association between Ballet and homosexuality, but everybody else did! Riddiculed by everybody! You normal people are really strange.

Constant criticism is a killer, you try being happy when that's all you ever get, from all the people you rely on for everything.

So the research Dr Nielsen did seems to be true, even for people who weren't diagnosed until their 40's or 50's. If these people, when they were children, are raised in stable supportive environments, they often do quite well. And, you know what, living in other countries when you're XXY, and even in NZ, is nothing to rave on about, in fact living is nothing to rave on about, not when you're treated like shit all day and every day. What country you live in makes no difference when that happens.

I say that as there are many members of both my Mothers family and my Fathers family who think I was a spoiled brat and terribly ungrateful. They think my parents did a great job, whereas I know they did a useless job. And if what I describe on this CD is like anything they did to their children, then they were just as useless as my parents.

Anorexia Nervosa: Primary & Intermediate School Reports: Need For Early Identification & Treatment: The Denver Study: Giving myself my Testosterone Injection:
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