Bi-Yearly HIV Appointment - Abnormal cells, medication change & more!

I had my bi-yearly appointment with my HIV doctor yesterday. My appointment was in person, not a telephone appointment. At first I was annoyed by this, I didn't want to drive all the way downtown. However, getting to see my doctor and nurse was great. They are both so kind, friendly and energetic. It was also good to get out and have a regular appointment which provided some normalcy during these uncertain times.

My viral load is still undetectable woot woot! We are going to switch my medication from Triumeq to Dovato. Apparently,studies show that three medications in one aren't needed for people who's HIV has been stable. I'm down for that! It's still only one pill but the less medication I need to take feels like a good thing since, I take quite a few for different issues. 

Unfortunately my liver enzymes are still high. Three years ago my family doctor sent me for an ultrasound, I was told I have the beginnings of non-alcoholic fatty liver disease. Well, three years later my enzymes are still high so I have to go for another ultrasound. Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, my appointment is on August 24th. I've been trying to eat healthy, the struggle is real.

I LOVE fast food. My Mom barely cooked when I was a kid, so we ordered out a lot. Our fridge and pantry were always full, my Mom bought healthy things but when we had pizza pops and wagon wheels in full stock all the time and she was at work all the time, choosing healthy was rarely a thing. My poor brain has been loving fast food since I was a kid. When I'm happy I want fast food. When I'm sad, I want fast food. When I'm angry, I want fast food. 

I've tried over the years, many, many, many times to stop eating fast food. My doctor was like you need to eat healthy, exercise and lose weight. I said "I'm trying." I've been going for long walks. I've been increasing my fruits and veggies but sometimes the cravings for fast food are so intense. Lately I've been working on self-compassion and working on my anxiety. I keep reminding myself every time I try to quit fast food cold turkey, I always crash. So I am trying to make small changes and increase them over time. I rarely drink alcohol anymore. Last year I decided to limit drinking alcohol to help my physical and mental health. I realized even if I just have a couple of drinks, my mental health would be impacted negatively because of it. 

I also have to go see a gastroenterologist because my anal pap smears keep showing abnormal cells (atypical squamous cells of undetermined significance - ascus). A few years ago I had to have some of the cells removed for a biopsy (side note: the doctor accidentally shocked my asshole and then I awkwardly had to figure out how to put a maxi pad on - (I'm a guy) - with no help from the medical staff, I realized it attached to the underwear haha). Thankfully the biopsy didn't come back as cancerous. Fingers crossed that will be the result again.

I also have to go for tests for blood sugar and cholesterol because I haven't had those done in quite awhile.

It was quite a jam packed appointment, usually I go in and it's:

💊 Any issues taking your medications? / How many doses have you missed?

💊 Your viral load is undetectable

💊 Your shots are all up to date

💊 Here is your prescription, see you in 6 months

I am thankful that I have an awesome doctor and an awesome nurse. I am thankful that anytime I've needed a shot, the cost is covered by our healthcare. I am thankful when I've needed a procedure, I didn't have to worry about going into health care debt, that our taxes go to our healthcare. I am thankful that I can discuss my HIV and my other health issues and needs with my family and friends.

Forgiving Myself - A letter from my adult self to my adult self

I've been struggling lately. I'm depressed. In my last post, I wrote about an experience I had at the bathhouse. This most recent experience made me re-live being raped there. I left the bathhouse upset. Instead of blaming the guy who didn't want to accept my no, I blamed myself. I told myself that it's my fault that this happened to me. It's my fault because I'm a whore for going to the bathhouse. It's my fault because I sleep with too many guys, I'm disgusting because I use sex as an escape.

In my last therapist appointment I brought up how I was feeling. I got really upset. I was shaking because I was so angry with myself. I wanted to hit myself I was so angry. I talked about how I keep watching more extreme porn, using bigger sex toys and having so much sex and making more extreme sex choices because it's like trying to achieve a high. I'm trying to numb how I feel. I know the numbness from the sex is only temporary but it's better than nothing. After my appointment, I realized something. I need to forgive myself.

I previously wrote a letter to myself, my child self writing my adult self, forgiving me for everything I had been through and forgiving me for how I felt. I realized I needed to write a letter from my adult self to my adult self for what I've been through as an adult, choices I made to help me survive my feelings.

