I Want Your Sex

One of my darkest secrets, which I guess isn't a secret now that I'm discussing it on the net, was one of my darkest moments of my life.
I'm talking about my addiction to sex.
Sexual addiction is something that is not usually spoken about or lumped in the categories of other addictions such as drug and alcohol. There are those who think it would be great to have a sex addiction and why complain about something where you can have casual sex with no strings attached.
To start off I never knew I had a sex addiction. I just thought at a young age I was expressing my sexual freedom. I felt it was just my hormones were raging and like other young men who  were exploring what it meant to be gay and what was my identity. I grew up like other LGBT youth and learned about sex from porno magazines, hearing the experiences from other gay friends and older men who saw a young buck in the headlights and introduced me to something I wasn't ready for yet. It wasn't a class taught in school or something you discussed at the dinner table.
As a former victim of sexual abuse as a child I was introduced to sex at a young age. From my experience I thought that by the process of giving of my body was a form of being accepted and also a way to say hello. This acceptance and the combination of low-self esteem lead me down to the path of believing that casual sex was the only way I could make myself valued and visible. Even later when I was diagnosed as HIV positive I still placed myself at risk by having risky sex with strangers. We're talking about book stores, video stores, groups and the worst enemy of all the, internet which opened a whole world of meeting strangers. I say strangers because if I had to list the names of people who had sex with me it would be impossible. At that time I didn't care. I just needed my fix.
I knew something was wrong when it seemed that I was no longer in control of my urges. I would be at work and this wave of anxiety would sweep over me. I would literally shake like a junkie coming of of their high. Against company policy I would use my computer to set up an encounter. Something that if I was caught doing I could lose my job, but at that moment I didn't care. I just needed something or somebody to release my urge. I would be asleep and it would hit me at 3 in the morning or I was stuck in the house alone because of bad weather outside, I had to have my drug.I wouldn't classify it as being horny but literally an imbalance in my thinking and thought process. It was like I needed to get out there and find my drug dealer to take care of my fix. The reason I knew something was wrong is because sex should be a wonderful bonding experience between two people, but for me it was cold and empty and I always walked away with guilt, telling myself afterward I would never do it again.
But then like before I would break my affirmations and in it's place give excuses of my actions. And the cycle of guilt and shame like clockwork would be right there waiting for me to get off the train.
Existing in the gay community didn't help as unfortunately in many cases when it comes to media representation of the gay life, the visual images of the gay environment, whether it's marketing material, nightlife advertisement and even ads for cruises, there's always someone with their shirt off and a indirect eroticism of the gay lifestyle which made you think that's what you're supposed to be.
I finally got tired of feeling guilty and breaking promises to myself. I was sick and instead of seeing a doctor I tried to come up with my own homemade remedies but the cold turkey act never helped. I needed help.
The first part of the help was acknowledging that I had a problem. The second form was seeking a therapist and learning what I was going through. Not surprisingly it was all tied to my year of sexual abuse as a child and my feeling that I always had to please someone. I recognized that I was placing myself last, even during sex it was never about my pleasure but the pleasure of someone else.
During this period I even tried to be in several relationships, but how can you be in a healthy relationship with someone when you don't even know how to relate to yourself.
And that's where my healing began. I had to learn to love myself. I had to learn to find my own value and worth. When we're born we're born with wings but as we grow forces come along and pluck off our feathers until you're at that point where you feel you can't fly any longer. But we all have that power to fly and we all have to rediscover our wings to do so. Sometimes we treat our clothes or other material items better than we treat our bodies, but we have to flip the script. Sex should be beautiful but when it makes you feel ugly, then "Houston we have a problem."
I'm flying again but not in a space where I'm above or better than anyone, but I know that I have a greater sense of self and that's where it all begins, self.  

Holiday!

Who doesn't love a holiday. The word itself makes you conjures images of relaxing on a beach or a day off of work lounging at home with a good book or a remote control in hand. Depending on the day itself it can be a day of remembrance or a gathering of friends and family. And to show my age the word Holiday is considered one of Madonna's early hits.
But for me holiday had a different meaning, one that affected my life and not in a good way. For those not up on the lingo, the term holiday as it refers to HIV, is when you give yourself a break from taking your medication. It might just be one dosage, it might be a couple of days or even a few months. But there's no such thing as a free holiday and you ultimately pay a price.
I learned this two years ago when I took my medication only when the mood hit me.
Being positive for 24 years, you just hit that point where you are tired of swallowing pills that may get stuck in your throat or going through the act itself of dispensing each one out of their bottles into your hands. My pharmacist who's a good guy tries to push the pill box on me. The box where you just place them in each dated spot. For me those boxes represent something that seniors use in nursing homes. I didn't want to be associated with that. 
I started to come up with excuse of why I wasn't going to take my pills for a particular day, "I'm undetectable so I can miss tonight's dosage" "I'll take extra in the morning" "I've worked hard all day and don't have the energy" "I'm going to give my body a cleansing"
I'm sure there's more as I had every excuse in the book. But the excuses didn't mean beans when I was told by my doctor that my body had become resistant to all HIV medication.
Good news I didn't have to worry about taking any meds, because it would be a waste of time. Bad news, by me starting and stopping my medication I allowed the HIV virus to strengthen up the their army and beat down my wall of resistance.
Initially there was some joy knowing I wouldn't have to take anymore pills but when I was told that my t-cells had dropped from the six hundred range to 54 I was scared. And there was no second chance of taking my restarting my old regiment of meds. I was now on an extended holiday and each day I was at-risk of catching an illness that my body wouldn't be able to fend off. Damn those holiday.
A nurse once told me a long time ago when I was complaining about the size of my pills, "If it's saving your life stop bitching". Her words came back, ringing in my ear. Eventually there was a study of several new drugs and after swimming in the waters of uncertainty a life preserver was thrown to me. I was given a second chance.
Since then I unpacked my bags and got back to work. Of course like everything in life there's a lesson. When it comes to taking your meds, don't half do it. Either stop completely or take them completely. And again as the nurse said, if it's going to save your life....
People who practice unsafe sex and think taking a pill is a walk in the park let me tell you it's no holiday. Shoulda, coulda, woulda-when it comes to your life you should think twice about the holidays as you'll be here to enjoy the real calendar holidays. The virus is already attacking you, don't help it but hurt its chances and reclaim your life!

