Remember Remember...

Most of the time I don't think about it,

Like it happened to someone else.

Then it hits me, and I, uh, can't stop crying...

You know that phrase, 'today is the first day of the rest of your life'.  Well that's true.  They just don't always point out that might not be a good thing.

The last week has been all kinds of hell, and is one I won't be forgetting anytime soon.  Friends, and loves, have had their worlds fall apart around them, and then mine started to crumble too.

Halloween is my favourite holiday in the entire year.  It's a day when everyone goes to hell with expectations and taboo and the concept of what's acceptable and permissible and let's just go with it.  We are given the liberty, for one day in the year, to be something we're not, or we always wanted to be, or just for the hell of it.  We're given permission to gorge ourselves on candy, even when we're long past the age of knocking on doors for it and just go buy it from the store ourselves.  And for one day, we don't cast those judgemental looks at people who eat some strange food, or walk down the street wearing bizarre clothes, or act crazy and play pranks on coworkers and the like.

Halloween is a day I always look forward to every year.

And then this year, this happened:

That's my rapid HIV test from the sexual health clinic last Wednesday.  The top faint red line in the middle is the control.  The second red line shows it was reactive.

So yeah, that's happening...

And today, the 5th November, I had the full bloodwork results back that confirmed this.  So here's a post about that.  It's going to be all over the place because that's what my mind is like right now, but there you go.



I guess first, why in the hell am I blogging about this and putting such a thing out on the internet?!?!  Well, I know who tends to read this blog, and they're people already know, or would find it out or work it out sooner or later anyway.  It's a way for me to articulate, and work through my own feelings and thoughts on the matter, and record the development of those over time.  It gives me a way to say some of the things I might not be able to face saying in person.  And the people who know me, or read my blog regularly, know I'm fairly upfront and honest about things.  I'm not gonna insert something into a conversation for the sake of it, but if something's relevant I tend to have no problem being matter of fact about it.  If something major is happening in my life and I'm thinking about it a lot, it's gonna end up on my blog one way or another.

So how am I doing?  Honestly, I have no idea.  It hasn't really sunk in yet.  I'm doing that wonderful detachment and shock thing that tends to accompany such news, and that I'm a hardcore pro at especially.  Occasionally a wave of emotion hits me, and all I want to do is cry.  But I very rarely cry.  I've mentioned that in past posts.  And so far, I've teared up a little, but I haven't properly cried about it.  It'll hit me eventually.

I had the appointment for the confirmation at 2pm today.  Since about 2am this morning I was so completely terrified.  I couldn't eat or drink anything I was so nervous.  I've never been nervous like that.  I don't get nervous by and large, but even when I do, it doesn't give me any kind nausea, just anxiety.  But today I couldn't face anything before that appointment.

I spent the 5 days in between the fingerprick test and today's appointment trying to gear myself up to the concept.  Oh sure, it might be a false positive, and I'd been on PEP not that long ago which can fuck with the readings.  But everyone hopes for a false positive, and they are still very much the minority outcome.  Chances are, if the fingerprick tests shows up, you've got it.  Plus I found it easier to start the lengthy process that will be coming to terms with this 5 days earlier and then hope that I could breathe a huge sigh of relief today, than rely too much on what turns out to be false hope and get crushed all over again.

The weekend I got so high I couldn't think straight.  And everytime coherent thoughts started to form in the back of my head, I went and got higher.  And this worked for 3 days.  Until some time in the early hours this morning.  Sure, it might not have been the best or most advisable method of coping with the news, but it worked for me, so who's to argue?  But eventually, morning comes, and you have to stop standing idly in that shower for no real reason, and turn the water off and face the fact there real world is still out there waiting for you, and doesn't stop.


The diagnosis is made all the harder by the fact that I was genuinely not expecting a positive result.  Oh sure, I've been idiotic at times.  If this had happened this time last year it would still have sucked, but I'll freely admit I was being stupid and wouldn't have been surprised by the result.  But since January there's always been some kind of 'significant other' type figure in my life, and quite frankly, I take CONSIDERABLY better care of myself in all sorts of ways when I have someone else to worry about, when my actions directly impact someone else's life as well as my own.  Yes, there had been the PEP incident a while ago, but I thought I was clear on that.