The letter:

You're hurting, a lot. You're sad. You're angry. You feel ashamed. You blame yourself. You're disgusted with choices you've made. Sexual choices. You've been chasing a high to avoid how you feel. It hasn't worked. It just makes you feel worse. You keep making extreme sex choices because you feel lonely. You feel empty. Because it takes away the pain even knowing it's only temporary.

I forgive you. I really do. This isn't your fault. You do it because you don't know what else to do. I forgive you. You do these sexual things because of your past traumas. Being raped, having an alcoholic, angry father. A sister who committed crimes. Being bullied. Feeling abandoned. Feeling unwanted. Feeling unloveable. Feeling worthless. Feeling like an inconvenience.

Watching porn, using large sex toys. Going to the bathhouse and having sex with lots of guys. Putting on a blindfold and letting guys fuck you. You did all that because you blame yourself for everything. Because of what you've been through. I forgive you. You are not worthless. You're not an inconvenience. You're not unloveable. You are worth everything. You are loveable. You are worth kindness. You are worth respect.

You don't need to be extremely sexual. You don't need to escape your feelings anymore. You are capable of managing your feelings. You are capable of changing your circumstances. Your family loves and cares about you. Your friends care about and love you. I care about and love you.

Your past doesn't have to weigh you down. Your past doesn't make you less than. You are worth loving. I'm excited for you to accept and move past this. You've been surviving for so long. You have permission to live your life. You deserve happiness. You are forgiven. I love you.

Overwhelmed with Feelings

Fuck. The darkness is back. It's heavy, it's exhausting, it won't leave me alone. I went grocery shopping today. It felt like I was trying to complete a marathon. I kept wandering around aimlessly, forgetting what I needed. A mental fog slowing me down, my brain tingly with confusion. There was one point where I wanted to give up shopping for groceries and just sit down in the aisle. I didn't. I pushed through and got back to my car. I sat in my car for a few minutes, I was so exhausted.

I tried to give myself credit. Credit for getting out bed and showering. Credit for buying groceries and putting them away when I got home. I know those are accomplishments when I'm feeling like such garbage but the negative talk takes over. I start telling myself, people do these things everyday. They are expected of us. People do these things with kids and other obligations. I'm pathetic. I'm not, but I am, but I'm not. Fuck off negative thoughts. Fuck off.

The darkness, the depression, the negative thoughts are because I've been avoiding something. My previous post was about writing a letter to the man who raped me at the bathhouse. I was finally starting to free myself of that. It wasn't consuming my thoughts, every minute of every day anymore. I was breaking free of it's grip until I was at the bathhouse a couple weeks ago. I was laying on my stomach, this guy was fucking me. I wasn't enjoying it and I wanted to take a break. I said "I need to take a break." He responded "ah, really?" in an annoyed tone. "Yes, I want to take a break."

When I tried to get up he wrapped his arms around me, his arm pressed against the front of my neck and said "shh, shh, just lay there, lay there, it's okay, it's okay." I froze. I wanted to move, I couldn't. My brain, my body, wouldn't let me. When I was raped, I was also on my stomach. I said I wanted to stop. When I tried to get up, he pushed me back down.

As I laid there with this guys arms wrapped around me, his arm on my neck making it uncomfortable to breath, I was frozen. I wanted to yell. I wanted to get up. I couldn't move. I wanted his dick out of me. Instead, I laid there, replaying what happened to me the last time I said no. Remembering when I said no and tried to get up, the guy pushing me back down. Remembering when I tried to get loud, the guy putting his hand over my mouth and biting his hand didn't stop him. Not just remembering but reliving it.

This guy kept kissing me and telling me not to move, to just relax, to wait a moment, saying to me "it's okay." I finally was able to speak, I said "I want to stop, I don't want to do this anymore." He said "ah man!, fine!, lame!"in an angry tone and finally got off of me, got out of me. I laid there, unable to move, waiting for him to leave the room. He slowly wrapped his towel around him. His tone changed. In a friendly tone he said "okay, well have a good one, oh, oh, here's your lube, don't want you to lose it." After what felt like an eternity, he finally opened the door and left.

I stayed motionless, thinking to myself, how many times is this going to happen? I thought about the past, when I wasn't comfortable saying no, before I had the courage to withdraw consent, before I was able to assert my needs. I thought about all the times I wanted to say no and I didn't. The times I wanted to stop but I let the guy finish because I didn't want to make him mad. If I would have been able to say no, how many of them would have kept going?

