CALENDAR DATES: OBSESSIVE OR ALTRUISTIC?

One year ago this upcoming weekend I began my HIV medications.  I remember that night perfectly- from strategically planning the hour at which I would consume the pills to who I invited over my apartment to join in on an occasion I insisted be festive.  After my friends forced the pills down my throat and then headed back to their residences the idea of remaining in a celebratory state had subsided. I had a bit of quiet time to fill my “Monday through Sunday” pill box.  While doing so I listened to sappy music and cried every possible tear I could.  It wasn’t until this part of the evening did this physical illustration remind me that now that I started the medications I can never stop and that this pill box will always be replenished.  To this day this incident was the third and final time I allowed myself to be emotional at the fact that I’m HIV positive.

One common trait I’ve learned that majority of positive individuals have are remembering dates: the month, day and year of their diagnosis, when they began medication, when and if they were hospitalized, etc.  I see people on both ends of the spectrum criticize these people for being what they in their own minds would consider anal about keeping track of dates.  Such individuals tell me that as time goes on I will forget my exact dates.  That may be all right for them, but as far as I’m concerned my life began on January 21, 2010, a date that will live in my memory until God has decided that my time is up. 

My argument for remembering dates is that it recognizes taking charge of your life.  Before I had HIV, I could care less about myself.  Whether it would be reviewing my resume for dates when I held jobs, or dates from my last dental appointment, or even the date of the last time I had sex.  Sure, I may have a rough idea, but there is uncertainty.  Since my life has changed I’ve become certain of almost everything regarding my health side of things.  (Another reason why I can’t stand when people tell me my life hasn’t changed with or without HIV.  Change doesn’t necessarily equate to BAD.)

Here’s an example of why remembering dates is not only crucial to one’s internal self, but for others engaged in your life as well.  Look out- I’m going to be honest about how it works for many in the gay world.  And in my opinion, unless our world finally accepts the homosexual community as equals more and more individuals will seek affection the way I’m about to portray.  Several years ago, I met a gentleman on one of the many gay dating (sex) sites.  After a few dialogue sessions exchanging what we were “into” (meaning sexual position, safe or raw, relationship oriented or no strings attached, discreet or open, to name a few) we’ve concluded that we were a match.  One night in his hotel room (he’s from a major city two hours away from mine) we made love for a couple hours before calling it a night.  This escapade continued on and off a few times a year, when he was in town, and we were officially “buddies”- no need to add the F word before buddies. 

What began in my early twenties as an acquaintance relationship sooner turned intimate (he invited me to dinner after all these years of just having sex.) we learned that we can glamorize things and be considered friends.  Recently, he got in touch with me that he will be in town and I was the first person he wanted to see upon his arrival.  As flattered as I was, I knew I had to be honest with an old buddy.  After all, he has and deserves the right to know the truth.  Sure it will hurt if he rejects me, but that’s life.  It doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of other guys out there I’ve yet to encounter that will care for me as me.  I told him I was positive.  I told him the date I was diagnosed, the date I started medications, my current numbers and my healthy stature, etc.  I pleaded all I could to assure him that I would never do anything to hurt him, yet I understand if our debauchery had to end.  His response, “the fact that you were so honest with me, know all your shit, like dates and all, makes me not only comfortable with you, but admire you for being educated and taking charge of your life.”  Here I was worried he’d reject me for being positive.  Now we speak on a daily basis and I teach him a thing or two about the illness that he can use at will to protect him from harm.  I laughed when he apologized for asking so many questions regarding STDs.  My response was, “Don’t ever apologize for taking charge of your health or let anyone put you down for doing so!”

My point in a nutshell, keeping track of dates and knowing your own facts, whether you are negative or positive, illustrates taking charge of one’s own life.  So, to all the critics out there who tease us for knowing ours I say, “Get over it.”  By the way, I have plans to meet up with that gentleman friend of mine very soon and I have a feeling it will be the most passionate meeting we’ve ever had.  I guess honesty really is the best policy.          