So I was expecting a non reactive result.  The only other person I'd knowingly not used condoms with in those 6 months was definitely negative and known very well to me.  Because of the fact that I'm a sensible boy and go get tested for everything every 3 months, we can basically pin my infection down to sometime in the last 6 months.  I also see no point in denying that yes, I do have sex on drugs, and you probably all know by now I like my sex as rough as I can get.  So it either the guy that resulted on me being on PEP, though I was topping so that's damned unlucky, or it's not outside the realms of plausible possibilities that condoms got torn without noticing.  I'm usually pretty astute on these things - again, I might do silly things like have rough sex with strangers on drugs, but I have some sensibilities, and I do check that the guy has a condom on and replace them during long sessions etc, but I do have to be open to the idea that something might have slipped past my notice.  I may take risks in one way or another, but they are calculated, and however it's happened, I can definitely count myself as unlucky, and the fact to the best of my knowledge and ability I'd taken all sensible precautions to stop something like this from happening, made the blow all that harder when it came.

To those wondering, I don't know anything more yet besides having HIV.  They've taken a million and one vials of blood for all the various tests, I should have my CD4 count and viral load details next week.  So check back here then


Of course, anything like this brings with it its own good things and bad things all wrapped up within it.  I told all my closest friends about the reactive test.  More people will end up finding out now that I've had it confirmed, but your closest friends are there to be the ones that support you through even the possibilities of bad news.  My 2 best friends were with me the rest of halloween night, Thursday I met another friend and he took me for lunch for 3 hours.  Friday I met another friend and got hugs from him before heading home to spend 11 hours playing video games so I didn't have to think too much.  Saturday I saw an ex of mine who has been living with HIV for years, and he reminded me that he still gives some of the best hugs I've ever had, and promised me all his love and support, and the fact that I can talk to him as someone who will know EXACTLY what I am going through right now.

It had disappointments too.  One best friend seemed to be oblivious to the fact that I was starting to breakdown, despite me actively telling him.  Admittedly, I didn't respond to this in the best manner (my ability to emotionally articulate myself plummets quite spectacularly when in certain situations), and I have my own amends to make for that when the time comes, but plenty of people who knew me considerably less well could see something was up with me, and that my friend's actions were fairly poorly judged in the first place, so I know I'm not completely over reacting.  The other best friend promised to come hold my hand today.  The boy I really really want to hold me right now can't, so in his place I had the next best thing.  The last thing I said to my friend was "don't be late".  We arranged to meet half an hour early.  And he still missed  my appointment.  The worst part is I don't even see the point of bitching him out on that.  There is no amend to be made for that one.  There is no next time, or making it up, the moment has passed, and nothing can change that.  So no amount of wanting to punch him right now is going to change that either.  If someone else wants to punch him on my behalf right now I probably wouldn't stop you.  But he's a best friend, so knowing him, when he reads this, he'll punch himself for feeling so bad.

A few people took holiday days to support me today.  I'm not entirely sure why.  There's been no support for them to give.  I understand one person's reason for taking holiday today.  And I am really grateful that he did.  But quite a few of you seem to have wasted holiday or lost out on wages for no gain, for myself or you to be honest.

It's funny to see who comes out of the woodwork.  I haven't posted specifics on facebook or twitter per se. But I've posted tweets about the bad week I've been having, and some people have managed to put 2 + 2 together and come to the right conclusion.  Various people are sending me messages and dms and so on and so forth asking what's going on, or indicating they have an idea and offering their support.  I've commented on the following before, and I continue to find it funny/sad: that friends on a different continent, thousands of miles away, half a day behind, can keep up better with my life and offer more support and better words than people in my life who live 20 minutes away.

