"A Life of Unlearning"

I'm reading his book at the moment. A minister in the Assemblies of God Pentecostal church here in Australia, he came out as gay and left the church. Incredibly interesting.

Work dramatics

Things came to a head last week at work. One person off on holidays for 3 weeks, sort staffed, pressure on. Other bloke I work with is a bludging no hoper who spends half the day chatting and the other half doing fuck all. This means that I have to take up the slack and do work that would otherwise be done by him if he was competent. 


The dept head got in Thurs morning and had a stress at me about 5 fuckin minutes the day before when I wasn't manning the machine. A short time later I had a massive dummy spit back at him, about the other bloke and WTF are you stressing at me for? His bludging has been going on for ages, he gets away with blue murder, and nothing ever gets done about it. Later in the evening after work I sent the dept head an email:

After today I am seriously considering handing in my notice, which probably includes a massive amount of holidays I suppose.... 

After the morning dummy spit it became very apparent that G___ and his spies had overheard the exchange (not that I give a fuck). And at the end of the day I overheard K____ saying to him "He finishes up at about 5 past, sometimes a bit after". The fuckin cleaner, preaching lies to a fuckwit, about me. 

FFS!

As far as I care they can all get fucked. With what I've got I will have no problem going on sickness benefits and moving out of Sydney to a mates place. I have been through way too much shit to give a fuck about it all. The mates place is lined up and ready to go. So am I.

This is obviously a transitional period for me when I may go one way or the other. It is about ME now, nobody else. My own mental health takes precedent. I'm sure you would understand where I'm coming from. 

Presently I am very much in favour of leaving. As my job now seems to be constantly bailing out a fuckwit I honestly can't come up with any reason to stay.

Peter.

He came and spoke to me about it as soon as he read it after getting in Fri. I explained to him that I wasn't imminently considering resigning in a massive hissy fit after nearly 12 years in the job, but that the situation at present was unsustainable, unworkable, and if something wasn't done I would in the long run end up leaving over it. 


I mean FFS, here I am fuckin HIV+ (which the dept head knows) and having to work harder and harder because of an incompetent fuckwit who couldn't work himself out of a fuckin wet paper bag! Sheesh! 


The holdaying staff member will be back after a week, and he has promised to do something about it then.

Bedroom complications

D has texted he will be in Sydney next week. Wants to come around for mad drugged sex. Any other time I'd be only to happy to oblige, but this time is different. 


S and I have gotten very close the last couple of weeks. I wasn't expecting that. Up till then  it was about intense sex and the intimacy that we felt for each other. But I never thought we'd end up feeling so comfortable and one with each other as we do now. The dog and cat are getting on OK now, both sleeping in the bedroom with us (I appear to be the only casualty so far) and it's like a home. The bed we share has become quite special, sort of our place where we're together. Despite my escapades I consider my bed to be a very private and intimate place, it's not just for anyone. Even D has only been in it once, that was the last time he was here. There are very few who I consider sharing it with.


S offered to go out while D visited, but I just wouldn't do that to him. It's feeling like a home here now, I couldn't expect him to leave while D and I fucked in the bed FFS. The same bed that over the last weeks S and I have found such beauty and closeness. S has his extra activities which is fine, but it'd be a bit strange if he bought them home to bed here and expected me to go out for a bit while he used the facilities.


I've honest and texted D that I'd feel too weird about fucking here. If he's staying somewhere in Sydney that is OK I'm fine going there, but not here. I don't want to do anything that would get in the way of how S and I feel for each other. 

Freedom to love

I don't feel any pain when we're together; the hurt inside washes away to somewhere else. It's just me and S and where we take each other. Somewhere away from this world, away where there's no pain or sadness. I cry from the release.


We are free to love each other. It was wonderful the other night to be out on Oxford St here, holding and kissing openly. The relationship, and the sex, isn't hidden away in some closet. We're open about it. No hiding, no quick fucks in secret. Free to explore each other and spend time together. Free to express tenderness and kindness.


