Before I go into detail about all that is feel is “wrong” about my life right now, let me say that I know I am blessed beyond measure to even be breathing and able to share my story. Although the pain I feel inside is intense sometimes, I will never tell myself that it’s suitable to complain or stay in my sadness for too long. That being said, today I am sad.

I need to start at the beginning. When I was 8 years old I was introduced to sex. Some would say that I was molested but I’ve always thought of that experience as me being “sexualized”. I don’t like to think of it as molestation because the people I were sexualized by were not that much older than me. Old enough to influence me, but not old enough to really know what they were doing either. It happened 3 times within 2 or 3 years. A few times with an older cousin. He was 3 years my senior. Additionally, a few times with 2 family friends. These were my mother’s friend’s sons. They were only 4 years older than me.

Although I did not understand the implication sex has on relationships and the place it has in our life experiences at that point, I remember being excited by the fact that I was being afforded the chance to engage in sexual behavior. I felt wanted. I felt attractive.

When I was young, my mother and father began having marital issues. Even though my father was there in my early childhood (I have not spoken to him since 2006), I can’t necessarily remember anything of importance that he taught me.

I’ve always been small in stature. I’ve always had soft mannerisms. I don’t blame the boys for initiating those sexual experiences because enjoyed those experiences (no judgement, please) and children do those kinds of things more often than we’d like to think or admit. I didn’t know, however, what those experiences meant at the time or what they would mean for me later down the road.

Throughout my teen years, I craved the attention of men. Grown men, to be exact. The first time I had penetrative sex, it was with a man well into his 30’s. I was 15. It happened on Christmas Eve in the back of his car at a park. No condom was involved. This thrilled me and scared me to no end. I sunk into isolation and paranoia. I believed that I might have contracted something but was too afraid to go get tested. When I got tested 2 years later, I was HIV-negative.

I used to feel like I’d always been drawn to darkness. Now I understand that fantasizing about my relationship to danger made it a reality. I created that.

Needless to say, from that point on, in an effort to seek attention from men and get the validation I felt I needed, I slept with many, many, MANY men. Some protected, some unprotected. It started to get tiring and I knew that my soul was looking for something other than what I continued to receive. I’d give my body in hopes that someone would love me, stick around, care about me. I did not learn from the lessons LIFE was trying to teach me and take heed soon enough. I was diagnosed as HIV-positive at age 19. I’d always been smart and had went away to school with a full scholarship but when I found out I was infected in June of 2006, I didn’t return to my studies.

My mom was very religious and appalled by the thought of homosexuality. In her eyes, it was not God’s plan for my life. This caused me to shrink and hide who I was even more. How could I argue with her? Ashamed and lonely, I sunk further into the shadows and started experimenting with meth at age 24. Meth changed my life forever.

It made me careless, reckless and numbed the pain. I found myself in sex clubs and dirty hotel rooms doing things to and for men I didn’t know in order to feel alive and loved. I’d delve into a night or two of marathon sex only to come back facing fears and insecurities that had doubled in size during the time I was away partying. Even though I was on a path to spiritual I believed that since I could keep a job and I didn’t let it interfere with that side of myself, I was okay and in control.

Even though I knew I deserved better and was worth more, the only thing that stopped me from overdosing or killing myself was being hurt physically during rough sex. My anus ripped in November of 2013.

It took me months to heal. It hurt like hell. I still had to work. I still had to engage with people as if I was not in constant pain. I didn’t see a doctor. I was too embarrassed. I promised myself that I would never turn to a life controlled by meth. This stopped everything and forced me to look at myself. During this same time, I also developed a candida skin infection. Because the drugs I was using were so strong, it killed all of the friendly bacteria in my immune system leaving me open to opportunistic infection. I didn’t know why at the time but I would get (and still do get) huge red boils on my legs, chest and back. My face looked (and sometimes still looks gray-ish and sullen)

I came to realize I didn’t like meth simply for the high it provided. If I could not have sex on meth, I didn’t want meth. The confidence it made me feel was of no use to me if I couldn’t use it to show others how provocative and carefree I could be.

Last summer (2014), I met a guy I thought was perfect for me. He showed me love and sensitivity. I’d never imagined that someone like him could be a part of my experience. He was gentle and understood that I’d been through a lot. He told me not to focus on the things I didn’t like about my body. Although I hesitated to tell him everything at first, eventually I did. We waited to have sex for a long time. We talked about my issues with intimacy and how we would approach that point once we reached it.

I could not wait. I used meth and cheated on him before we got the chance to consummate our relationship. I was frightened to have sober sex with him and I didn’t know what to expect from the experience without using my drug of choice. After cheating, I told myself I would never tell him. My conscience would not let me make that choice. After all, he’d been so understanding and I couldn’t stand to deceive him. I knew that my choice would affect our relationship whether or not I told him. Upon telling him, he said that he wished I had never told him and to never bring it up again. It made me feel worse that it did not seem to bother him that much.

To make a long story short, he eventually showed another side of himself, admitting that he had been cheating on me since the beginning of our relationship after I went through his phone. He ended up comparing me to other guys, expressing that he thought I was too sensitive and weak and played on my vulnerability and emotional availability. He broke it off with me and told me that we should never talk again.

We broke up 4 and a half months ago and now I am trying to find balance in my life. He has texted me twice since then to “check on me”. I have never initiated convo with him since the day he told me we should never speak again. I have responded politely but have kept the convo short both times. I realize now that he was dealing with a lot of the same issues I was dealing with, just in different ways.

So now here I am, with a skin infection, a weakened immune system and a long road ahead of me. I’ve come to discover that my skin infection is triggered and flares up when I eat sugar or anything that turns into sugar (most carbs). I didn’t realize what was going on in my body until I did an herbal parasite cleanse and my face got brighter and my skin got clear. During this time, I was not allowed to eat any carbs. I lasted for a month. I didn’t want to give my clear skin up but I was getting dangerously thin. A week ago, I started eating carbs again. I immediately gained visible weight during the past week but I now have oily, patchy, dull skin. I know if I do the cleanse again, I will look great skin-wise and it will keep my infection at bay but I’m already too thin to only eat low-calorie foods. =(

To be honest, at this point I’m just listening to the voice inside. I’ve been trying to move from body identification to spirit identification and try to stay on the fast for as long as I can. However, I don’t want to be a stick figure. With my positive status, it’s already hard for me to keep my weight up.

I guess I just needed to vent. I am trying to remember that ever problem in the physical word is a spiritual issue first. I am hoping that as I try to connect to the higher power that resides in all of us, my body will be healed as well. It’s sad that I only arrived at this point because of a perceived threat to my vanity. However, I know that all of this has happened for a reason and I don’t want to miss what UNIVERSE is teaching me or take that for granted. I’m moving into an awareness that is bigger than my skin condition or HIV status but sometimes I feel hopeless and lost.

I just want to feel whole again. =(