Time For a Tune-up

If you own a car you're familiar with a tune-up. Each season or if your car hits a certain mileage point, you bring your car in to change the oil, have the tires checked and get new plugs. The interesting thing about this is that we do this for a car, a material object, yet many of us don't get a mental health tune-up for ourselves.

Speaking from my own experience, I recently had this cloud over me. It seemed to follow me everywhere, maybe dispersing for a day or two but then re-emerging. I just knew I was not my usual self. I was moody. Sometimes I would cry for no reason and overall just feeling like I was on auto-pilot. And it didn't match what was happening for me personally as I was finding success with my school of which I'm seeking an advance degree, and as an actor I was working on TV/movie sets and even played a principle part in a show that aired nationally. So what reason did I have for feeling blue?

In the back of my head I knew I needed someone to talk to as I recognized the symptoms of depression from having it before. I knew it meant seeing a therapist as throughout my years, I've seen several for various length of time. But this time I figured I would self-care by reading inspirational books or writing my feelings down or waiting until it went away. I was going to do whatever I had to do to not see a professional.

Maybe it was the stigma? Maybe it was pride? Maybe I just didn't want to admit I needed help? Yet when really looking at my situation, although I've seen professionals before, I had to ask myself, "What's wrong with getting a tune-up" What's wrong in talking out whatever is holding you back?

We manage our health with our meds and other forms of stress relievers but when it comes to our mental health we don't want to walk through that door. We want to bury our heads and pretend it's not there. For myself I wanted to get my car back into the fast lane. I wanted to get my oil checked and new spark plugs and my tires kicked.

To do that I had to ignore any shame and remind myself that it takes a strong person to look at their demons and confront them and not run away from them. I also had to remind myself that getting a tune-up doesn't mean I'll be seeing someone for years. For me it feels like it'll just be a few months. But its knowing that after those few months I'll be back on the road in a healthy state of mind. 

Maybe that's why we don't seek a tune-up. We know that we're taking out old parts (the past) and replacing it with the new (the future) And for many they don't like change. But just imagine where your life will take you if you shift that car into drive instead of spinning your wheels and never moving, stuck in a rut?

So yes I am seeing a therapist once again, even with all my successes and I have no shame. And even five or ten years down the road I may need another tune-up. But if I can give my car a tune-up then why can’t I? The investment will pay off and I'll be in a better place knowing I'm in motion and I'm driving myself to wellness!

Changing of the Guard

Today I had an adjustment moment of change that took me off guard. I was going to my clinic for my check-up and as I've been going there for the past five years. Whenever I entered I was on auto pilot.
As usual I waved and said hello to the security guard who I knew by first name and proceeded to the elevator with my destination being the third floor. When the door opened and I saw unfamiliar faces at the reception desk, I wondered if I hit the button for the wrong floor. But no it was my floor. Everything from the desk to the furniture was the same; it was the people that were different.
The diva came out in me when they asked for my name and my medical card. What! Show my id. The nerve, where is so and so! But the reality was that so and so had moved on and since this person didn't know me from Adam, I relented and gave up my information.
One of the unfortunate aspect of having HIV for a long period of time is that when it comes to your healthcare, you pick out a place that you feel comfortable going. You start to create relationships. Not just with your doctor but also with the entire staff. It's like a comfort food. You know it will always be there. it makes you feel good to see familiar faces. Yet when staff makes changes and leave for other positions or opportunities, it throws you off balance.
Last year I went through it when the doctor I saw for five years announced to me that he was leaving for an out of state opportunity. a wave of emotions wash over you as you process what you just heard. Outside you're happy for their new adventure, but inside you're screaming, NO!!!! You're my doctor what am I supposed to do now? how can you leave me!
After calming down and realizing it wasn't all about me, he let me know who would be replacing him. Yet at that moment I didn't care how good he was and how highly recommended others felt about his knowledge of HIV. I didn't want to start over with someone new.
Usually I have no problem when it comes to change but when it comes to opening myself and creating a relationship of trust, you don't adjust so easily. Adjusting to a new doctor is never easy. This is the person you shared things that sometimes you don't even tell yourself all in the sake of getting good treatment as a good doctor is never judgmental with the information you share. Yet the truth of the matter is that just like other folks with jobs and careers, they eventually move on. And although they move on you still have your HIV that needs managing so you have to come to that place of acceptance.
Yet breaking up is hard to do especially when you're on the receiving end of the information. You go through denial, then anger, then acceptance. A relationship between you and your doctor is such an intimate aspect of your care and it's understandable why someone like me would be resistance to the changing of the guard. Although they have all your information on file, there's still something about starting over.
Yet I can't stress this enough, it's not personal, it's part of life, people move on. You have to adapt and although it may take awhile, as I can attest, give the new doctor a chance as you still have to manage the one thing that hasn't change, your HIV status.
Since the time he left, several nurses who I was also on a first name basis left months later and like before you have a sense of sadness but wish them well in their new ventures.
It's been a year now and the doctor I'm seeing has passed the test, so I'm open and honest with him with all details of my life as it's the only way you can get adequate care. I knew that no matter how I felt about the new guy, by not giving him the full story, even if it sounded like I was repeating myself, it ultimately came down to my health.
After 25 years of having this virus, I've been through several doctors so you’d think I wouldn't have any separation anxiety. But I'm only human and I do. And I know that the doctor I'm seeing now will eventually move on and it's that knowing that will make the change so much easier to swallow!

