By Moshe Mark Adler
-
I couldn’t tell you the date, the time of year, what I ate, what I may havesmoked or snorted, or just exactly why I was there; but I do have some vivid,very visual memories. I just started to remember them actually, as myselective memory seems to have protected me in a way for over 30 years.Completely blocked off the memory. But then the light bulb went off, thecloth was removed and the smelling salts helped me awake to thememories. I wish that I had stayed asleep, happy and clueless. Thememories came with deeply suppressed shame followed by very stronganger. Yes, he did THAT to me, without my consent, when NO really meantNO, where the pain was literally an insult to injury, and when my life cameoff the rails and shifted foreverOnly while doing some deep personal introspection during my work in the12 steps did it come out. I DO remember when and where THAThappened. In a parking lot after a Friday night meeting, l was leaning upagainst my new sponsor’s car. We were talking about my history as anaddict, going back memory to memory, when I was shocked that, as wediscussed how one thing led to another it came back… To be blunt thetime I was raped I was a bottom, the man who took advantage of me was atop, meaning he fucked me from behind. It likely would have been painful,but all I can remember is my desperately wanting him to just STOP.I walked home that night shocked, ashamed and definitely blaming myselffor letting it happen. Yes, I chose to be there. It was my fault it happened. Ithought I brought it on myself. I liked hanging out with him because not onlywas he successful and powerful, but he seemed to take an interest in meas an entrepreneur and encouraged my potential… and he had coke. I’djust started to take drugs that year and couldn’t afford it. We had gottentogether many times before and I had felt safe with him, no cause forconcern. Later I was told this was called “grooming” me to prepare me tobe vulnerable. I just know that I now believe he had planned thisbeforehand.
-
I feel used and abused…now. Right now, as I write these words my jaw isclenched and my muscles are very tight. I can only think that I am guessinghe still works at the same place, or I might be able to find his house again. Iwonder if I would have the guts to accuse him and given the chance…totake him to court. Would I tell this story in public? (I’m doing just that rightnow!) Would I be ashamed and therefore believe people would judgeme…they likely would! What good would it do to go after him now, after allthese years? Do I want revenge? Do I want to see him locked up, sufferrepercussions, to pay for what he did? This is the opposite of what a friendhad recommended …Forgiveness! They said I would grow and release negativity if I just forgavehim. That’s a crock of it, isn’t it? How about revenge instead? Wouldn’t Irelease negativity more if I saw him pay for what he did? He caused memore than the physical pain that night. He caused me all the physical andemotional pain that I’ve incurred in the 34 years since then.Because I believe that night he infected me with the HIV Virus. That was1985 and in1987 I was diagnosed HIV+. I’m very thankful that I didn’tstart having major physical problems until years after my diagnosis, yet Istarted having emotional problems immediately in the days after I wasdiagnosed. Nothing can prepare you for a diagnosis for a life-threateningillness. Nothing can prepare you to get this information from researchers atNIH in white scrubs who likely had never told someone this before.Today there are specialists that can share the news with you gently andoffer support networks available to you immediately, and these days mostpeople find out when they know what their blood is being tested for. I wastested during a study there at NIH. There was no one there for me…no oneto counsel me around the corner. Not much readily available to read. Verylittle information about what AIDs was, and how it did things to people.Yet with a little effort, I was able to find support groups for other HIV+people. In these groups, we became very close immediately. We shared afear and worry none others could understand. We were faced with brutal
-
