“Every time an ambulance passed me, I knew that somehow I was next. There was never going to be a way out for me. No matter how hard I prayed, the damage had already been done. Nothing could take away the basket case feeling I had. Every time there was sirens, my heart beat faster, because maybe it was time to eradicate the pandemic that was me. Maybe they were finally done with dealing with people like me. I was paranoid and I can’t blame me for that phase.
Growing up with HIV/AIDS is not easy especially when the environment is not accepting at all. I was born with the virus, so basically it is not my fault but somehow the society looks at me like I’m some biohazard. Its not cool really. Having been the black sheep of the family, it was not hard to know I was always going to be the odd one out of the lot of them. I was the child who was not welcome, I was the child who did not look up unless told to, the child who did nothing in the house, not because I was favored but because I had the virus that was claiming lives. I was in total isolation from my family. Whenever they cooked, I got the left overs and sometimes they intentionally forgot to feed me. After all I was the outcast.
School was no different. My siblings avoided me there too, but I had to survive. The worst part of school was all the time, because they told everyone I was infected. I hated science lessons and health forums because in every talk, there had to be the HIV talk and what to do. Every time snickers would be heard and I would be made fun of. Whenever the teachers mentioned HIV, all heads usually turned to me. The teachers had given up fighting for me. In fact they were the bullies themselves. Someone would think education would open people’s minds, but my teachers were unique. Each time I went to report my bullying, I was ignored, and eventually I gave up.
I was trapped in a cycle. I did not know who to turn to. I did not know any religion because I believed that God was not existent. Because if he existed, I wouldn’t be mistreated the way I was. I only learnt religion because if I failed any test I would be forced to survive on water for a week in the name of killing the virus. I wanted to give up, I felt unwanted,, and even though I was actually unwanted, I just wished someone would care for me. I wanted to go out on the streets, but from the books I read, the streets were harsher than home. So I stayed home. On some occasions I wanted to commit suicide, I can’t count the number of times I intentionally crossed the road when the roads were busy. But every single time I failed, and continued to suffer. I even wanted to cut my wrists but they would know if I failed and I would be beaten up.
I was surviving on the antiretroviral drugs. Taking drugs every time was hard especially since I hated medicine. Not to mention every time I took them I would hear the sounds of ambulances in my head. I was scared of death, I was scared of a lot of things. I was scared of people because the ones I met were mean. And since I was a coward who could not take a life, I had to find a way out. I knew someday I would eventually give up, but until then, my option was staying out of sight. So I sank in my books, got good grades, I literally spent all my time in the library both at home and at school during the breaks. So I learnt all that I could, I read books that helped me understand myself better.
Today, there is a book called “Stigma, Discrimination and living with HIV/AIDS: A Cross-Cultural Perspective” edited by Pranee Liamputtong and published by Springer. I’d encourage you to have a read. Its really an interesting one.
There are people going through experiences like me, people who have nobody to tell their story to, people who don’t really know what tomorrow holds, people cursed by the negative society, people discriminated. And just because there are drugs for the virus, the drugs don’t cure a person’s mental health. They only prolong lives, but it is through positive platforms that we are helped. I had no help rising out, I was hated by literally everyone. I hated myself because everyone hated me, yet somehow I was kept alive despite my suicide attempts. Life never gets easy when you are alone. And living with HIV is definitely not easy, especially when you’ve been forced to hate the sound of ambulances.”
Leave your comments and you guys can also share your experiences. There is always a way out. Lets join hands and fight stigmatization because we may be differently created, but even then we can take care of our fellows and make the society a better place. Alright, until next time, don’t beat yourself up.
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