Fighting the Blues

Riding the subway I'm looking at the empty subway seat across from me and it says, "Please give seat to  people with disabilities". The word that struck me was disabilities. What struck me is that not all disabilities are visible. I'm talking about mental illness.
Growing up it seemed there was a pill for anything, whether you had a headache, a bruised arm or a cut on your finger. Yet if you felt like you didn't want to get out of bed or that you were in a 'funk' the remedy back then in our house was simply, "God will take care of that". When I was gay my mother at the time thought that gay was a sickness so she prayed hard for "God to take of that" so that I would be normal.
As the saying goes there are none so blind who refuses to see.
To get to a place of wellness, whether you have HIV or not, we have to recognize that we all suffer from some form of mental illness and although God does take of things, he also placed psychologists here for a reason. Growing up as a young gay black man I can only share my viewpoint. To me it seems that when it come to being treated for depression or any other mental health illnesses, we refuse to see a specialist. Especially when we know that we're not our usual self. But I'll admit when I fought my first bout of depression I was reluctant to go see a doctor because I didn't want a stranger knowing my business. Especially knowing that I was in the closet,  I was scared they would tell someone. I also didn't want to take any pills. Not because of the Tuskegee experiment, of which a lot of my people use as their excuse, sometimes not even knowing what it was or how to spell it, my reluctance was the pills making me feel like a zombie. Trust me you only feel that way until your body adjust to them. The last reason is that I didn't want people to think that by seeing a psychologist it meant I was crazy. Or as we say "Coco for coconuts". I didn't want to be stigmatized.
But I took that chance because I wanted to be myself again and I wanted to not be stuck in the mud, my wheels turning and not going anywhere. I wanted to live. I wanted to face the fears that was holding me back. No matter what it took, I wanted to my life back!
Another misconception of a mental illness is that people feel if they talk to a psychologist it will go away or if they take a pill the problem will be solved. The truth is that it's two parts. The other parts is facing the demons in your past and finally burying them. Whether it was a previous child abuse; both physical and mental, neglect and for my brotha's and sista's, living in a racist country, fighting that daily battle wears your mental health down. Add sexuality and it's a perfect recipe for depression especially if you have no support system.
But again you have to be honest with yourself. You have to look in the mirror and strip yourself of the clothes of self-doubt that society or family has placed on you to discover who you are. You're not on this earth alone. You may feel like it but trust me you're not. You have to put your gloves on and prepare to fight the good fight. Believe me the prize is so worthy! And yes through the years the feeling you thought were gone may reappear and it's just a sign you need a tune-up. We do it for our cars, our we not as worthy.
Worthy.
I fought my demons and by doing so I found my worth!

Bucket List

Usually when you think about bucket lists you think about all the things you 
want to do before you die. From the day we're born we all have a clock ticking counting down 

to our last days on the earth. When I was first diagnosed at a young age of 18 I 
started to work on my list with the thinking I had a shorter time. 

Now 24 years later I had to revisit that list and 
look at the life I was living today. Now that it was obvious I wasn't going anywhere soon.

No matter what your health status is we sometimes hit a point when we stop living and we start getting 

comfortable. We stop chasing our dreams for many reasons which may be health, family 
responsibility or complacency. 
We forget to push ourselves because we know that pushing requires change and 
change is walking in a land of the unknown which can be scary. 
I choose to walk into that forest of the unknown and shake my life up. 
I did this by creating a different version of a bucket list. One that doesn't 
require me to wait until I'm close to death but a list of fifty things I want to 
do in the next three years.

I focused on four categories, place to travel, things I want to experience, changes in my health

and self reflections.

 It's intimidating at first,  how do I make a list 
when I don't even know what I'm wearing for tomorrow. But believe me once you start the list your
ideas flow.

Since starting my list I started to cross items off.