I'm glad to be living in eastern Sydney. People accept us here for who we are. Society doesn't care. It's so bad how some would wish to doubt our love or even condemn it in other places. I'm glad we don't have to face the sort of hatred expressed by some.

In love

S and I have entered a new place. A place beyond any previous life experience for me. We've gotten closer as he's been here for a week now. The sex.... OMG "sex" seems such a small word to describe.....


It's like something reaching at my soul, grabbing it and pulling it in. Into joy and freedom. Peace. Love. Immersing. So very beautiful. Tears of joy, uncontrollable. Panting for breath, overcome. 


So moving, so lovely. Have never experienced this intensity before.


After I hold him, still panting, still where he's taken me.... I love him so much....

Recovering

Been quite surprised at how run down I got last week. Getting better from the cold, but certainly has knocked me around more than someone without HIV. Think the euphoria of having an undetectable viral load was perhaps a bit overdone? It's been a huge achievement, but in the end it's still managing the virus and not curing it. For the rest of my life now it will have to be managed. I can't see any cure coming up in the near future.

Overdoing it

My body still has it's limitations. Being much healthier with an undetectable viral load doesn't negate the fact that I still have HIV. I've found it can be easy to forget this at times, thinking my body has the stamina to do things like it used to.


For a start the drugs I'm on a very heavy. HIV medication isn't like taking an aspirin or two a day. Even though I'm used to them now they still can knock me around. Some days I seem more affected than others, at times tired and in some sort of detached state all day. This isn't from the HIV itself but from the medication used to control it. The antidepressants I'm still on are still at a very high dose. And even though I'm used to them I still even now feel a bit stoned for a couple of hours in the morning after taking them, this on top of the HIV medication and it's effects. Add to that anti-inflammatory's for the continual aches and pains from work, along with Panadene Forte. And the blood pressure pills are also at a high dose. All this must take some sort of toll on my body.


Work has been very busy last few days. Wed and Thurs I'd have lifted a total of 4 tonnes of paper per day easily. This morning I'd had a bad nights sleep and was just too tired to get up. Rang the boss/dept head, who was very understanding as he knows I'm positive. I'd reached the limit of my body's resources to deal with all it is re medication, as well as working. I'll have to take it easy the next few days before Mon to recuperate. 


Have decided to go to the Planet Positive tonight. While S is in town it'd be a good night out to relax and say hello to people over a few beers. Not planing on overdoing it though.... least the demon alcohol get me again! :)

The church and the closet; a gay curse

Inasmuch as some segments of liberal Christianity have expressed a willingness to accept the so-called “gay rights” movement as a legitimate lifestyle, and

Whereas the inerrant, inspired Word of God emphatically declares, in Romans chapter I, homosexuality to be vile, unclean, unnatural, unseemly, and an abomination in the sight of God, and

Whereas the United Pentecostal Church International is a fundamental Bible-believing organism entrusted with a divine destiny to provide spiritual direction to a wayward world,

Let us therefore resolve that the United Pentecostal Church International go on public record as absolutely opposed to homosexuality and condemn it as a moral decadence and sin, and do hereby encourage prayer for the deliverance of those enslaved by that satanic snare. 

UPCI

United Pentecostal Church International 


It has become increasingly aware to me in recent days the curse of the closet. People forced to hide their sexuality for fear of retribution. People attracted to the same sex, but living in a closeted world, a world full of lies. 


It surprises me how many there are in the "straight" world who have sex with other men on the sly. I once met a guy for example at the local gay sex club, he was right into it. Had a long term relationship with his girlfriend of many years, they had a house bought together, a dog, backyard, nice car, etc etc. Yet he was leading an entirely double life, going to sex clubs and he liked to be fucked. The world he grew up in the friends would have bashed him he reckoned if they found out. I stopped seeing him as it was all too weird. His girlfriend would ring on his mobile when we were having sex at my place, and he would lie to her. I just couldn't fathom it.


Because of the fear he was forced to have sex discretely instead of declaring and being happy about who he was. Discreet gay sex is most often anonymous, uncaring, without any attachments. It has to be. If they are found out....... 