Honestly, I'm not ungrateful for your support, it is appreciated, and it will be needed, in all its various forms over the coming weeks and months.  But I also find it a little odd.  Those people who are like the opposite of fair-weather friends.  People who are rarely in your life on a regular basis, but are instantly by your side in times of crisis.  The comments of good luck from quite a few people.  Like this is something that be overcome.  Oh I can get used to it and deal with it and manage it.  But it's unnaturally something that is now going to impact my life, and the decisions i have to make in it forevermore.  I don't get that sentiment.  And frankly, I would trade all your hugs to be held by just one man right now.  In the morning I have to ring work, and book myself to some shifts, and start earning money again, and be a grown up.  When all I want to do is being that scared little kid cowering in the corner, hiding in the dark, pulling the covers over my head, with someone there to hold me until I've cried myself out so much I've fallen asleep from exhaustion, and tell me that somehow, they will magically make it all okay, in that way that you believe as a scared child.  But that whole being a grown up thing means you can't do this anyone  certainly you very rarely get the opportunity to when you want.  You have to earn money, you have to face other people, you have to be pleasant and polite, and not start to cry every single time you stop for longer than 10 seconds, and some things can't be fixed, and some things aren't quite okay in the same way ever again.

People tell me they're here for whatever I need.  I honestly couldn't tell you what I need right now, or what I want, and I don't think I could tell the difference between the two, or if there is one at this point in time.  I know one thing I want.  Desperately.  And it's something I can't have right now.  I have to wait for it.  I have to be a grown up and sort it out myself and wait until the right time.  And I hate that more than anything in the world right now.


But life goes on.  It has to.  Or you'll get washed away by the current as it goes past regardless if you don't at least attempt to *swim.  I'll survive, I'll get over it, and I'll deal with it.  There's just going to be some fallout for you all for a while before then.  I guess this means no more cuts and bruises and biting and crazy rough sex for the guy who's basically a walking lethal weapon now.

At least I get to abuse this line with impunity in casual conversation now:

"I'm not just positive, I'm HIV positive."

Big boys don't cry...

Once upon a time a boy told me not to cry.

He told me not to let them see my fear, and my worries, and my doubts, and to force a smile through it all, and grin and bear it, and to make them all think I knew what I was doing, that none of the things they said or did bothered me, that I would be ok.

And he told me that one day, when he was finally able to, he would hold me, and I could let it all go, and I could cry, and shake, and tell him all the things that scare me, and all the ways I never feel good enough, and he'd swear never to let me go, and that he'd keep it all a secret for me, and never tell anyone I'm just another scared little kid with a broken heart.

One day I will hold that boy to his promise...

Sick

I am sick of looking forward to getting home, only to remember why I hate being here once I get in.
I am sick of spending every night coughing and hacking my lungs up because I live in a house of smokers.
I am sick of the fact that even with my fucked up sense of smell, I hate the smell of smoke that pervades everything here.
I am sick of having to play nice for the sake of a simple life.
I am sick of the fact that I am only here by the grace of my friend, and that I can't afford to pay my own way.
I am sick of needing to rely on my friend for a simple roof of my head and food in my stomach.
I am sick of it constantly being freezing cold because the sash windows seemingly must be fully open all the time, leaving several good 3'x3' holes in the house.
I am sick of coming home to find the kitchen flooded, or my clothes soaked because it rained and someone couldn't be bothered to close the windows before they went out.
I am sick of never knowing what food there will be to cook with.
I am sick of whatever I buy disappearing before I have a chance to use it.
I am sick of having to factor in 30 minutes cleaning the kitchen before I can start making dinner, every single time
I am sick of having to devise my meals around what food remains, what space there is in the kitchen, and what happens to be clean.
I am sick of every time I do bother to tidy, it's back to the state it was within 24 hours at most.
I am sick of the cost of spending all day in coffee-shops, simply because it means I don't have to be in my house
I am sick of never knowing where I'm sleeping.
I am sick of never knowing who else is going to be staying here, of never even being asked so much if I mind
I am sick of operating a hostel for all and sundry when we already have 4 people in a 2 bedroom place.
I am sick of why one person almost always gets the bed, seemingly down to the sole fact that he moved his boyfriend in without asking and it became 'his' room.
I am sick of not having a proper space to call my own.
I am sick of the fact that the small corner I eked out for myself, by clearing other stuff , that no-one was using, I was asked to move before it had even been there a week.
I am sick of every time I leave it, coming back to find my keyboard, monitor, and speakers covered in cigarette ash.
I am sick of trying to fix any of this, or improve it, or tidy, or throw stuff out, or sort through it.
I am sick of taking regular 12 mile walks or making sure I come home so exhausted that I go straight to bed, just so that I don't end up physically hurting someone.
I am sick of keeping it all in and pretending this doesn't bother me.
I am sick of wasting my breath when nothing ever changes.

