I know I’m supposed to blog about my views and experiences… but something just happened to me last night and made me think. So instead of pouring my heart out, I’ll ask you guys a question. What kind of reaction do you expect when you tell someone that you are HIV+? To be precise, what are the first words you want to hear from the reciepient of the news? I know what I don’t want to hear and what I don’t want to hear is “Oh? I’m sorry.” I hate that expression with a passion. Which made think about asking you, my fellow Divas, what do you wanna hear? The very first words after disclosure….
tatty2gud's blog
I’m the only person I know who has had more tragedies, and, yes, self pity can sometimes creep in. I was raped by my own family members, I was infected on purpose, one of the times I got raped and fell pregnant, I recently got raped again, my mom thinks I’m an underachiever, the list goes on… but earlier this week when I was dwelling on my unfortunate life…it occurred to me, I have a choice. I can choose to wallow in pity and stay on anti depresants or I can get over it and move on. Not that getting over it is easy, but compared to self pity it’s a breeze. When you throw a pity party you are...
I’m still single and dating has become a nightmare overnight. I used to be comfortable disclosing to my “potentials”, but not anymore. I find myself swinging between “should I?” and “should I not?”. If I don’t, I feel like a liar, and if I do, I risk one more person knowing (and not knowing what they would do with the information is torture). I sometimes wonder whatever happened to the diva in me, since when do I care what people think of my status... oh I know, since I disclosed to “potential” and he had a panic attack and I had to give him CPR! Or maybe it’s since when I came to live home...
I don’t know how other girls like me react to stigma and injustices we suffer because of our statuses. I usually beat myself up. Sometimes, depending on the source of the stigma, I’d loathe myself. But a recent incident opened my eyes to a whole new dimension of reaction. If I am responsible and suffer the consequences of my own actions, why then don’t I let other people do the same? The stigma might be directed to me, buts it’s not about me. It’s about the other person’s ignorance and misinformation, so then why must I punish myself because they are ignorant? It does not make sense at all.
Who am I? My family know me as the Diva, the strongest HIV+ woman they've ever seen. What they don't know is what happens when I switch off the lights and close the door, I suddenly am not so strong anymore. I crumble, I… the real me comes out and the Diva gets to rest. I have buried all the HIV+ women I knew. I feel lonely, scared, abandoned, angry and sometimes confused. I take out my journal and write yet another letter to God. You see, people see the Shero, the Iron lady, the Diva who has everything all together (by everything I mean my ART medication, my job, parenting, helping out...