prejudice and sometimes abandonment. We were judged andmisunderstood. Some of us kept a secret that festered deep inside (I wasvery blessed to have a strong network of family and friends that I trustedand confided in and shared my diagnosis with, who mostly supported meunconditionally and were there for me, especially in the early days)We got tested very regularly for our tCell count, worrying each time whatthe tests would show. Were we dying, if so how fast? Yet we allfeared/knew we WERE dying. AIDS was known as a death sentence in thosedays. I watched others dying around me left and right.., usually painfullyand somewhat slowly, a path that often led to acceptance. What else wasthere to do.My tCells dropped under 200, a sign that changed my diagnosis tosomeone living with AIDS. The only good thing about this was thisdiagnosis immediately put me on disability which helped me financially (Iended up not working as I got worse) and got me on Medicare which madesure I got better health care. I began going to a clinic that wreaked of deathand there was a sad silence that pervaded the rooms. The doctors werekind but offered little support and positive encouragement. Sadly almosteveryone whose tCells dropped under 200 are no longer with us. I am a“Long Term Survivor” and extremely blessed. I never take this for granted!I added up all the days (and hours) combined that I lost in different formsof health care due to being HIV+ after my diagnosis. It ended up to monthsof my life. Days and days of doctors appts, hospitals, clinics, therapists,surgeries, endless conversations and more. I had these surgeries &procedures numerous times as a direct result of my attack. I sufferedthrough fears every time I dealt with health challenges I have had to dealwith: Thrush; cDef / C-deficile, eight times often losing a week or more outof my life; Shingles two times, including being hospitalized for a monthwhen I was very lucky that when I had them on one side of my face I didn’tlose vision in that eye; and Bronchitis over twelve times that I began toeven diagnose myself. I have learned quite a bit about medical information,terms, symptoms, and solutions. I’ve also had Pneumonia. Each time I had
-
Pneumonia I was immediately treated as if I had PCP Pneumonia whichwas very intense and overwhelming. PCP pneumonia killed thousands ofpeople in the early years of the virus.And the worst was Neuropathy. Neuropathy first led to tingling digits, thenvery cold feet and hands, then the “shooting pins and needles” …which isan accurate description of the sudden pain out of nowhere that felt likestabbing feelings, over and over. Then my legs went numb from my toes upto above my knee. When they became numb I was actually thankful thatthe stabbing feeling stopped. When it was worst my fingers also got numband I would wake up to a frozen jaw. I ended up bedridden for 9 monthsand was told I may never walk again. I was blessed to have a family friend,who was an AIDS provider and researcher, recommend a change of medsthat saved my life. Today I still deal with Neuropathy with pain even after ashort workout or walk.I had fears of death and dying for over 20 years, didn’t think I’d live to be 25(I’m 54 now) then horrible PTSD, then incredible survivors guilt. I havebeen through decades of seeing Psychiatrists, Psychologists, therapists,and social workers from a life turned upside down for 32 years. I wasreminded of my plight every time I took my meds, saw a doctor, feltphysical pain or felt lost and confused. Being diagnosed with HIV/AIDS wasconsidered a death sentence back in the late 80’s/early 90’s when Iwatched people succumb to the virus one by one, way too many, with waytoo much pain. Now those of us who are Long Term Survivors thankfullyare still alive but deal with all kinds of emotional and physical challengesthat continue as we enter our middle-age years still alive … but still HIV+!So sadly I remember that night now, that fateful night when I was given nochance, and clearly was raped. That criminal changed my life forever. Hetook an action that screams abuse, violence, and unwanted life-changingdisrespectful selfishness! It’s the age of the “Me Too” movement… my storyis not unique, I share it because it’s not just about me. The stories of menraped by men go way beyond priests and current sex offenders. Men likemy attacker walk by you on the street, on the subway, and at work every
-
day.I hope I can raise awareness and people can not only make healthierchoices but also hopefully work through the shame and come out and tellthere stories too.Moshe Mark AdlerJuly 9th, 2017Current edit July 7th, 2019EPILOGUE- in re-reading this while I edited it, I realized that hopefully mysharing this will be the last step so I can move on….bottom line I haveHAVE NOT gone searching for him …I also realized that I haven’t struggledwith this anger anymore…maybe this is the next step toforgiveness…maybe Karma will catch up with him….But I just had a weirdthought….I’ve never considered if he’s still alive….if I did get infected by himin 1985, for so many POZ folks in that time, it WAS a deathsentence…actually odds are he’s not still with us…I’m one of the lucky onesto be an LTS all these years later! Maybes I have to “forgive” myself for theshame?!? Once again, writing can be very therapeutic for me….and sharingis important, because over the years I have been told that I don’t just writefor myself…in some of my writing I am a voice for so many other Long TermSurvivors, in some I’m the voice for so many friends I’ve lost to thevirus….in this piece I write for other victims of abuse
-
HIV LONG TERM SURVIVORS International Network 