Dare I Say, Thank You HIV

A life reborn, finding myself one day at a time.

7 years. 7 years ago today I was diagnosed with HIV. 2555 days with HIV. 61,320 hours with HIV.

I went to the clinic to get my results. I was sure I had HIV. My friend told me I was worrying for nothing. I didn't tell her, I had unprotected sex with an HIV positive guy. A month after having sex with him, I had the worst "flu" of my life. I could barely eat, I had no energy. I lost 20 pounds in under a month. I knew what the results were going to say.

The nurse sat me down and told me "your test came back positive." She gave the speech, "it's not a death sentence, the medications are better now days, blah blah blah." I asked her how many people she has had to tell. She said I was her first. Awe, I popped her HIV diagnosis giving cherry. I told her she was doing a good job. WTF!? Typical me, putting others needs ahead of mine. Easy to do, when you have no self worth. I saw the time and said "crap, my parking time has run out. I need to go put more money in. I'll be back, I swear."

I put more money in and went back to the clinic room. She was surprised I returned. She told me I had an appointment with the infectious disease doctor in a couple of weeks, gave me some pamphlets and asked me if I needed anything. Need anything? Seriously? In 15 minutes you told me I have HIV, you gave me a bunch of pamphlets and now I need to go to work. I don't know what the fuck I need.

I got into my car, I tried to cry, I couldn't. I just started laughing. I drove to work, as I was walking from the parkade to work I texted my friend "I have HIV." She messaged me back saying that's not funny. I told her I wasn't joking. She called me, told me everything was going to be okay and that she was here for me. Maybe a text wasn't the best way to tell someone, oops.

I took a deep breath and walked into work. I knew it was going to be a difficult night. I was working till 2 am, I just received life altering news and my job was to take escalated calls from angry dick heads who didn't get their dipping sauce for their pizza. Fuck!

It didn't take long before I lost my shit on a customer. I had a woman, who had been moving all day, she said she placed an order an hour ago and there was no record of her order. I apologized, offered a discount and to rush the order, that wasn't good enough. She started crying, complaining how she moved all day with two kids and then started yelling at me. I yelled back at her and I heard her phone drop. All of a sudden a man's voice came on the line and in a concerned tone said "um hello?" I flipped out and said "I can't deal with this shit! Good bye!" and hung up on him.

I can laugh about it now. I assume he was her husband. This poor guy is probably thinking, what the hell is going on? My wife is losing it, the pizza guy is losing it, I just want some food.

7 years later. 2555 days later. 61,320 hours later. I've changed jobs a few times, I've gone a few dates, still no relationships. I've gone to group therapy and individual therapy. I've had my struggles and I've had my successes. I've grown as a person. I've set boundaries with my father. I've become closer with my mother. My friends are fucking amazing! I have small group of friends, we've been friends since high school. 17 years of friendship and counting!

Lately I've been depressed. Working has been a big source of that. Every time I feel that I am moving forward with my health, I feel like work takes me 5 steps back. Butt! A big hairy bubble butt! Sorry wrong kind of butt. But! I have to give myself credit. Despite being depressed, I am still trying. I am still trying to eat healthy, I am still trying to make myself see my friends. This past weekend I went to a conference out of town for people living with HIV and AIDS. That was huge for me! I put myself out of my comfort zone and faced my anxiety head on.

Even though I've been depressed it doesn't have as strong of a grip on me and I can thank HIV for that. Contracting HIV was hitting rock bottom for me. Contracting HIV made me realize I needed help. It  motivated me to join that group therapy program. It got me diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. It motivated me to start individual therapy with a Psychologist. It motivated me to try new things. Did I mention I started taking singing lessons last year? Something I've always wanted to do, but was to scared to do.

HIV made me realized life is too short and it has allowed me to grow and become a better person. As I write this, tears are running down my face. Some are sad tears, because to be honest obviously I would prefer to not have HIV. BUT another big hairy bubble butt! A lot of them are happy tears, proud tears that I have turned a negative into a positive (I swear no pun was intended!).

Because of HIV, I am becoming a better version of myself.

The Shackles of Anxiety

I'm driving in my car, thinking to myself "I can do this, I can do this." I round the corner and my heart   beats faster every block closer I get to my destination. I attempt to turn into the parking lot, I jerk the steering wheel in the opposite direction and think "park across the street so you can see who is going in."

I'm so nervous. My anxiety is through the roof, my heart beating fast, mouth dry, palms sweaty. Mom's spaghetti? Wait that last part is from a song. Concentrate. It feels like there is a lump in my throat. I think my co-woker said that is called globus. Sounds like a travel agency.

I see a few people go in. I can do this, I can do this. I stare at my runners on the seat, just pick them up, open your door and go into the school. Nope not yet, I got here early for a reason, so I can work up the courage to go in. A couple more minutes pass, it's an all or nothing moment. I grab my shoes, open my car door and cross the street.

I open the school doors and walk down the hallway. My heart beating fast, nauseated, and the globus in my throat. That reminds me, I should plan my next vacation. I round the corner and I see a few guys sitting outside the gym. I try to make eye contact and smile, they look away. I nervously grab my phone and start looking on Facebook.

In my last therapy session we talked about how I need to be physically active. It will help with my joint pain and my mood. I've been wanting to go to recreational volleyball which is run through a local gay and lesbian sports league. Meeting new people isn't easy for me, you know with the anxiety and all. Hard to make conversation when you have a travel agency, I mean globus in your throat.

A few more guys show up and they all know each other. Everyone is laughing and hugging and catching up since the last time. Fuck. This is what I was afraid of. Afraid it was going to be a close knit group and I would have to awkwardly wiggle my way in. I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack and freak out. I try to covertly control my anxiety and tell myself, breathe, breathe. I manage to calm myself down. I tell myself once were in the gym and we get setup and were playing I will be so happy I did this.

The doors open, everyone goes into the gym and starts changing. Okay, so change rooms aren't a thing, nice underwear. I'm awkwardly standing against the wall while everyone is still chatting and having a gay old time. My anxiety is going through the roof again. Two of the guys are setting up the net, people start getting together and practicing. Do I just walk over an join them? I would, but my feet are stuck to the ground. Can globus travel to your feet? Who is running the volleyball? Who do I give my money to? Why are they spiking the ball? I thought this was a recreational league. TOO MUCH!

FUCK THIS! I can't do this. Grab my shoes, stare at the ground and I walk out of there. As I open the gym doors, my lip is quivering, I'm doing everything I can not to cry. My eyes are tearing up, I get out of the school and there are some junior high kids hanging outside of the school. I look to the side, I don't want them to see me, this pathetic old man about to cry. I speed walk to my car, come on globus lets pick up the pace! I get in my car, slam the door shut and start crying. I slam my fist on the steering wheel and yell FUCK! What is wrong with you?!

I'm crying because I feel pathetic, I feel stupid and embarrassed. It's just recreational volleyball, what's the big deal? This shouldn't be so hard. A normal person would of just said "Hi, I'm here for the volleyball, who do I pay my money to?"

But. I have to give myself credit. I drove there. I got out of my car. I went into the school. Hell, I went into the gym. Yes, I left but I made it farther than I thought I would. I tried, I gave it my best. Each attempt is a step in the right direction. Do not give up.

Take that globus, not telling me I can't cancel my flight without penalty. Shit wrong globus.