MY DISCLOSURE TO THE WORLD

Last week I posted a video on YOUTUBE that spoke about my brief history living with HIV. In addition, I offered my words of advice for newly diagnosed individuals and their loved ones. Overall feedback from viewers was all sorts of encouraging words thus allotting me the confidence to continue videotaping my fight against this illness.


Let me be clear before I continue with my blog entry. Disclosure is a constant debate. I considered all of the avenues of disclosing my status up until the minutes before recording. My opinion rests that it is solely up to the individual as to whether or not to disclose his or her status to loved ones and friends. This does not include sexual partners of which I feel deserve a right to know. The truth is there is no right or wrong answer as to when one should disclose. Once you tell one person the possibility arises that more people will know without your control. It’s understandable for people to want to wait until they are mentally ready to tell their secret.


I wasn’t open about my status in the beginning as I am now. At first only a handful of people knew about me. I halted my sexual encounters for a while to focus on myself. I thought I was safe that way. Consequently, this action left me in isolation. Days turned into weeks turned into months and I had a less than satisfactory support group. Something had to change before HIV and stress would take over sending me six feet under.


So- I came out of the closet for the second time in my life. No longer will I be hiding in the shadows just because society teaches me to fear HIV/AIDS. I plan to do my part to end the stigmas against this illness. It had shown that my courage has proven beneficial- all of my friends and family stand behind me and wish me all the luck and happiness life has to offer. My support group is larger than ever with nothing stopping me in the interim.


Don’t get me wrong- disclosing will have its up’s and down’s and there will be scary ventures ahead of me. But, if I don’t do my part to help make a difference then who will? I speak for my brothers and sisters who no longer have a voice. I speak for those who are not yet ready to disclose to others and most of all I speak for me, the most important person in my world.


For all those out there who are afraid to speak, refuse to speak, or want to speak louder- I offer you my hand in support and comfort, and will always be here to help you.

MY FAMILY’S REACTION TO THE NEWS

As promised, I’m going to talk this week about how my parents took the news about my HIV status. It’s a short and to-the-point blog. Let me tell you that I thought I planned every possible scenario out in my head prior and was certain that I had a pretty good idea as to the outcome of my parent’s reaction to the news. If you read last week’s blog I give a fairly good description of what my predictions were. However, NOTHING prepared me for the actual results.

I sat my mother and father in my old bedroom and just flat out said, “You two need to know that as of January I found out that I am HIV positive.” Then, there was a long a pause, and god strike me dead if I ever forget what my mother said after that- take note of the paraphrasing. “To be honest I’m not surprised considering your life of promiscuity.” Talk about being thrown off and being far from the truth. Was I back in church? Where did that come from? She later apologized for that remark, but moms sure know how to throw your train of thought off. Once that blow was settled my parents heard me out and pretty much asked all the right questions. I told them it wasn’t important “how” I got it, but that it’s not going away and we are all in this together. There was no screaming, no unbearable silence, no tears. They showed concern and just wanted to make sure I was being taken care of medically and mentally. Long story short, they were completely supportive of me, just like a family should be.

Even though I told her it wasn’t necessary, my mother plans to buy me a medic alert necklace that says the medications I am on should I ever end up unconscious- but that’s a mother for you. I assured her that there is nothing to worry about with me as my health is excellent and I haven’t missed a dose or doctors visit to date. I told her my recent involvement with wanting to help with ADAP- for another blog. That brought on the tears and my mother saying how proud she’s always been of me and that never had to worry about me.

If you recall, my father’s reaction was what I worried about more due to his past relationship with his family and HIV and coming to terms with my gay life. He was quiet, as usual, but after a few minutes he joined in on the question asking and showed his support for me. We shared beers later the next day and just talked about his diabetes and my HIV. What I’ve learned about disclosure is that each and every time I plan to tell someone I have HIV, whether or not I agree with it I have to cater it to the way they will handle the news. Sounds obvious? Not really- it only took me a few tries to get it right.

In closing, now that I told my parents my status there is no one I need to hide this from anymore. No one.