Yesterday after just over a year of self-doubt and internalizing my fears, I took the first step to healing myself. I searched on the Internet and called up and talked to a counselor. This was a huge step for me as I have always been in control of my body and my health and for me to call up someone else was admitting that I needed help. Even if it was just talking about my fears, it was a big relief for me to be able to finally come to terms with what had happened to to be able to talk to someone without judgment. It was like all this emotion had been building up inside a dam the entire time, and for the first time, a little gate was able to be open and the waters that pushed through were overwhelming.
Laura seemed to understand where I was coming from. I can’t thank her enough for her listening and emphasizing did more for me in five minutes than an entire year of fear and self-loathing.
The thing is, I don’t loathe myself, I love myself, but for that one mistake I did, I put everything in risk and I sit here and wonder what happened to my second chance. Doesn’t everybody get a second chance?
These days, I’ve taken to removing physically the white patches on the side of my tongue to the point where if I was an objective person and was looking at myself through the eyes of another, I would be inclined to suggest it is self-mutilation.
When there are no symptoms, I can walk around all day and forget about HIV. It is when the symptoms appear again that I find myself inside a vicious cycle of fear, irrationality and hatred.
I think if I count the number of times I run to the mirror each day just to look at my tongue to see whether the signs of oral hairy leukoplakia have arrived, you’d all be shocked.
And the thing is, I hate what this fear has done to me. I’m not this person and I don’t want to be this person. I feel like I’ve lost a big part of me to be happy and carefree, and I hate that I am sitting here writing about this. I feel like such a coward.