Living with HIV/AIDS has been like a double edged sword to me. It
has been both a curse and a blessing.
When I first was diagnosed, I was made to feel like a piranha by my
abusive ex-boyfriend. Once he called the police on me and had me removed
from his residence, yelling at me not to use his bathroom and to take
my AIDS ass out in the front of a car and get hit and die. It took
my illness for me to realize he couldn't love me. It broke up the
relationship since he never sexually touched me again. Leaving him
behind was one of the best things that could have ever happened to
me.
But I was propelled into great loneliness and despair at being abandoned
by this seven-year relationship. I soon became involved with a hopeless
drunk crack addict that loved me unconditionally. Not only did he
sleep with me, he wanted to have unprotected sex as a token of his
love. I never allowed that. I didn't want to be responsible for him
dying a young death as I was going to.
After being subjected to the distaste of being with an alcoholic,
like urinating in my bed and passing out in front of my door when
I wouldn't let him in, I decided to leave him behind. Though there
was no physical abuse I was mistreating and degrading myself by settling
for less just because I had the VIRUS, so I walked away, and began
another grieving period of being awfully alone.
Through out these years I had being practicing my addiction to cocaine
weed and booze. When I was alone this last time I spent three long
years by myself. I went to bars and got drunk, immersed myself with
marijuana. I didn't want to feel anything. I remember how I caught
the virus through prostitution and the debauchery. Or maybe it was
through IV cocaine use. Either way through my addiction my mother
would always tell me, one day you are going to wake up with AIDS.
Well, as usual mama knows best.
After a one night stand of protected sex, and there may have been
more than one, I went to a heterosexual HIV/AIDS support group for
singles. After talking about my deep frustration at not being able
to disclosed my status to prospective sexual partners me and a man
got to talking. I told them about people threaten to sue a person
with the virus for sleeping with them without disclosing. I felt so
isolated and alone. I was hiding a deep dark secret. This kind intelligent
and sober man spoke to me diligently on the topic and listened closely.
It was with this man that I formed a bond and with whom I have been
living with for the last six years.
Recently we have begun writing a book and a photo essay on prostitutes
and drug addicts. We scourer the streets daily looking for them as
they walk the streets. We offer them money for them to complete a
survey we created and a list of questions. We ask them about their
drug use and their histories and their HIV/AIDS status. Everyone but
one tested negative. This greatly surprises me and I feel a tinge
of jealousy and a fair amount of life being unfair. Why me? Why not
them? But still, we pass out condoms we get from AIDS organizations
in hopes that they will used them. They always take them. We hope
to persuade them to enter treatment so that they don't end up like
us with the virus.
I used to think that being on disability because I got meningitis
and cervical dsyplasia from having this virus was a bowl of cherries.
My life made easier because I didn't suffer a nine to five job. But,
I realize now you will have to pay a high price for this luxury. I
will die young. My t-cells are already after ten years, two hundred.
And ten years went by fast. It seems like an eternity, but it's only
a snap in time. I will never have a child most likely, never be a
grandmother or pass on my name. I will never be free of the stigma
my partner and I have learned to hide it from other and will continue
to do so.
But I would have never met the man in my life with out contracting
this deadly disease. And for this great gift I will be eternally grateful.
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