Running To Sobriety

"They tried to make me go to rehab, I said, "no, no, no"
Unfortunately for Amy Winehouse that decision cost her her life along with the monkey on her back as she battled her addiction to drugs. Although Amy was not gay she reminded me of something that many people go through. The fight to stay sober. Most write them off as addicts or crackheads. Not realizing that for many they face a fight that, for the person outside, we may judge or dismiss as having no value, yet for those living with drug addiction it's a battle with demons that are not easily destroyed.
And for those living with HIV it's more of an issue as you're adding another element to your battle.
I have personally never had that battle but I've been witness to those who have. Friends with HIV and also drug or alcohol addition and their struggle to reach up and get out, only sometimes to get sucked back in.
Although it was not my shoes that was in the struggle, my heart was there with the people who had to take each day one by one, working their way to a place where the drugs was buried underneath their renewed dreams. And most impressive was knowing that the cloud of HIV still hovered over their head, yet they still saw a promised life.
One person who has inspired me is a man living with HIV and who took the steps to fight his addiction to meth.
His name is Simply Rob
A name he goes under as he spreads his words of wisdom through the power of spoken word here in NYC. He freely talks about his past and weaves it in a poetic blanket that he shares with anyone willing to listen.
When talking real talk about his fight with meth, he brings awareness to his story as he describes an incident, one of many:
"I can think of a few instances when I should have died while I was getting high on Crystal Meth. The first being when I shot up with Crystal Meth for the first time. I felt a warm tingling sensation crawl up my left arm, into my chest and when it hit my heart I felt as if I had been kicked so hard that it knocked the wind out of me. I couldn't breath. I remember thinking I'm going to die, then leaning back in my seat in preparation to pass on"    Simply Rob
That first time led to a fifteen year battle in addition to the 18 years of being diagnosed with HIV.
I personally don't know what I would have done. Especially knowing that 18 years ago I was in the closet about my status. What would my addiction have looked like? How could I join a group and only give them half the story or how could I find my way to recovery when the stigma of having HIV would impede my recovery. You could say I'm one of the fortunate ones but for others they have that decision to make.
You are not alone and it bears repeating.
Like Rob there are many others who are either in this battle or in their days or years of recovery. The gift Simply Rob shares is that he's not selfish with his recovery. By sharing his story he lets others know they're not alone.
Right now like last year he's preparing to run his way to sobriety. As part of the NYC Marathon he's chosen an community agency that helped him with his battle, a place that gave him hope. He's not only talking the talk through his poetry, but walking the walk or rather running.
I run up the subway stairs and think I'm going to die, but Simply Rob runs around the city of New York City and feels renewed. And he runs not alone, although when you're struggling with addiction and HIV that's how you feel, alone.
I write to inspire as does Simply Rob, but also I'm taking this time to recognize the unspoken heroes who may feel their steps have no value because of their addiction.
Addition doesn't always equal death, it can also mean life. You just have to run to it and not away from it.
Just Simply ask Rob!
http://www.harlemunited.org/teamharlemunited/runner.php?marathon_date=201111&runners_number=300