That's what makes you beautiful...

That whilst I'm talking to you, you're silently mouthing "I love you" at me for an hour.
Acting silly to make me smile.
Remembering dumb stuff like me checking up on you whilst you're ill and I'm half asleep and it meaning a lot to you.

14376 :)

About a boy...

When you find a boy who...

• In his mid 20s, will still play 'yellow car' with you out in public
• Can sit in the room playing completely separate video games for hours on end and still consider it spending time together
• Will curl up on a sofa for a nap in the middle of the afternoon with you, even its its a little cramped, and a little warm being so close, just so you can hold each other.
• Loves to cook for you, and loves having you cook for him
• Uses grindr to send you little things that tell you he loves you.

...
Never let them go :)

A letter to the one who slipped away

So without going into huge amounts of detail, most of the people who read this blog seem to have an idea of what's going on, so I don't think it'll fuck things up too much to post this now.  Of course I could be wrong....


So for the last 6 months or so, a lot of my close friends have conspired against me, to bring a boy that I'm in love with to see me as a surprise visit.  They put themselves out, excused themselves from situations, created distractions to fool me, kept their mouths shut through being drunk and high, and did all sorts of crazy things to do this for me.  And I was a bastard and I found out 6 weeks ago.  Even to the point I knew exactly what flight he was on and had the airport live departures board open on my phone the night he flew here so I could text him "I love you" just as he was boarding.  And like the devil I am I said nothing and let you all conspire and think you were fooling me and play your little games.  You were all so mad I knew.  I made a very good, very polite, friend yell out "LITTLE SHIT".

Thank you.  I love you all for it.  Perhaps not as much as I love him.  But from what lots of you have told me, it was worth all your scheming just to see the smile on my face when I'm with him.  It's one of the sweetest things any guy, or group of friends has ever done for me, it's something I never would expected, and I never would have guessed it had I not found out from my own devious machinations.  I'm genuinely a little bit sorry I knew, because yet, it would have been an amazing surprise.  But even knowing, it was an incredible thing for you all to do for me, for so many of you to work together, for so long, in so many ways, just so I could hold a boy in my arms, and get to tell him I love him one more time; so I didn't have to wait quite so long again.

That's twice this year I have been forced to stop, been stunned and shocked by the generosity, understanding, and love of my friends, so much that a simple "you're awesome" to your faces wont cover it.  I hope one day I can do the same for all of you in some way.

Fear is the mind killer

So the other day I had a panic attack.

They don't happen that often thankfully; I know what tends to induce them and generally avoid those situations, but sometimes they can't be helped.  Sometimes they're induced without warning during a depressive episode and I can't do anything about them.  But I get them in other ways too; often they're related to social situations.

It's a point where the impressive amount of confidence I generally manage to exude completely falters, because it's not confidence in the slightest: it's all bravado, a lot of it, that actively overcompensates.  And okay it does it well cause most of you assume I can get what I want easy and that I know what I'm doing.  But as I say, it's all a lie.

