Come and Go

 It's hard pretending for so many people all the time... 

I find myself so angry at times. It's been ten years since the day that I tested HIV Positive. My LiFE was already changing before then, being that I was recently forced out the closet by the girl that I chose not to marry. I didn't want to lie to her, nor mySelf anymore. so out of anger she told mt mom. Who then blamed herSelf for my Sexuality, as if she had done something wrong that made me gay. I had to tell her that it wasn't her choice, nor any fault of her. The lack of support that I have gotten over the years has left me so very bitter toward so many people who I thought was family, or LOVED me without condition.

Before anyone knew that I was gay, I was highly liked in the church that I attended. My family saw me as someone else who they were happy with. while I was very unhappy, and unsure of mySelf. I had allowed others to convince me that I was demon possessed. Feeling that something was wrong with me, and afraid to lose all the people I loved I fought hard to not be gay. I would Hide in my garage and pray on my knees in tears, asking GOD to make me normal. I so badly wanted to be like everyone else, and have the same feelings that everyone else had. I grew to hate mySelf. I couldn't control the feelings, I couldn't stop the dreams. I couldn't even stay away from the one guy that I gave in to. I couldn't help mySelf. I care for him so much. Every time he came over, no matter how hard I tried not to do anything, something happened anyway. Of course, in the moment I thought nothing of it. We loved each other, or at least that's what it felt like. At a young age we were very committed to one another. We would talk of the future saying how we both were going top be openly gay famous individuals. I was going to have community centers all over the US, and he was going to be a famous Pro Basketball player who would talk to the youth for me.

We had dreams and ambitions together. We spent every weekend together, and talked on the phone almost everyday. From fear of us getting caught I wanted to back away from our relationship until we were both old enough, and on our own to make our own decisions of who we want to be with, without anyone telling us we can or can't. I spoke with him about it, and he wasn't happy at all. He began to cry and throw things, saying that I didn't LOVE him.  I explained to him that I would always LOVE him, and he'd be the only one for me, but he wasn't having that. He cried hysterically. I broke into tears, "Okay...Okay," I said I gave into what he wanted. No matter how afraid I was. I cared for him too much to watch him hurt. Plus, he threatened to take his own life.

There I was, sitting in my mother's closet of her room, while she was sleeping. I'm crying, telling him just how much I LOVE him. Even though I didn't want to say that. I believe that I would still be with him or at least friends if I would have stuck to my gut. A few months later he began to act funny. He began to avoid my calls, stop calling as much, only calling to have phone sex. Finally, he invited me over to spend the night and confessed to me that he didn't want to be gay anymore. Confused, I asked, "You don't want to love me anymore?"

"I will always LOVE you, but we can't be together like we are. He kissed me on my cheek and that was the last time that we slept together.  I cried myself to sleep. That year was very tough for me. I was entering college for the first time, and I no longer knew what I thought I did. I really felt as if something was wrong with me.

Can I be straight? Can I LOVE a woman for my whole life? Am I demon possessed, and if I am how was he delivered and not me? These were the questions that ran through my mind. We remained friends, but the conversation was different. It was as if we had never done anything. He'd pretend as if it never happened. I stopped talking to him. I avoided him like a plague, and tried to live the life that my family and church set before me. I coaxed mySelf into believing that this was the life for me. I will be straight and I will marry a girl. And in very little time I met someone, we got engaged and set a date. It's all so vague, I was on auto-pilot most times, and other times I let other people tell me what I should and should not do, say, or think. I hadn't even reach the ripe age a twenty-one, and already I was making LiFE decisions. That I felt I had no control over.

"Do you know, one of my closest friends at that time looked me in my face when I told I was positive and said, "This is your punishment from GOD for being disobedient. As if I didn't already hate myself..."

Don't get me wrong, I loved going to church, and singing on the choir. I introduced the Mime Ministry to my church, with lots of adversity. I maintained a "good" life, but there was still this one aspect to myself that I could not git rid of. No matter how hard I tried, No matter how much I spoke in tongues, or had the holy spirit hit me I could NOT get rid of this Lust for the male anatomy. I wasn't a whore, and had only been with guys whom I were emotionally close to, and friends with. Guys that everyone else just knew we were good friends. But during the time with the girl I never disrespected. She and I weren't having sex, and I wasn't going to have sex with anyone else while proclaiming her to be my future bride.  But I needed to know if this was what I wanted. So we tried to have sex, and it was then I KNEW deep within every fiber of my Being That Joshua does not like women, and it is okay. I told here. "I can't do this..."