 And each item checked was a affirmation of the growth I was experiencing. I saw myself doing things 
that I thought I would never do. 
I learned how to swim. Something I never did in my life.
I traveled to places that I always wanted to visit such as Italy, Germany, New Orleans and such.

 I made it a goal to touch all the waters that surrounded the states and made it so.
On my list was to stop eating at fast food places and drink water everyday.

Now that  was hard as I loved my Popeye's but my Popeye's was slowly killing me. 
Instantly I noticed the difference as well as others asking how did I dropped the weight. 
I made a commitment to start attending a church, the most rewarding goal on my list. 
I started to learn Spanish and Italian and can speak both not excellent yet but 
on my way. 
I won't list the rest but in reflection I made a promise to start living my life for me and not for others. I 
made a promise to myself that my life was going to be the way I want it to be. I 
no longer was going to audition for people. I was going to be free.  
I still have a year and a half to finish out my contract but looking forward

to the new challenges and experiences. 

I let other things such as my status and the opinions of others hold me back, but no longer. 

I'm reclaiming my life!!

Long Distance Online Mis-Relationship

I met Phil in the AOL chat room.
We're going back to a time when there was no high speed dial-up and AOL was a big player in the internet realm. The young people of today don't know about the modem and the screeching sound it made as it connected you to the internet. I also think that's why the older generation is so patient because with a modem, pages didn't load right away. You had to wait and wait and wait. Sometimes depending on how old your computer was you could go to a page and while it was loading go get a drink of water from the kitchen, make a sandwich and see what was good on television.
There is some exaggeration but it's what it felt like sometimes. The internet also opened doors for those who were gay and didn't have means of meeting others. It was a fun place, a dangerous place, a place where you can find love, a place where you can find trouble if that's what you 're looking for. It was called the AOL chat room.Whatever you were looking for was waiting for you in that chat room.
I won't lie, before I got into a relationship you could go in the room and meet men or whoever you were into and for me it opened the doors to instant sex.Sex with strangers. It sometimes felt like ordering food. You could either have it delivered, where they come to you or do take-out where you go to them.and sometimes the only thing you knew about them was their screen name and whatever made-up name they gave you before you got it on. When's the last time you asked your deliveryman what his last name was?
That's how I met Phil.
The great thing about the chat room is that you could meet people from all over the world and Phil was from the south. Having him far away was great in the beginning as we got to learn about each other through chat-eventually we started talking on the phone. His southern drawl pulled me in. it was so different than the other contact as I was getting to know this person and it wasn't about sex. We really hit it off in the conversations.And I knew his last name!
It was months that we talked and he eventually he came up to visit. He could only stay for a weekend but anytime was good as through our online and phone chats I felt a bond with someone I had never met face to face. I saw pictures but it's seeing the real person that made a difference. And he was like his picture and again we had a great time not built on sex but a continuation of the conversations we had.
But I knew we were going to hit that point where if we wanted to be serious one of us had to make that commitment to move. I've always felt that way about long distance relationships, eventually one will have to give their home up. I was younger and more free spirit and he seemed more established so I decided to make the move. So in a week I gave notice at my job. Whatever didn't fit into my car I gave away.Said my goodbyes and made my way on the highway to Houston and a new life.
I moved to Houston in March so I was naive about the weather and the heat. I learned real quick at the end of April what southern heat feels like. It's no joke. You do everything you want before eleven in the morning and after that you were in hell. You would spend the whole summer inside. But I was there with someone I loved..or at least I thought.
There's a big difference between talking to someone on the internet versus moving in with that person, especially when it's their home. Although he told me to make it my home inside I felt like it was still his and I felt like I had to ask permission to do things in the home. Then there was Phil himself. The giddy feeling knowing I was going to talk to him on the phone or internet was gone as we now saw each other everyday. And it didn't help that I started to miss my friends back home as i knew no one in the whole city.
Along with the homesickness, I started to realize, this man would make a great friend but not a lover. I was hypnotized by the online conversations.
It wasn't that he was a bad person but we just didn't have that oooomph. To make it worse he had friends who it seemed I also had to get approval from and some were cool with me but I didn't realize his ex was in his life and that was another thing to deal with as I could tell he couldn't stand me and the feeling was mutual.
It wasn't until one day I woke up and looked around and it was like I came out of a coma. I looked at the bed which felt strange and then over at Phil who was still sleeping and in my head I told myself, "What the fuck am I doing in Houston and who is this?" We both agreed it wasn't what we expected and I was more angry at myself for giving up my life and packing everything that fit into my car and driving back to Minnesota as he continued on with the only disruption is that I was no longer there.
But I had no one to blame as I made a major life decisions on the wanting to be in a relationship. I laugh even today when people complain that they want to be in a relationship, but when they're in one the fantasy of it is not what they expect. It takes work, communication, work, sharing, work, negotiating and more work.
But every relationship just gets you ready for the next and eventually you'll meet that one. For some the internet still serves that purpose and its not all bad but the one thing technology can't replace is the natural chemistry between two people. It's irreplaceable.
Phil taught me that.