When I Discovered I Was Black

My early days of being a child were filled with memories of me running in the field barefoot as we chased fireflies with a ready mason jar. Or swinging on the swing as high as you can trying your best to give God a high five. Better yet, standing in the cool waters of the creek ready to capture tadpoles as they swam past you. That was life for me as a kid growing up in the country of Oklahoma. It was such a different life of no worries, no stress, no having to go into work. It was all about being a kid and enjoying all the things the world had to offer you.
I never saw myself as a black kid. In fact I never associated any color to myself. In my mind I was just me, Aundaray. The concept of race had yet to come and make a visit.
If I had to think of anything associated to race or better yet my first experience, it was when I was at a stop sign with a car waiting for me to cross. I started to pass and as I did the car jerked as if to hit me. I looked at the driver and in my innocence thinking he slipped accidentally on the brake. Yet he wore a smile. Was that smile an acknowledgement of his action? He waved me to continue and as I did it happened again. He jerked the car as if to hit me. His smile was replaced by a laugh as he peeled off.
Even though he was white, I didn't reason his race into his actions. In my child way of thinking I just thought he was just being mean.
I learned I was black when our family moved to Minnesota when I was 10.
This was during the 70's and Minnesota then was 99.1% white and where I came from I saw people who looked like me as opposed to Minnesota where it seemed I was the 'other'
I slowly started to learn of race when I was in grade school at Phalen Lake. I can honestly say I was the only black kid at the time in the whole building. Yet still I thought I was the same as everyone else until one day when we were in the hallway lined up, instead of holding my pencil in my hand I placed it in my afro.
At that time, Micheal Jackson had his cartoon show and I wanted to have a big afro like he did. I don't think the kids at Phalen Lake looked at the same show because the minute I stuck the pencil in my afro, panic spread around me. The kids were looking at me terrified, amazed, scared and confused as they thought I was sticking a pencil into my head.
They formed around me and asked me to do it again. Like the man in the car, I did what they suggested and I'll never forget the screams of wonderment and even a scream of fear as this one girl shot down the hall getting as far from me as she could.
Even then I didn't think of race, but I started to learn about difference.
There's a point when young black kids move from the cute, "I want to pinch your cheek' phase to the "I see you as a threat' point of their life. It's a subtle shift that is not the same for everyone.
It was clear I made that transition when I started to be called 'nigger' as a carload of people drove by. Or when I walked down the street and being blinded by the lights of the cops flashlight as it shone directly on me as they slowly drove by. Or when I started to get pulled over numerous times for headlights that seemed to work even though the cops swore it wasn't a minute ago, or to have people clutched in the corner of the elevator as they rode down with me.
I was no longer living in a colorless world but one of color.
I started to see color. I was indoctrinated into the institution of what we call racism.
Now let's add HIV onto the plate and there's even room on the side for gay. Yet these are secondary because I don't have the luxury of walking out of my door identifying what's on the side of my plate. When I walk out the door I'm always identified by the color of my skin.
Some people of color may not always protect themselves during sex as they feel no value in what has systematically devalued them.
In this fight to reduce HIV the subject of race has to be included as well as any seeking help whether it's treatment of drugs, depression or any other factors that has you seeking social services.
People cannot be colorblind.
Now that I know about race my biggest pet peeve is when people say they don't see color. Now that I've been labeled with this color I recognize it's history, the culture that comes with it, the pain and struggles that extend from it and the contributions that are often quieted. If i had my choice I would want to live in a colorless society yet my eyes were forced open. Now that I know that I'm black I know that if you don't see color, you don't see me.
Maybe that's the problem. 

Brother to Brother

Hey Bro,
I know we haven't had the best relationship growing up and even right now there are still some strained parts. I asked myself why and the truth of the matter is that we just didn't get to know each other.