"Do what, have sex?"

"No. marry you. I'm gay." I said flatly.

"But how? I thought you didn't have those feelings anymore?" She was in tears by this moment.

"I lied. I tried, but it's not going to work." For the first time in a long time I finally felt sleepy, rolled over, closed my eyes and went to sleep while she prayed on the floor. I guess within the next few days is when she told my mother. I have sympathy for my mother, she expected different of me as a son. That planted some deep self at at one point, always feeling I will let her down. However, I learned to have pride in my strong choices and decisions. I began to look for myself openly. I was twenty years old, still young, and I wanted to know what the world had to offer. I got to know a few men, some of them were really nice, while others were just out to get for themselves. I didn't become a whore. Hell, I had still only had sex with one guy. I still loved him. Determined to create a new me and get to know new people, I started going to the club. I had a blast. I'd smoke a blunt and dance the night away. I would hope to meet someone, but that was always never. I almost wanted to give up until I met one short, sexy man.

He was standing across the club full of people. It was dark, but somehow we managed to meet eyes. I wanted so badly to say hello, but my fear kept me from opening myself. When the club closed and I was walking to my car, I saw that he was parked near me. Another guy happened to be giving the cutie his number. The cutie saw that I was going to speak, and quickly changed my mind. Wait, he lipped. The other guy walked away, and the cutie gave me his number, and I called him so he could have my number. Then I went home. I was excited, I just recently broke off an engagement, and I was going to have an opportunity to get to know another man.

The next night he called, and asked me if I wanted to chill with him before he headed to work. I hopped in my car and drove from one end of Charlotte, to the other to meet him. He got in my car, and we talked. The connection was so strong we couldn't resist kissing, and before you know it we were in the back seat of my Ford Thunderbird fucking. Then we drove to a hotel uptown Charlotte, got a room and had sex all night long. I appreciated him for it. After that day we talked everyday. It wasn't a one night stand, we connected that night, and emotionally connected there after. I revealed things about myself to him, secrets and fears. Then one day he stopped talking, I said the wrong thing and he hung up on me. I wasn't hurt, low key, I was expecting it.

Within a mother I was dating again. I met this woman who wanted to connect her son with an older guy that would be good for him. She gave me his number and I called. We connected instantly, and he became the third guy I had ever had sex with. The first guy that i was able to openly say I loved. My family wasn't very accepting, very few. While we were together I fell ill. I had the flu for what seemed like weeks, and it just went away. I knew then something was different. He did too, but still stuck with me. I LOVED him even more, for sticking with me through great uncertainty. There were so few people who had my back at this time. I had lost my church family, my real family had become even more distant to me, and all my friends seemed so far away. I needed him in my life at that moment. The day I got tested he was the one to comfort me. I hate how the events of that day played out, but I do n remember how much he comforted me. I will always remember how badly some people hurt me that day. I am always told I should let go of the past, but I am beginning to believe that the people who say that have done the hurting. Do you know, one of my closest friends at that time looked me in my face when I told I was positive and said, "This is your punishment from GOD for being disobedient. As if I didn't already hate myself...

I can't just let it go, these event forever changed my Life, and so many people were involved, and had a hand in my LiFE, but I am the only one who has to take responsibility. I think that's bull-shit. Yeah, Now I can take responsibility for the actions that I do now, but then? I feel I can't be held responsible for going out into the world blind and confused. No one took my hand, no one stood up for me... But I must choose to just move on and get over it... I still get so upset that I have been going through my most hardest of times in my life alone. I have my husbond now, but at times we feel so alone in a world of people who will never understated, and don't seem to try hard to understand our world. Instead, we must be forced to live in a world that was made for us, and continue to get over and look past what is really going on. It's hard pretending for so many people all the time...

You can't even See it

When you look at me you can't even see it. It's not like it's marked on my head, or hand. i don't yell it out. I don't tell anyone, unless necessary. You look at me and you don't even see it. No lesions, no wasting, no sudden appearance. You can't even see it. Silent enough for you not to not notice. At work. At church. on the bus. Sitting beside you, and you still can't see it.