(On a side note, I am listening to music while I write this and "Do what you want with my body" by Lady Gaga came on - bad fucking timing).

I know I shouldn't blame myself.  I shouldn't blame myself but I can't help it. I keep thinking, that it's my fault, my fault because I'm a slut for going to the bathhouse. It's my fault because I let him climb on top of me and fuck me, without even saying a word, without getting his name. I keep thinking about what a whore I am. I'm angry. I'm hurting and directing it all inward.

When these negative thoughts manifest, I become overwhelmed. I want them to stop. I keep imagining myself walking into the bathroom, grabbing a razor blade and sliding the blade across my skin. Anything to make the pain, the feelings stop. I would rather the pain of the blade than the pain of what I'm feeling.

It's been almost a couple years since I've cut myself. The last time I cut myself, I cut the word whore into my left thigh and the word faggot into my right thigh. The urge to do so again is strong, so strong. I resist because I don't want the scars. I don't want the daily reminder of what I did. I am lucky, the cuts healed last time, what if they don't this time? Instead of cutting, I eat. I eat too much. Too much fast food. After I gorge, I hate myself and I want to cut myself.

Instead of cutting myself, I am writing. I am talking about what happened. Sharing my feelings in the hopes of lifting some of this weight holding me down. Letting it out. However,

I'm... I'm... just so tired of trying to survive. When will I feel like I'm living and not just surviving? Will that ever happen? Is it possible?

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.

New blog post, new job, new medication

Eek ack wowza! It has been a year and half since I have written a blog post, way too long! This past July I was laid off, it was actually a good thing. I was hating my job and hating my manager, it was hard not to walk out with a smile. I started a new job in September, I am a Team Supervisor in a call centre. I have a lot of a call centre experience and managing/mentoring people is something I have wanted to do and have indirectly done in my past roles. In the four months I have been at the new job, it has been intense. A lot of things are broken, including staff from past poor management. There is a lot to fix and some days it has been overwhelming, but change is happening, slowly, but it is happening. We have a new Manager starting and I know her from one of my previous jobs and from what I remember she was amazing, so hopefully she still is!

Another big change is, I finally got in to see a Psychiatrist this past September. My doctor had referred me back in March 2014 and he finally followed up and they didn't get the original referral, so that is why it took so long to get in; better late than never. The Psychiatrist is the cutest little old man I have ever seen. He is shorter than me, I am 5 Feet 6 Inches, he wears these old style suits with a bow tie, I swear he must be in his 80's. I want to put him in my pocket. He had me fill out a bi-polar screening test, I selected yes to everything. He looked at it and said, you should not have been on Zoloft at all. I said that makes sense, a week before my episode back in February, my Zoloft dose was increased. He said that would do it.

He prescribed me 600 mg of lithium. I started taking it right away and had my blood taken a week later. I had my follow up appointment with him and he asked me how I was feeling. I told him I had never felt better. For over two years I had been going to my family doctor repeatedly complaining of severe fatigue. All I did was sleep, sleep and more sleep. I went from seeing my friends multiple times in a week, to once a week on the weekend. As soon as I started taking Lithium my energy levels were fixed, I told him I didn't nap once this past week. He was happy for me and also surprised that I was noticing a change so quickly.

He upped my dose to 900 mg a day to get the blood levels up to the therapeutic range. The next follow up appointment he said that my blood levels were in the therapeutic range and that we would stick with the 900 mg dose. He asked me if I was still feeling good and I said that I was. I let him know that my roommate, who is also one of my best friends, said she had noticed changes in me. My friend noticed that I was coming out of my room a lot more, I was more social with her and her husband. She also said that I was posting on Facebook much more and that it was quite funny, he gave me a weird look when I told him this. He was probably thinking what's a Facebook.

I went to my pharmacy to fill the prescription and the Pharmacist asked how the medication was going. I said really well, that I hadn't felt this energetic in such a long time. She looked at me concerned, and then I realized and said oh I mean normal amounts of energy, not too much energy haha. She laughed and said oh good, and she was really happy that the medication was working so well for me. I love my pharmacy, everyone who works there knows my name, they are always so friendly and genuinely care.

It has been a frustrating few years of trying different anti-depressants and having various doctors not take me seriously because I don't fit the DSM Manual criteria perfectly or because I am so self aware. Fingers crossed the Lithium continues to work for me, and a big hallelujah for finally getting to see a doctor who got me onto the correct medication.