Once I discussed with a gay guy who frequented toilets. Evidently said toilets were a well known "beat". He told me some guys would turn up there in cars with baby seats in the back, WTF? He would think "What are you doing?"


I am open about who I am, have always been. Presently I am very open about who I presently am. Yes, S and I met in a sex venue cubicle where he fucked me for the first time. The experience was so intense however we stayed in contact. Because of our openness we don't endure such harsh realities as never seeing each other again after such an intense encounter. 


He's been away for a few days back tomorrow night. Have convinced him to stay 2 weeks here instead of his planned one. Our last night together was the most beautiful experience. The sex was so very intimate, me on my back and holding him as we made love, my legs around him, us kissing and hugging..... I had tears.... and afterward we held each other all night. So close, so intimate, so much love to share.... 


So very very different I guess from the closet curse. Free to love each other, express that in sex, without fear of retribution. 

Doubting; but I believe in myself!

It has taken much time over many years. But today, and likely the last weeks, I've come to the conclusion that I actually believe in myself, believe it or not! 


I would estimate it has taken decades to get to this point. I had rather an unfortunate childhood, with a father who fought in WW2 proceeding to use his escape back to the middle of nowhere in New Zealand as his therapy for Post Traumatic Stress I guess. Short story, living at the ass end of the world didn't heal his PTS. He was an entirely dysfunctional father. His answer to any problem by us kids was to lay down the law and threaten us with violence if said decree was not followed. Indeed, the very first memory I have of my father was one of the first memories I ever had; me petrified as a toddler, scared shitless, running from him terrified. I hid under the water tank on the farm just next to the kitchen, he knew where I was , but my screams were so horrifyingly scary even he stopped. He didn't follow me in there, pretended he didn't find me, but even then I knew he knew. It left me to contemplate this first memory of him for the rest of my life.....


He was never supportive, always intensely critical at every opportunity. We lived quite close to a beach but never went because he was the driver and he would remember the planes flying over a beach from the war. He never told me he loved me. Never showed any emotion that even hinted at it. He was 47 when I was born, and he was from another time. I was sensitive and not fitting in with the rest as a kid. He seemed to resent that. In the end I ended up hating him for being so self absorbed, and expectant that I would be more than a little "sissy". I hated sports at school, just was hopeless at it. I never fit with the tough New Zealand farm boy image back then in the '70's. I cried if weed spray splashed on me or if I tripped into cow shit. 


All this was just the beginning...... There was much more to follow.....


Suffice to say at this point that this story of mine will continue on this blog. 


Someone was asking me other day about how cynical I was, about how people had their own faith and that I should not be critical of that. During that conversation I remembered having a very vivid dream only a few weeks before. Much of it remains crystal clear in my head even today. Dreams are they say your subconscious sorting things out when you sleep. I dunno, I guess so?


This particular dream was about the conflict that I had decades ago with the United Pentecostal Church (of which for a very short time I was a licensed minister of it in New Zealand in the early '80's). Without going into what lead up to it in the dream, there was a point where a person from the UPC was proclaiming to me that he believed in God and Jesus and all, and "what else is there to believe in?".


My response was that I believe in myself.


I do doubt myself at times. I look at it all and wonder how the fuck I even held my head together into the little pieces that it ended up in. But I did. 


I sought the help, I got back from the brink of suicide. Had I not had a last gasp of being proactive I wouldn't be here today. Any god that may or may not exist was not there. It was up to me if I lived or died. It was my choice. With help I chose to live.....


DOUBTS AND ALL.

The other side of the story; gay suicides

I was never worried much at all about investigating the other side of my sexuality after my wife died. After all I live in Eastern Sydney which has the 2nd highest per capita gay population in the world after San Fransisco. People are very accepting and tolerant here, even of me being HIV+ let alone gay. Last year being suicidal wasn't anything about my sexuality but simply not being able to deal with the pain I'd been exposed too. 