That's strange as we were raised under the same roof, but there were things about you that I didn't understand as I'm sure you can say the same of me. It's kinda sad as I see other examples of brothers and the closeness they have. Yet that type of knowing each other has eluded us. Most brothers have memories of playing together, going fishing or play fighting.

I think we just fought.

I remember some of those fights. And as we got older I want to say you really changed. You would try to harm me by throwing bricks at me or having me hold a firecracker in my hand promising me it was only the kind that sparkled knowing it was a small explosive. Then in high school you told me not to let other people know i was your brother.

I didn't know why, but even though it hurt, I still did what you said because you were still my big brother. If I had to go back to the most painful memory it was when you saw me walking down the same side of the street you were on and to avoid me you crossed the street and passed me by. I didn't understand.

I started to not see you as a brother but just someone who was another man in the house. I don't know what you saw in me.

Schizophrenia.

When we learned you were diagnosed with it, it still didn't make the clouds go away. If anything it made me more afraid of you. At that time I knew if you had it you were 'crazy'. In a way plenty of the things you did started to make sense.
It was so foreign to me and I was scared I was going to catch it from you if you touched me or shared the same items. I looked at you as if you were a walking disease and I wanted to physically not be close to you. i didn't even know how to spell it but i was glad it was you and not me.

Then I got HIV.

We both now had something that we were struggling with. Yet in my selfish world I wanted you to know what I was going through and what I had. I factored your ignorance of it as simply that, ignorance. I don't know what I was looking for from you but maybe deep inside I was looking for that big brother that was going to let me know it was going to be okay.
Yet I never asked about your struggle. I had placed you on a one way street. I wanted you to read about what I had so we could talk, but I didn't do the same for your condition. I wanted you to put your arms around my shoulder yet I didn't do the same for you. I wanted you to not stigmatize me, but yet I stigmatized you.

I didn't understand.

I'm writing this to say that as we get older, life is to short and not promised and now I have started to understand. Our battle is the same and just because it's described differently it has changed both our lives. But now I understand that if I want that close relationship I have to know the road you travel with your disease and hopefully you'll learn about mine. I finally understand that I can't keep running from you and that you're part of me.

I understand that you're my brother, my big brother, and even though we didn't let the words leave our lips, I do love you. You'll always be my big brother no matter how old we get. And I have faith we can find our way back to each other and not let our condition dictate our relationship. It's a good sign that we're now calling each other because for once I think we want the same thing.

Like the song says, "It's more than you. It's more than me. No matter what we are we are a family"

And just know I'm ending this post but never my love for you.
Sincerely
your little bro

There's an app for that

I was sitting with a friend and he told me about this new guy he hooked up with. I'm asking how they met and he states by the phone. No shit Sherlock I mean really how did you meet? Was it on the street, online in a chat room, doing laundry-what? He laughs and tells me again by the phone and proceeds to pull out his IPhone and shows me an app that alerts him to guys within his current walking distance. We're not talking about four or five guys, we're talking about pages of men looking for something. I don't want to assume it was just for sex but if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck...

Basically for those without a smartphone, this app uses your location based on the GPS on most phones and shows you other men who allow their smartphone to use their current location. It has a chat utility to initiate a real time conversation and from there whatever happens, happens.

To be fair it's not always about sex as some may see it as a form to meet other men for friendship since they themselves don't frequent clubs or other typical 'gay locations' and are looking for something other than a booty call. But on the other side it has the opportunity to allow men to connect for sex which brings me to the question of how do current HIV outreach efforts adapt to this new form of meeting? Especially when the current state of outreach for many agencies are not only keeping up with the times but also the technology on how people meet.

Just by the example my friend showed me, he can be waiting for a bus as the mood hits him or maybe if he didn't get lucky at a club and he's still got a buzz happening, he doesn't have to wait until he gets home, but instead can feed his impulsive nature and make an immediate connection right on the spot he stands.

Looking again at HIV outreach there are some agencies doing amazing work, yet like stated before there are those who take the simple way out and do what every other outreach organization does-go to the clubs. Yet by focusing on just the night clubs, there are so many people missing out on the education or ability to be tested based on the fact that not every gay man goes to the club.