I Ran from My HIV *GRAPHIC* (Part 2)

As I was driving my boyfriend called me and asked me to come get home from school. Wanting to see him, and mostly needing some comfort and affection I rushed to his school. Giving him no time to get in the car I got out and tightly wrapped my arms around him. "Hold me tighter," I told him. He tried with all of his might.

"What's wrong," I looked him deeply into his eyes and told him what the doctor told me. In tears he walked to grab his belongings and got in my car. We want back to his house, and I told him that I was planning to leave. "Where are you going to go?" I had no idea, but I had to leave. He cried and begged me to stay. I sat there at his home for hours with him convincing me to go home and tell my family. He didn't know that I left a note for my mother and she would soon be reading it. We sat and held each other in tears, until my phone rang with my sister on the other end telling me to come home. Terrified, I got into my car and drove home.

My sister, the one that called, met me at the door. Kissed me on my cheek, and left. I walked into my front door, and heard my mother in the dining rooming crying out to God. I bypassed her and walked upstairs. I saw my niece, and she instantly jumped out of the bed and hugged me tight. I walked into my other sisters room, and my oldest niece was crying. I asked her why, She said she didn't want me to be sick. My sister sat there with the note in her hand. "Joshua..." My mother called my name. Reluctantly, I walked downstairs to the dining room, to her sitting at the dining room table. "Sit down, Joshua... Why didn't you ask me to go with you?" I sat there quietly, not knowing what to say. "You could've asked me, you could've told me..." She began to cook dinner as I sat there, quiet, and lost. My brother and His wife barged in.

"What happened? Why I am being picked up from work?" He asked.

"Tell him. Tell him what you did Joshua..." I looked at my mother in confusion, and told my brother about my positive test. he reacted as if i had already died, or the doctor told me that I was dying.

He began to pace back and forth, "I don't believe that you could do this." Stunned and in shock,  couldn't respond, I was being blamed for it. I wasn't a victim of HIV, but a deviant who did something 'wrong' to get HIV. With impeccable timing my phone rang. My boyfriend was on the other end.

"Who is doing that yelling?" He began to cry, "Why are they yelling at you? Joshua, get in your car and come here. they shouldn't be yelling at you."

Before I could respond, my brother reacted, "'See... that's why you're in the situation you're in now." He grabs my phone and snaps it in half. As soon as the phone snapped, so did I.

"Man, FUCK THIS SHIT!" I slammed my fist down on the table, "I don't need this right now." I walked through the kitchen, passing the stove, grabbing a pot of beans and throwing them across the kitchen. Putting on my shoes, my brother came behind me and began to choke me. In response I began to punch him in the face vehemently. I drew blood before he let go. Now, everyone around us is crying, and I am trying to get away. When I finally got into my car, I reversed it, and drove it slam into a tree. I was hoping to die, but I guess I wasn't going fast enough.

Afraid to go back home, and with no where to go and with no one to trust, i went to the closest grocery store to call my sister to come pick me up. Since I had no phone, I had no numbers. the only number I could remember was my boyfriend. "Josh, hat happened? You just cut out? what happened?" Crying, I tried to tell him. The people in the store walked by me like I was crazy, and that was the moment I knew I lived in a cold dark world. He called my sister for me, and she picked me up, took me back home and told me I was safe.

I didn't feel safe. I barely felt anything. I didn't even know what to fell, especially since contracting HIV was my fault, and I felt I deserved punishment. I knew that death would be my punishment. "The wages of sin is death," that's what they told me. I had ultimately sinned, and the price was to die. At that thought, at the top of my lungs I wailed, and my LiFE was forever changed

There is better

Just sitting and Thinking: http://youtu.be/yNupcrJo30M

I Ran from My HIV (Part 1)

I remember the day I tested Positive, or should I say was told by a health physician that I was HIV positive. The date was April 19, 2005. I had recently turned 21, and been in a relationship since February of that year. I had contracted a sexually transmitted disease, which was weird to me because I was only having sexual intercourse with one guy, my boyfriend. A man should only have two things come from his penis, and this wasn't one of them. I went to the Doctor on a Thursday got treatment for Chlamydia on that Friday. When I questioned the nurse who called me about my HIV test she told me it hadn't come in.