In that sense I found US Councilman Joel Burns's speech on YouTube immensely moving. Not only does he speak of that place of pain where things are so bad that suicide seems the only option, but he speaks for the other side of the political story in a very personal way; of being gay and being on the receiving end of gay hatred. I understand where he's coming from on both levels, particularly regarding suicide. For me it wasn't because of my sexuality, but as with those gays who suicided it was the pain that was too much for me to bear; pain for whatever reason.


And I do understand to some extent what others face who aren't as fortunate to live in such a progressive and accepting community as me. I've been involved in online political discussions where the high rate of suicides among gays was put forward as an indication of how wrong it was to be so. No mention or understanding that the reason for the suicides is often the very hatred expressed by the same person. They point to suicides as being a bad thing about being gay, when they themselves are the very fucking reason for it. 


It's no fun coping that sort of intolerance and hatred. We are people, just like everyone else. We have the same hopes, dreams as all. We shouldn't be singled out and used as a political football. Or hated just because of who we are. Luckily I was in a mature enough position and society not to be hurt by such people. Others are not so. Young and sensitive, vulnerable people..... 


This is the other side of the story.

Gone for a day

OMG I miss him. He's not here today, gone to his lady friend of years near here who he is supporting in her divorce. No, there's nothing sexual there, he would have told me; we tell each other everything. But fuck I miss him. Even just for today, as he will be back tomorrow.


He went to an opera last night at the opera house. I can't stand opera, shudder at the mere thought of some fat lady screaming crap that I can't understand. I would rather listen to a cat being strangled, or be attacked by one fearing a dog.


Um, BTW the cat's head has stopped spinning. So far I am the only casualty. Last 3 nights they have slept in the same room with me and S, although I think the cat slept with one eye open. I appear to snore in synchronisation with the dog, whilst S listens contentedly and takes in the atmosphere of domestic bliss. 


I am really getting sick of this. The more I'm around S the more I love him. I know we have such vastly separate lives, but fuck, I just want to be with him every day. We get on so well. We never argue, never have a bad word for each other, are one in many ways.


We woke this morning, he'd not gotten in until midnight after the opera. Got into bed without waking me, his dog asleep in it's little bed that I'd put in it, the cat asleep on the chair getting ever more friendly with said dog and also sleeping peacefully. Me too. Bliss. We hugged each other just before the alarm. Held so fuckin tight. I didn't want to go to work, he didn't want me to, we just wanted to hold and be with each other, no time limits. 


I had to go to work, he the friend today. We both feel very sad. He has promised he will be back tomorrow.


I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone ever again.

"Thought about killing yourself lately?".

Have had a disagreement with a gay old pub person lately. His background is a retired magistrate on a gov pension forever more, indexed to inflation. I only found this out recently. Previously he has been up the pub, we became quite good mates, him giving the thing  that he was a poor old pensioner on about $500 a fortnight if that, struggling to survive. Me, being a mate, has bought many drinks for him and had many laughs, him not buying me anything, proclaiming at one point "You're the working man". I was happy to pay top $ for what he was drinking as I just hate to see someone go without a drink at a pub who is a mate. Often I was spending well beyond my limits in doing so. For months now I've been trying to live off only $300 a week after paying rent on my own and the loan repayments from last year when it all turned to shit and I very nearly topped myself. He is 67.


The other week I found out his indexed magistrate pension was $2,500 a fortnight. His young 25 year old fuck he lives with he has given total control of all his money. The young bloke is a druggie FFS. He blasts his Methadone FFS. He delays paying the rent because he's organising shit to put in his arm. He has lost most of his teeth from poor health due to this. He is a junkie, pure and simple, which he has decided has control. This junkie gets a sickness benefit of not even $400 a fortnight. Together they qualify for a fuckin housing loan and can borrow enough money to get a $650,000 house! I know  because he fuckin told me!


I was fuckin livid! I told him so. Then after a week or so he comes to the pub putting shit on me in front of a fuckin table full of people about not having the money to buy him spirits drinks, without him buying me anything. I feel betrayed and leave, sending a text telling him what an asshole he is and sending it to others that were present at the table also.


