Clayton Brown The new age
LIFE AS A GROUPIE
The first thing I did on finding out I was HIV positive back
in January was to get absolutely hammered and drug f***ed. Only when all intoxicating
substances had left my body did I come to my senses; complete hedonism isn’t
the answer. So I decided to seek
support instead.
I took myself to an HIV centre where a therapeutic massage was offered along
with an invitation to have supper with ‘other like-diagnosed individuals.’
Of these three options; massage, dinner and individuals, it was the latter
that annoyed me the most.
Why? Because these people kept telling me how I was feeling without actually
asking me. Either that or they felt a constant need to give me the do’s
and don’ts list of HIV.
I’m sure these strangers meant well but I quickly determined these old-timers
as people I didn’t want to be around. I needed to find those who were
new to HIV, people like myself.
A few days later I was sitting in a self-help group with other newly-diagnosed
(anything up to 12 months) individuals. My understanding of a self-help group
is a forum where individuals can help themselves and others by speaking their
truths. How wrong I was. Here, many felt they were self-helping themselves
by whinging about their HIV. For my part, I left this self-help group feeling
even more helpless.On to the next one. Again, this was not to my liking. This
time the problem was that the group was unstructured and too informal. All
these people sitting around laughing and joking by exchanging
sexual banter; it wasn’t my cup of tea at all. I definitely didn’t
want to join this so-called ‘family’ of HIVers but decided to
make one last stop; a group that targets African-Caribbeans with HIV. Unfortunately
this group was sparse and those few present preferred to talk about anything
and everything other than HIV.
My
mind was now made up; no more contact with HIV groups or centres. I would
do my own thing or get through this alone. Besides, who wants to be around
HIV junkies; people who relish speaking about HIV, or in the company of those
who can’t help speaking negatively about their positive result.
The days began to pass and even though I welcomed freedom from the topic of
HIV or indeed the absence of those others affected,
I became more and more agitated. This feeling intensified, telling me there
was something I had to address. This is what I figured. I was unfair to slag
off people who were obviously trying to help.
I should have appreciated that they probably needed support, just like me.
And when I was in the company of those other newly-diagnosed people, where
did my own compassion go? Were these people (like me) simply trying to come
to terms with their HIV status? Lastly, those people who preferred to joke
and banter instead of talking about HIV were only doing what felt right to
them. Anyway, small talk is supposed to be good for the soul.
It’s true that in the short weeks since finding out I have HIV, my thoughts
and feelings have been in constant flux. Some say I am still in a state of
shock. But even if that’s true, I still have to make some choices (based
on fact) and this includes banishing drink and drugs. I’ve heard it
said that, in the past, many people diagnosed with HIV believed they were
going to die and therefore shunned support,
perhaps fearing to allow others to get too close if death was on the cards.
In neglecting their emotional needs they may well have neglected their bodies.
Perhaps this is why some are no longer with us, having dug themselves an early
grave by way of isolation. But in this country we are extremely fortunate.
There are many HIV groups that offer counselling, welfare advice and help
with housing. My take is that these groups exist so individuals with HIV can
get back to being productive. Therefore it does not show weakness to take
advantage of these groups, but strength. This was a strength I failed to notice
in all the people at the various groups I attended. And this is a strength
that can help me, too.
