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I'd been HIV positive for six years when I was suddenly
made redundant from my job. 'Yippee', I thought - three months pay with
no work to do. I was sick of my job anyway and this was the perfect excuse
I needed to do something different.
I have to admit that I also saw it as an opportunity to live the life
of some of my HIV positive friends who didn't work. Since moving to London
three years ago and having the opportunity to be much more open about
my HIV status, I'd noticed that lots of HIV positive gay men had quite
'easy' lives on benefits. I guess I was a little jealous that I had to
get home to bed on Sunday nights, while they were on their way out for
even more clubbing.
At first, unemployed life was great. Plenty of cash, lots of time to spend
cruising on the internet or going to the gym, no bosses to nag me. I didn't
have to wear a suit, and I could stay out as long as I liked. However,
I soon found myself distanced from my working friends with nothing in
common. I began to feel as if I was not a real contributing member of
society any more. Oddly, the thing I missed most was looking forward to
the weekend on Friday afternoon and a drink after work to herald the start
of my weekend. I had lost my Friday night!
Trying to get back to work was not so easy either. The employment market
had frozen after the events of September 11. Despite having an Economics
degree, 15 years work experience, and more common sense than most people,
I couldn't even get an interview. I was either too experienced, or my
experience was too specific. I was in my late 30s, still healthy but apparently
unemployable: What was the future for me? I had defined myself so much
in terms of my job and without it I became disillusioned and depressed.
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I began meeting more gay men with HIV living on benefits,
with lots of time on their hands, and gravitated to a life of dossing
around, wasting time andbeing unproductive. The only
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