Last night he demands (blind drunk) that I apologise for the text. I refuse, tell him told him to get fucked, and shut the fuck up ot I'd get him chucked out. He leaves.


Tonight he was in form not even worthy of reply; "How are you Peter? Thought about killing yourself lately?". 


I didn't reply, went to the bar got another beer. Left it alone to his sad delusional world.


Can't help thinking though, "You old cunt".

Cat attack!

S bought his little dog. The cat has never had another animal in the house it's whole life. The cat freaked out. I picked it up to calm it down, it attacked me!


Luckily it's claws had been cut. I still however sustained a large cut to my arm from it's back leg, and a couple of minor scratches on my forehead. Sheesh!


I start blotting up the blood with tissues, look in the mirror, and proclaim "OMG, my HIV is leaking everywhere!"


I have recovered somewhat this morning. No more bleeding, and it was really good having S here last night.

Another visit

S is coming tonight from the country. Staying for 3 weeks.


We've both missed each other hugely, can't wait to see him. 

Third day of good news

OMG I've got the trifecta! Three days in a row of good news. *faints*


The third one was attending the blood pressure trials yesterday that I'm taking part in, with Co-Diovan pills to control it. After having stubbornly high blood pressure for quite some time, it has come down to normal levels. A pretty major feat. Before this I was taking two pills of a different kind and it was still really high. Think the happy pills have a lot to do with it, being on such a high dose. I don't know if the HIV ones affect blood pressure or not.


In fact the court thing being over and done with may have contributed in itself. I was so bloody stressed out about that. It's a horrible feeling being in court, incredibly nervous and fearful. One thing that I'd forgotten about was the good behaviour bond I'm still on until next July. If this had been marked against the bond as a breach of it (it wasn't) the results of this court case would go back to the original magistrate who sentenced me for the drink driving and gave me the bond. If he was an asshole he could re-sentence me on the original drink driving charge; I could have ended up in fuckin jail! Cripes! So overall a very good court result.

Court; the results of todays hearing

The day finally came. Glad solicitor representing me as he did much that I'd not have known in the slightest. Got the case relegated to a friendly magistrate, and it turned out the police prosecutor and him knew each other from way back and were very friendly with each other. After a bit of a chat together the police side of things became much more reasonable. 

There was nothing recorded with the good behaviour bond I'm still on until next July.

The "Resist Arrest" was treated as a section 10A conviction, not sure what that means other than no conviction recorded.

The magistrate told the Transit Police that they should have "thicker skins" (they reported to the Police themselves that me telling them to hurry up was offensive).

The ribs were deemed as "accidental", being the result of us falling out of the bus (WTF? - the bloody Keystone Cops!).

I was fined $450 for offensive language ("cunt").

Vasso (solicitor) said it was "less than a slap on the wrist". He may be right given all involved with the bond and resist arrest.

I will soon email the Ombudsman's office with above results to see if they want to take any further action or not. They told me they wanted to know any comments made regarding the police behaviour; I assume that includes the Transit Police as well which were in a joint operation with the cops. Being as the Resist Arrest charge is gone, they may proceed with something? Who knows. It may not quite be over yet. If they want to continue with something I'll follow it.

All in all a very good result today. A pissy little fine, and the end of court for me and the solicitor.  Suck shit you dumb cops.

Undetectable Viral Load - 2nd blood test taking medication

HIV; no longer a killer.


Well for me anyway. I have mentioned it before, that by a chance of fate I live, whilst others die. We are very very lucky here in Australia. We have not only the latest cutting edge medicines if they're needed, but also access to them across the whole community. My particular pills are costing the gov around $1,000 a month, yet I pay only $66. In a couple of months I may even qualify for the safety net and they'll only cost about $15 for the last bit of the calendar year. 