I got high as hell that whole weekend. I smoked blunt, after blunt, after blunt. I smoked mySelf into an escape, so far into I don't remember the weekend. I do remember that Monday. I went to work, and after I got off I picked up the boo from school. We went back to his house, and around four in the afternoon a nurse from my doctor's office called and instructed me to call the office and make an appoint to speak about the results. "What are they? Tell me, I want to know..."

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to make an appointment." As soon as I hung up the phone I called to make an appointment for that Tuesday morning at 10:15am. I instantly broke down; I kept quiet and told no one.

Sitting in the white office, with green carpets, and green upholstered chairs I waited quietly Impatient. I was numb. Even when she called my name I was absent and hypnotized by the words in my mind. The Doctor walked in, and almost in slow motion, she mindlessly thumbed through chart, "Your Chlamydia came back positive. Did you get the treatment? ...that's negative.... that's negative." and with no effort, and devoid of any emotion, "Your HIV text came back positive, and ...that's negative. Okay so, let's get your western blot.." She trailed off, like, as if I were floating into space.

I am Positive, I actually have it. I didn't cry or breakdown. I let them draw my blood and I was gone. I picked up the phone while in the car, calling my best friends on three-way. They were the first to know, and very supportive. I even made half-hearted jokes about it. The reality of it set in when my mom called me and asked me to take her to pay a bill while on her lunch break. I went home grab a few clothes and I planned to 'run away' after I dropped her back off at work.

I picked her up and pretended as if nothing happened. Just thinking about how I felt, reminding me of the anxiety behind breaking my mother's heart with her own fears. I couldn't do it face to face, so we just talked as if it were any normal day. At home, on her dresser was a sorry note waiting for her from me. I bought my mother lunch, dropped her back off at work, and drove away.

HIV is a Billion Dollar Industry

It's not that I go around Yelling, "I'm HIV POSITIVE!" I am open about my infection, but only if the conversation arises, or it's 'time' to tell. I generally do not like being around individuals who don't know, which also makes me not want to be around individuals who I felt I couldn't Tell. At first I was afraid to tell almost anyone, especially guys that I found attractive. I didn't tell the lot of them, and kept any sexual fantasies to mySelf. If I felt that I want to go 'there' with them I'd tell them about my status. It's a life of selective secrecy. Do I tell my job? Do I tell my friends? Which family members should know? Do they even care enough to be educated?

There is a delusion surrounding the virus. There are still people dying to this day, and there is a huge profit being made. My medication alone nears $3,000/month. My Husbond's, nears $6,000. That's roughly $9,000 a month in medication without necessary mental Health Medicine. $108,000 a year from just the two of us; there are millions of positive individuals. HIV is a Billion dollar industry. The Medicine does keep individuals alive, and there is a cost. So many HIV positive individuals have complications because of the medicine that is being taken: some developed intestinal issues, some have developed issues where it has become almost impossible for the body to harvest any nutrients because of "wasting," a disorder that causes the body to evacuate food quickly after consumption. It slowly starves the body.  It weakens the bones, and ages the body. It has made me wiser. But I had to go through so much just to get here, and the fight has yet to be won!

The Infection in My Blood

No matter how many times I get my blood drawn I will never get used to the feeling. Me being lite skin I bruise easily.

They take my blood to see if the medicine is working. My white blood count level must be high, and my Viral count must see undetectable. That doesn't mean I don't have it, there's just not enough virus copies in my system to count. I'll know in a month if my medicine is working or not. I also start my new psych meds. No more cloudy days.

Living Healthy

I've been doing this for almost 10 years; going to the doctor, getting my blood tested, and taking life saving meds. Without these precautions I wouldn't survive.

I think there is a delusion about HIV/AIDS, not a Myth. Many people have this notion that medicine makes everything better. I mean it does sustain my LiFE, but at a great cost. I've been on several medications since my infection in 2005. My first medicine was a drug trip, and I woke up feeling drunk everyday. My second cocktail gave me violent diarrhea for more Than three months, while in school. I still managed to pass all of my classes, but sitting down was a task. My digestive system hasn't been the same since.

My regimen now isn't the worst, but now I'm taking antipsychotic drugs. The downfall, all of my medicine isn't covered under North Carolina ADAP. Not being on certain medicine does cause a lot of "cloudy" days. Not much work gets done. So here I am at the doctor clearing these is issues.