One thing that really sets it off, and was the thing to set it off the other day, is being on my own in social situations.  As an only child I need alone time, but it also means I'm less good in social situations.  I don't necessarily need to BE with a friend all the time, but I need to know where they are, and have at least some vague sense of how long I'm going to have to fend for myself.  I don't do well by myself, I tend to stand in the corner awkwardly.  Even if I've been introduced to a group of people, I'm not good with people I don't feel I know well and am comfortable with.  I'm never sure if they actually like me, or are just being nice and saying hi because my friend is there.  I need someone else to initiate the conversation.  I need to be introduced to people first.  I'm not good at jumping in and putting myself out there.  It's something I'm aware of, and I'm trying to work on, but for reasons I'll go into in the next paragraph, I have to take it in almost imperceptibly small steps.

If I end up on my own for any length of time, for whatever reason - maybe the friend I was with bumped into someone they know on the way back from the toilet and got talking to them - and being 'on my own' might be hanging out with a group of people I just met that night, but am too socially awkward to actually interact with of my own volition, that's when the panic attack sets in.  At first I just get a little paranoid and agitated, with my conscious thought constantly wondering where my friend(s) is/are.  This steadily builds up and after 5-10 minutes I'm constantly looking around hoping I spot them coming round the corner.  My breathing starts to pick up and my heart rate increases to match.  Around the 15 minute mark I get into real problems - by this point I am very paranoid, very anxious and trying to stop myself from hyperventilating and throwing myself into a full blown asthma attack as a result.  My muscles shake but as I try and keep myself vaguely composed so as not to draw attention to myself and end up being 'the guy who had the freak out' I end up unable to move, and unable to speak except very quietly, because anything more than that and I'll lose control and the panic attack will completely take me over.  And when the whole deal is I'm feeling uncomfortable in social situations, having a panic attack in the middle of one is rather obviously the worst thing I can do to make me feel any better about anything.  Of course this then means that I can't even then go wander around to FIND my friend(s), or realistically ask someone else to go find them and impress upon them the importance of finding them and quickly without going into detail about the situation, and explaining such would make me lose control and I'd end up freaking out publicly.  Catch-22

Eventually, when the friend does inevitably turn up, and I manage to calm myself down, or tell them what's happened and get them to calm me down, my entire body then hurts, as the effect of the strain on my muscles from where they were involuntarily shaking in panic that I was forcibly keeping as still as possible so as not to draw attention to myself suddenly hits as the feeling anxiety stops taking up all of my conscious thought process and allows me to become actively aware of the world around me.

The person who had to deal with my panic attack earlier this week had no idea about this aspect of me, nor should he have, I've probably told the above to all of 3 people in my life before, and maybe another 3 have worked it out through their ability to read people's emotions and mental processes without being told them.  Again, the bravado-as-confidence that I normally display in abundance is designed to hide all this.  So the fact that most people, even most of my closest friends, probably didn't know quite how bad I could get until they read this post is really just testament to how convincing I am with the impression of myself I intend to project, and for you to see, versus what's actually going on inside me.


And on highly related note, this is why I am nowhere near as good at getting boys/sex/etc as so many of you actually think I am.  It involves putting myself in a situation, with someone I don't really know, or don't know how they're going to react to the prospect of a date or fuck, and even with a friend beside you, that's something you're effectively doing on your own.  I find it almost impossible to pick up guys when I'm out - It's a crippling and paralyzing level of fear for me to go up to a boy and try and talk to him.  I've been granted some modicum of grace by the internet, where you can idly message someone on grindr with a 'hey' or cruise someone on an online profile or whatever - I still get that painful stab of rejection when they largely don't reply, but it's at least something.  I am not good at all at making the first move.  Once a dialogue has been established, I'm fine, but that initial contact, that putting yourself out there, that making the first move; it's almost impossible for me.  This is why I love the US.  American boys and girls are so much happier and willing to make the first move, and culturally, it's not met with as much suspicion and hostility as a stranger coming up to you and saying hi is in the UK.  Americans are a lot shier when it comes to full on flirtation or sexual issues, but that's the bit I am good at, and I am confident at, so it balances out well.  And of course once they start talking to me, they hear I'm British and it all goes Love Actually and group sex instantly happens.