One person’s decision to live honestly … with HIV

One person’s decision to live honestly … with HIV

Today is World AIDS Day. Today is also Day Without Art. And
today is the day on which one UCLA student has chosen to tell the
world for the first time about his HIV-positive status, as
frightening as this process can be.

But he is not alone. As many as one out of 500 college students
is HIV-positive, according to the Center for Disease Control.
Because of these statistics, but more importantly, because it’s
easy to forget that these numbers translate into the lives of
individuals, we must become more aware of AIDS and its
implications.

By Sheldon Allen

I’m 22 years old and I’m graduating this spring.

About a year and a half ago, I found out that I am HIV-positive.
But I didn’t really start dealing with it until a couple of months
later.

Until that time, I was pretty much in denial, ignoring my
diagnosis, pretending everything was OK … except when I would try
to fall asleep. All I could think about then was getting sick and
dying. I could not shake these visions of myself in a hospital bed,
my little brother coming to visit, me wasting away with AIDS.

Things started to turn around when I started talking about my
fears. The first time was when I attended a support group with
about six other people who have HIV: gay guys, straight guys,
straight women, yet no lesbians ­ not in my group, although
they get the disease, too. All kinds of ethnicities and ages.

In this group, I let myself break down in front of other people.
I couldn’t hold back anymore, and it just all came out of me.

I told them all how afraid I was … of AIDS, of dying, of my
brother and the rest of my family seeing me sick. And some of them
started crying, too. They could, of course, totally relate to these
feelings I was having, because they’d all felt them themselves.

The group facilitator let me bawl as much as I needed ­
this is something I believe everybody has to do, sooner or later
­ and then she gave me the ultimate ultimatum by telling me,
"You are going to have to make a decision. Are you going to live,
or are you going to die?"

Somehow, I understood what she meant immediately. Up until this
point, I was only seeing myself as sick and dying. I saw HIV as a
death sentence. I figured my life was over, that everything I did I
was doing in vain, even though I would pretend to everyone else
that everything was OK.

But then she said this, and I didn’t have to think about it. I
knew what I wanted to do. And from that point on, I have been
challenging the media-hyped notion that HIV=AIDS=DEATH.

The facts are these: Most people with HIV have died of AIDS.
Some people do not die: They’ve been infected since the epidemic
began, but they do not show any symptoms. Many people with HIV live
happy and productive lives for however long, full of love and
strength.

I belong to the latter group.

When I first told my friends, I could see it in their eyes and
sometimes they even say it: When they look at me, they see me dying
right in front of them. It takes time to convince them to let that
kind of thinking go. I need their support and their positivity, not
their pity.

That’s the main reason I haven’t been more open about my
infection with people.

I don’t want to bother with their tears, whether they show them
to me or not. I listen to their fears, though ­ they need to
be heard, too ­ and this can be very draining for me
sometimes.

This is also the reason that nobody in my family knows I have
HIV: I don’t want to deal with their visions of me dying, let alone
to deal with their disappointment in me for contracting the
disease.

I get all the support I need now.

My closest friends know, and they know how to support me. They
listen when I do get afraid, and they don’t patronize me with
"Don’t worry. Everything will be OK." Nor do they look at me with
those "you are dying" eyes. We are honest about the possibility
that I will get sick with one opportunistic infection or another,
and we talk about that. But we don’t obsess about it. We
concentrate on living. Especially my best friend; she too has
gained a new appreciation for life.

She also knows my philosophy about my status: I do what I can
do, I take advantage of the different treatments that are
available, I eat well (and a lot), I get enough sleep and plenty of
exercise. I do all this, and then I go on with the rest of my
life.

I do what I can, and then let go.

That I can do all these things in the way of caring for myself
is a real privilege. I think to myself that of all the HIV-positive
people in the world, I must be one of the luckiest. I am a
22-year-old white male in southern California studying at UCLA with
good friends.

So many people with HIV live in parts of the world or parts of
the country that do not have access to the kinds of things that I
do that would enhance their lives. I think about how Africa is
being devastated by this disease, and how Asia is next. Many of the
people in many of the countries in these parts of the world hardly
have a chance: They have neither the education nor the means to
defend themselves against the virus, whether they are infected yet
or not.

The situation definitely feels overwhelming, if not hopeless,
but that attitude won’t get us anywhere. There is much work to be
done, for everyone.

First, don’t get infected. If you do, start taking care of
yourself.

Second, know that this disease is happening right now to people
you love and to people you don’t know. Let these people know that
you are not one of those AIDS-phobic bigots, rather that you care
about what is happening.

One way to show you care is by becoming part of the
solution.

Many AIDS service organizations can use your help, and for some
of them you can just drop in for a few hours, like Project Angel
Food, which prepares and then delivers warm meals to people who
cannot cook for themselves.

Of course, AIDS isn’t the only factor hurting people today
­ all kinds of service organizations depend on volunteers.

Just get involved and be sensitive.

Sheldon Allen is a senior English student. In honor of World
AIDS Day, he will speak today at noon at the Student AIDS vigil in
Schoenberg Quad.