10 Year Anniversary: Some Reflections

It was 10 years ago I was diagnosed at that grotty little clinic in Regent's Park.  I've written about all that in a previous entry: please do read if you haven't already by clicking here.  This is just a series of unimportant, random little reflections since posting that blog in September.


The same day of my HIV test, my colleague and best friend at work Lisa had a breast cancer scan result.  We'd joked in our usual vacuous and flippant way about the possible outcomes: what combinations of "Sad Face and Happy Face" would it be for us?  As it turned out is was "Happy Face" for Lisa and "Sad Face" for me.  Lisa was the first person I told, immediately after leaving the clinic.  I've still got the card she gave me the next day: dated 28 November 2001. 

There are some private jokes in it, but here goes:

Peter, 

Life begins here! Enough (already) of the self-doubt... start dancing... become a Forum groupie.. give a free rein to your perverse & utterly unacceptable sense of humour... throw caution to the wind... be my friend forever... let's get drunk soon & go shopping together... here's to lattes & jokes no one else finds funny.... down with people who frown on colour analysis and shudder at the "c" word... just think the world is now your oyster (if in doubt, use a cliché.)


All my love

Lisa Xx :-)

PS Pls use the enclosed to find someone who can help you on the path to total self-fulfilment (a professional that is!)


PPS Just ask "What is really great about this situation...?" I have concluded that all self-help gurus are total c*nts.


What actually wonderful words (hah, especially the last sentence, which I'll come on to).

I think back now to what I was going through then and the ten years that have passed.  I have tried to do what Lisa suggested.  I did leave a career that was destroying me inside and have tried to put the self-doubt behind me.  I have many, many things to be grateful for in life.  I have the dog I always wanted and who gives me the most absurd amount of happiness every day.  I have continued to travel, I have made many wonderful new friends.  It's true I have not found anyone to love on a proper basis since the long term relationship that preceded my diagnosis.  Is this anything to do with my status?  Really, I don't think so.  The biggest stress in my life comes from the dream I want to fulfill regarding my work and the risks I have taken to do that. Again nothing to do with HIV. 


All in all, apart from (major caveat of) the work situation, I'm in an incredibly good space.  It's been a pretty great ten years.  I never believed it would be possible on that bleak day back in November 2001.  I'm well physically.  I'm well emotionally.  I'm doing what we all do, plodding on through life: learning, laughing, living.

I wanted to get a difficult balancing act over in my blog: I want to continue to stress how important it is to protect yourself by not contracting HIV.  I don't want in any way to minimise the effect it can have picking up the virus.  I therefore deliberately mentioned the time I gave up all hope and tried to end things by shoving a bag over my head.  I don't want people thinking "Oh you just pop some pills, it's okay, let's forget to protect ourselves" - so many young people, straight and gay, do seem to have this attitude.  On the other hand, I wanted to show that there is a huge amount of hope and positivity (cringe) about being positive.  A diagnosis is not the end of your life.


Publishing my blog was a massive step for me.  I was terrified of the reactions.  I'd actually thought about it for months before hand.  Several friends on and off Twitter warned me off doing it: or at least tried to make sure I was aware of the consequences.  People I know in real life follow me on here who didn't know my status, including two people I work with.  I sent the link to my big brothers who also didn't know: I'd only told Mutti.  The blog explained things better than I could in a call, though we obviously spoke after they'd read it.  I was also of course throwing myself open to complete strangers as well as people who knew and interacted with me through Twitter.  What would their judgements be like?  I was scared of nastiness, misunderstanding, judgmentalism.


So how were those reactions?  Amazing.  Touching.  Beautiful.  I was in "Twitter Jail" twice, trying to respond to the incredible wave of love that flooded towards me after publishing it.  I had around 1000 @ messages plus a raft of DMs.  People I knew from Twitter, whom I didn't know were HIV+, told me about their status.  I picked up a couple of new followers who had been recently diagnosed.  People told me about friends or family members who had died of Aids (there have been 19,912 in the UK to date).  I helped a Twitter friend who was scared he might be positive by talking with him on the phone about getting tested (he's fine as it turns out, though I had a couple of sleepless nights).  I've been asked to hold a World Aids Day student talk at Essex University next Thursday.

One of the most touching things was that people said I'd explained things to them and increased their knowledge about the condition.  If that is helping with the stigma so many HIV+ people feel, in whatever limited way, then I am delighted and it was worth it.  We will only deal with stigma by putting our heads above the parapet and showing yes I'm one of those faceless statistics: the 90,000 or so people in the UK living with HIV.  A lot of people opened up to me and friendships were deepened.  This happens when you stop talking about the weather and are instead open and honest about things that really matter.  I am actually so glad I pressed publish - it helped me to write the blog, and by publishing it I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders. It is amazing and heart-warming to think it may have helped anyone.


Lisa (jokingly) quoted a self-help course we had both been on in her card (the Landmark Forum, which is outstanding and the lessons of which I know we both still use daily 14 years later).  One of the exercises is stepping back and asking "What is great about this bad situation?" It is -literally- comical to ask that the day after you've been diagnosed with HIV.  However today on 27 November 2011, looking back, I have to say an incredible amount of things: going through this horrendous experience has put me in a very different place today.

Life is a long path of learning.  I know, like everyone, I still have a long way to go.  I want to hide sometimes - just scream "enough, just please stop" when the challenges come up and I want for it all to stop, to feel safe again.  But I do really believe that the biggest breakthroughs present themselves in the context of the biggest breakdowns.  This may sound the oddest thing to say, but if a genie offered me three wishes today, being negative again would not be one of them.  I don't feel HIV has a power over my life, and there are simply other hopes and dreams for myself and others that I would put above that wish.


Thank you for reading this, thank you everyone who sent me messages of support or who retweeted by original blog.  I really am extremely grateful.


Peter x