Effective HIV outreach means thinking outside the box and making those connections in the most unlikely places. For instance here in NYC there are tons of free outdoor concerts, some in the hardest hit areas of people infected by HIV such as Harlem. You would think with all the people camping out to get a good spot before the before the concert starts that there could be a mobile HIV testing van on the peripheral to offer a way for people to know their status. Yet as far as I know there is none.

Another idea is to look at training a select group of barbers to at least know how to have a dialogue with their customers on getting tested and providing local resources of where they can get tested. It's a no-brainer that the barbershop is where men go to let their hair down and share the latest gossip (and yes men do gossip) or news that's happening in the hood.

To me, even when I had hair and went to my regular barbershop, it was a place where I could let down my guard and listen or join in the conversations happening around me. In an ideal world it would be excellent if there was a program where even barbers themselves could be paired with a social service agency to provide in-house testing on certain days.

Even churches can get in the mix and although some churches offer testing at off-hours, imagine if testing was provided right after a service on a Sunday morning.

Maybe that's what we need, an app for people who want to get tested but don't feel comfortable going into a clinic or social service agency known for offering services to HIV clients based on the stigma people may carry. Hey maybe we can get an app for removing stigma!

By showing me the new technology of meeting people by his smartphone, I have yet to think of a way to outreach to that new form of connection, yet its one that I hope agencies are looking at. They always say meet them where they're at and it's evident that not all men are going to the clubs but if we really want to do a cohesive HIV outreach effort we have to let go of the old ways and move into the new!

And unfortunately there's no app for that.

How Do You Say Goodbye

We spoke on the phone a month ago, me sitting on my stoop in Harlem, My friend on the other side of the country in Minnesota. I was planning a trip to visit and was making plans with him. Every time we met it was always filled with a walk down memory lane which would make us smile of all the things we shared. He had a great smile. The one thing you could say about him was that no matter how you were feeling, just go around my buddy and your worries would disappear in the shadow of his smile.

I wasn't prepared for the phone call from a friend that let me know my friend had suddenly died of a brain aneurysm. I was in denial as I just spoke to him and there was no mention of any ill health concerns. Yet no matter how much I wanted to deny it, it was true. My friend was called back home.

Along with the fun we had together we also shared having HIV. We would talk about how we were managing it as it was real important to have that one person you can be honest with and discuss the ugliness side of the disease without feeling judged or that you were burdening someone with a depressing topic. We were a great support system for each other.

We met when he saw an interview I did for the local paper discussing the HIV support group I was attending. Soon he was a member. We hit it off from the beginning and it was at that moment my memory banks were being replenished by his good spirit.

How do you say goodbye when you're never given the chance? When they are there one moment and the next they're not. How do you deal with the sadness of knowing that someone you loved as a dear friend is no longer with us.

How do you deal with the fact that HIV and death, although are in check with today's medicines-still have a relationship. Although my friend's death may or may not have been associated with his staus, there's still a reality check that tomorrow is never promised.

It's that reality that made me open my eyes to the life I'm living. Am I living a full life and am I doing everything possible to make sure it's a healthy life? Am I taking my meds everyday despite how sometimes I may miss a dose or two? Am I being honest with my doctor and telling him everything that's going on and not waiting for it to pass. Am I going after my dreams like my friend did-despite the naysayers who said you can't, you shouldn't, you won't.

How do I say goodbye.

I don't. I hold on to the memories, the smile and the good heart and I adopt it. I also deny myself the ability to be selfish and enjoy the friendships I've made on this earth and tell them how much I love them any chance I can.
I stop letting technology get in the way and stop sending texts and updates to my friends on Facebook. A easy way to say in touch but an impersonal way to stay connected. I've started to do it the old fashion way-making that phone call to hear their voice or knocking on their door to see them in person.

I say thank you to my friend and know that although on your funeral program they listed when your sun set. But I know in my heart your sun will always shine on me. And when that sun shine and I stand in its rays, instead of complaining about the heat. I'll instead appreciate the fact I'm here to feel that heat and most of all feel you always forever in my heart.

My friend- I'm not saying goodbye but I am asking you to do one thing for me. Save me a seat at the table and know I will always love you!