I found a journal in my closet today that's dated from July 2002. Exactly five years ago this month. I serconverted to HIV in April of 2002 which explained why the contents of this notebook were dramatic, fear-laden cries of woe. I'll admit, based on my past personal writings, I have played the Armageddon card to its living end. Was I always such a whiny drama queen? Apparently so.
That's funny- because right before I found the said journal this evening, my mind began to wander to those dark spaces of angst. It's never a good idea for me to entertain such meanderings.
The entries speak for themselves. I can trace the up and down spiral spin that ultimately took place in my life during the past five years. In 2002, I was 28 years old, had just moved back to San Francisco after a sober stint in Dallas, TX and was of course, newly positive. Plus, I was bemoaning the demise of a fling that broke my heart and apparently, based on the hysterical writings, losing my mind.
Direct quote--- date: July 8, 2002
"Of course, those pictures we took made me look like hell and I'm depressed about that but it WAS a disposable camera!
I haven't written since I went crazy last week and slashed 3 of John's tires with a butcher knife that I took from my restaurant job. I have stopped checking his email and voice messages.... I'm struggling so much right now with the possibility that I may deteriorate because of the HIV. I'm 28 years old and I'm looking horrible in these pictures. All I have to keep me afloat is the fantasy that I'm still a movie star. Dr. J told me I could never have the capacity to love someone else as I should until I learn to love myself."
The pages trail on as I relate my sense of disappearing self to the off-Broadway musical Hedwig and the Angry Inch. I was trying to draw conclusions and parallels to my life from the plotlines of John Cameron Mitchell's rock-opera.
The pages repeat the same woebegone malaise
... July 9, 2002 "It's extremely hot here in San Francisco and I am very depressed..."
July 10, 2002 "I just can't see past the immediate future right now. With my HIV diagnosis, I don't dare dream of a future because it's so uncertain... I've got to find myself the way Hedwig finally found herself..."
Can you believe that drivel? Just yesterday, I was re-writing my little bio on my My Space page and I seem to recall saying something about a future or lack thereof in my neat little summation of my present state of mind-- Five years into HIV and all. I have hard evidence here that my personal emotional development and maturity has seemingly been rotating on a Ferris wheel without significant advancement. Or has it not? I did dip into a little depression and fear of the future this evening, but on the other hand, I don't feel as off-balance and fragile as the 2002 entries suggest. After all I am five years older and wiser and have certainly grown used to living with HIV. The deal is--- five years ago, I was on the cusp of discovering a part of myself that I've since adapted into. I am grateful for the lessons that time and age have shown me. I am quite shocked at the point-of-view portrayed in these 2002 jottings. Was I ever that shallow and clueless? Comparing the 2002 writings with the present, it is evident that all of the drama and histrionics boldly underlined with loud, goggle-eyed takes has given way to a sense of peace and lackadaisical outlook on the whole thing. It didn't come overnight- obviously. Here's a blurb dated the 27th of March 2003.
"I have the prescription for those AIDS meds in my bag. I've fought with that inevitability for a year and now it's here. I can't put it off anymore. I don't want to be sick... I feel a sense of doom..."
Oh dear, if I only knew what lay in store for me. Little did my melodramatic muse know at the time, I had barely begun to know real sickness. I read that and say to my old self, "You think you had something to worry about, you whiny bitch-- just wait..."
(I didn't start meds that time or the next time either. I reran the same talk in my head until this past January when I finally hooked up with UCSF's Modified Directly Observed Therapy (MDOT) study. Matt R. watched me take my medication nearly every morning for about 5 months.)
It is actually comforting to read my final thoughts from the 2003 entry. It seems I was beginning to put the whole epic into perspective.
As I continued... "I could really go for a drink right now-- something to get my mind off of this AIDS shit! Forget your troubles, come on, get happy"... by Judy Garland.... And then a drop quote from Bob Fosse's Chicago...
"Just when it seems we're out of dreams, we must move on. Yes, we just move on."
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