Plan to track HIV+ Visitors to Sydney, Site of World AIDS Conference

Once again, as people living with HIV, our rights are being eroded. There is a very good possibility that the leg of my trip this summer will have the Australia part canceled. Why? Just read this excerpt:

Plan to track HIV+ Visitors to Sydney, Site of World AIDS Conference

Annabel Stafford, Canberra
May 11, 2007

HIV-POSITIVE visitors to the country could have their movements monitored or be prevented from coming altogether, under policy options being considered by the Government.

Prime Minister John Howard has written to his immigration and health ministers asking them for advice on whether HIV/AIDS poses a public health risk and on the public health implications of letting HIV-positive people into the country.

When Mr Howard said last month that he would consider stopping HIV-positive people coming to the country unless there were humanitarian reasons to let them in, his comments were dismissed by some as populist.

If they go ahead with this, and there is real talk of this, the conference will be moved over to Geneva (yawn). The plan be is then to extend the Africa trip to South Africa and then head back to Geneva.

Yesterday I kept very busy. I’m up really early these days. I first woke up at 6:45, but stayed in bed until 8. I got my place cleaned up, went to a meeting, did some errands and finally headed out to see a movie.

Afterwards, I felt like a child who only wanted to be held and nurtured. Possibly it’s part of starting to feel stuff that I normally compress away in an emotional zip file. It’s not like I felt really emotional or anything, more like knowing that there was this other presence with me.

Emotions do scare me, but it’s not even as much as that. When I last really broke down and wept, and I mean sobbed, was October 21, 2002. You see how good I’m at keeping things in. I was in Aix-en-Province, my former home. I hadn’t been there since I was 19 years old. While walking around I came across the street and address of where I lived. Suddenly I was hit with everything. Here I was, depressed, no dreams, no hope, an escort with no directions and aspirations in life.

The last time I stood on this street, I didn’t have a clue that I’d be facing a deadly illness killing all my friends. I remembered life prior to HIV. For me know, this is a faint memory that now was very clear. To be young, have my entire life ahead of me with such enthusiasm. Suddenly I was hit with, “What the fuck happened to my life?” Walking back home, I sobbed and sobbed in the most cathardic way. It was such a release.

Nice, the beach that brought me to where I am today.

This didn’t scare me, in fact it felt good. I got some clarity. Two days later, sitting on the beaches of Nice, I wrote a list of things I was going to do to begin some change in my life.

On to the left of the beaches is a rocky cliff-like area with the foundations of a 9th century church. Up there I was overlooking the beautiful bay. Listening to a newly-bought CD, a song came on. The words were to the effect, “If you just believe, you are halfway there.” I began to cry again. This was it. I simply stopped believing

The place where I began to have hope.

The cycle of getting sick every six-weeks and my viremic state of health completely convinced me, “Is that all that there is?” Just like Peggy Lee. My life was stuck in a place where it was never going to change. My health dragged me to the place of incredible isolations and inability to do anything; learned helplessness had settled in.

But, what if, I dared to believe in the impossible?

Just getting through a day with meetings at that time seemed impossible. Many things I do today, were back then, the impossible

So emotions and connecting the dots are good. Like I said, at an early age I emotionally shut down to cope. When you’ve locked them in and thrown out the key, this is what happens. I began to cry at the AIDS Vigil last summer for the International AIDS Conference. Normally I wouldn’t have gone. Once I felt like I was going to loose it, I had to run away. I could not bare it.

I simply don’t know how to deal with emotions. The analogy I now make, is that I really have two personalities, just like a mild form of split personalities. My private/emotional self, and my public self. My public self has completely taken over burying the private/emotional self to the point where he only comes out every couple of years.

When I speak about emotion, I’m completely disassociated, as if I’m speaking about another person. Just with people with real multiple personalities, this was the means of coping with terrible trauma. And just as with these folks, this is going to take a lot of work.

My homework was to come up with what was it that I wanted to get out of rehab, as this is not my first go around at getting rid of drugs in my life. My goal is not only to start to reconnect with the private/emotional self, but also allow others to see him, or should I say, me.