Important note: Information in this article was accurate in July 1999. The state of the art may have changed since the publication date.
My rational mind knows that I'm ten years older than when I was diagnosed. More often than not, however, I blame the ache or pain of unknown etiology on HIV, and rush to the doctor to see why I don't feel as well as my numbers look. At which point she calmly looks at me and says, "Well, you are 46 years old, you know...it's perfectly natural that you should feel this or that..." And it hits me like a ton of bricks. I didn't think I was going to be around long enough to deal with things like menopause, or arthritis, for heaven's sake.
When I let go of the idea that I would probably die of AIDS in the next few years, I took on a whole new spectrum of issues and emotions. I kind of had the feeling that some things in my life were not going to be all joyous and renewed, like having to pay off the credit cards, and taxes, and dealing with decimated finances. But I really wasn't prepared for new health issues. I guess I thought that once I had HIV on the run, everything else would leave me alone. After all, what's a wrinkle or a backache to me at this point? Surprisingly...a big deal.
Even though I feel much better than I ever expected, I am more aware than I would like to be of the time that passed while I was disabled. I think I expected when my numbers went up that magically I would be physically the same as I was before all this happened. One of the most painful realizations was that I wasn't going to get back those years that I was so ill. I know this sounds a bit ungrateful and cranky of me. I should be just rejoicing that I'm alive. But if I'm really honest with myself, I can admit that fighting for my life and winning (for the time being) didn't turn me into an incredibly noble person and remove all my little vanities. I still want to look and feel young. I don't want to deal with raging hormones or osteoporosis or things not being as firm as they used to be.
What happens when I deny the aging process is that I don't take care of myself. I expect things of myself that are unrealistic. I put my body through unnecessary stresses. And I get very, very disappointed when I can't do the kinds of things I think I should be able to do. This disappointment often can lead me into a downward spiral of thought that tells me I am old, weak, and unattractive, which in turn leads to depression. Depression is often harder for me to deal with than any physical problem I might have.
These are the times that I have to pull back and gain some perspective. I ask my HIV negative friends who are my age, "Hey, does this or that happen to you, now that you're over 40?" I often have to humble myself and admit to my doctor, or therapist, or friends, that I don't know how to handle certain issues and I need help. When I let go of the idea that I can tough it out by myself and open up a little, everything seems to get lighter and easier. I stop doing things just to prove to everyone that I'm "all better" and take life at a more realistic pace.
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