They keep me alive. But even more; the doctor said that this should be "the beginning of the end of HIV" for me, and getting the virus down to where it is now was the hardest part and I'd done it. The viral load is now below 40, which is the lowest they can detect with current testing. As long as I keep taking the pills, it will stay there. Doc described it as like a leaking pipe that you tie a towel around, each day the towel fills up so you tie another dry one on and the house doesn't flood. Yet if you stop the towels the house eventually floods. The pills will keep the virus from multiplying.


Again, there's been a huge turnaround in my general health over the last 3 months. It's a bit scary knowing that to run out of these pills will really fuck me up, or that in the long term my life depends on them. Luckily I've already had much experience taking pills at the same time each day, the happy pills particularly which I've been on for about a year and a half now, but also blood pressure. I simply take the HIV pills with them. I guess being mentally ill with high blood pressure has it's advantages. 


It's court day today, will be off there in a bit. Got a thing from the psychologist yesterday for it, cripes didn't know whether to laugh or cry! I am one really fucked up dude in the head.

I want to be treated normally

Public holiday today, long weekend, Monday.


Not a very good night last night, up with the runs again. Ugh, there seems to be a lot of it going around in Sydney. Neighbour has it, daughter had it for a week. I did too thought it was gone. Then 2 hours awake going to the toilet, ack.


Will be interested to find out the next blood results tomorrow. Taken couple of weeks ago, that will make it about two and a half months on medication. After the initial dramatic drop in the viral load I'm feeling quite confident of a further improvement. My health certainly has been so. It's like everything that was making me aware of having HIV has gone; well perhaps not the runs, but then again it is going around!


There's another Planet Positive this month, some special one to co-ordinate with something or other. Think I'll give this one a miss too. Finding now I'm just not relating to the whole thing. I mean it's wonderful the support is there, but for me right now it's like attending support things like that is more a reminder of the HIV than a help. Sort of makes me feel not normal, when of late being much healthier I do feel very "normal" (if there is such a thing).


Having it now is mostly about the social and psychological stigma involved with that, rather than  a health issue of impending doom. It's manageable, not a death sentence. Perhaps that's the line I'm crossing now in my head. I don't want to be treated differently simply because I have HIV, but just like everyone else. Why shouldn't I be?


Society has a long way to go with this. For it to simply accept that someone has this without discrimination or stigmatisation, is at the moment a far off dream. 


It has been said from support people, that some of us after diagnosis find help and connect with that available to us, but then go on to find our own way. Others may find they need to continue with the support and services available. Presently I think I'm now one finding my own way. In a sense that's quite empowering.

A bit of social withdrawal

Have been in a shit of a mood for about a week now. Overreacting to silly things. Slightly lost the plot a bit there. Nothing new for me I suppose.


I used to be very empathetic to other people, tried to understand their position. Now it's like I don't have the energy to worry about them. Don't like being like this, but it's just how I am presently. 


Considered staying home and not doing the pub chat thing for the long weekend. I seem to be stepping on everyone's toes. But then I thought WTF? Banning myself from the pub? Am I insane? I doubt withdrawing from people would be any solution. Certainly hasn't been in the past. Perhaps this is where I find out who are really my friends; those who accept me warts and all. They know what I'm dealing with and the benefit of the doubt if I go slightly troppo now and then.


It's a huge week next week. Tues get the results of the second HIV blood test on the meds. See psychologist after that for an hour. Wed is court day; my first appearance re the charges of offensive language and resisting arrest (solicitor has appeared for me until now). It is a hearing. Am really nervous about it. Thursday I go to the next appt of the blood pressure pill trials to see how I'm doing there; it has come down a lot since the beginning and after being put up to higher and higher doses of the new pills. Friday supposed to go to dentist, may cancel that one, enough is enough for one week!


J, the new flatmate will be moving in this weekend. Room is finally cleared, just needs a good vacuum. Posted a pic earlier with all the stuff in, good grief! Anyway the before pic:

The after pic:

It's quite a big room, am asking $150wk for it, that's not even half the rent for the place here. J does casual agency work so I was happy to take just $100wk if she's in a bit of bother with work. Very unpredictable casual work.