happy?

Being diagnosed HIV positive has few good points.

Lets look at the good points:

You tend to appreciate the little things. Even if it is for a brief period when you first find out you test was “reactive” ( They don’t say positive and negative that’s too confusing.) You do have a better appreciation for everything.
Um…
well that about wraps up the good things.

Lets look at the crappy things shall we?

Ah the little things. They are also the things that will be your undoing. Little things like people flaking out on you. Saying things like "Sure I’ll go to the doctors with you because I know your worried and need support." And don’t call and don’t e-mail or text they just don’t care. The little things like that. These little things make ya feel real great about yourself and your place in the world.

You know that one day you will be sick. If a car crash or terrorist attack or stroke or heart attack or cancer or drunk driver or earthquake or tsunami wont kill you first you always have this to fall back on. (great a back up plan!)

Every goddamn bug you catch there is a moment that you think. “is this the start? Is this the one that will do it?” Every damn cold, flu, sneeze, cough, fart, everything!

You worry that you have what has coldly been referred to in the office as AIDSFACE. You know… the sunken in look like you just crawled out of a concentration camp. Little things like people who haven’t seen you in six months don’t recognize you start to freak you out. Aidsface also goes for puffy unexplained rapid weight gain in my book.

You stop dating. (oh wait who am I fooling lets start putting this in the correct person)
I stopped dating. Why? Because it hurts when you tell people and they disappear. They treat you like are already dead. Like your sitting on a box o dynamite waiving a sparkler under a fuse.

That hurts. That made me feel like there was no reason to live. None.

I have developed a complex system of delusions to make me not feel this way but every so often the reality hits me.
People don’t want to know anyone who is could be sick.

Meds.
hmm to be allowed the luxury of staying alive to have people avoid you (now this is with insurance) 200.00 a month. That’s the basic meds. That’s what I get to shell out every 30 days just so assholes can consider me a nonperson. WHAT A FUCKIN’ DEAL THAT IS!

I don’t want to make friends because eventually I’ll have to tell them and the reactions are so unpredictable. I’ve had "friends" go thru some freaky mourning then poof their gone. I’m not dead! (and they are not my friends) Yes I know if people do that then they are not your friends. True. I'm not saying all my friends had gone away I'm saying the ones that did hurt my feelings. (aww what a lil baby!)

Sex : what the fuck is that? When was the last time I had it? Who knows?
I like sex I love it. That what got me into this mess to begin with!

I'm getting older. I dont have my stunning good looks to fall back on. I just have my 10th grade education my bitter disposition and bad health. But boy what a great combo for the person who wants to be partners with me until i'm dead WHOOO HOO!

I don’t want to end up on Heart’s Island in a pine box with a sharpied number on the lid.
I’m coming to terms with the fact I may never find someone to share my life with.
This blog may be a little more important to me than I had realized