2 minute read
Making sense of it all. Glenn Stevens
For me, World Aids Day is always a time of reflection. A time to remember those we have lost to Aids and to be grateful for all the advances in medicine that have allowed many of us to continue to live.
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I was diagnosed HIV+ in 1988, when the best advice given was to make the next couple of years count. Aged 23 I freaked out, this wasn’t what I’d planned and, despite having a strong group of supportive friends, I needed someone outside that set. It was at this point that counselling was suggested to me as a way of making sense out of something that made little sense at all. My GP was hopeless, and also homophobic, so it was a great relief that Brighton had a fledgling HIV clinic with dedicated staff who were able to give me the information I needed and point me in the right direction.
The first was an outstanding HIV/Aids-dedicated counselling organisation called The Red Admiral Project, a London-based organisation offering help and support to all those living with a HIV/ Aids diagnosis. To me this was a revelation! Being offered the space and time to really dig deep into my emotions about how I felt and how I was going to deal with what was for all intents and purposes a death sentence.
Unsurprisingly with this support I flourished, dealt with and banished old demons and gathered the strength to grapple with this new one, HIV.
Over the years I have returned to counselling, finding it invaluable for me and my mental health in times of need, with particular thanks and praise to Jackie Titley, who used to be a counsellor extraordinaire at The Sussex Beacon.
Back to 1988, my flatmate, Tom, put me in touch with a fantastic scheme called The Buddy Group. The idea was simple but so effective: a person newly diagnosed with a HIV+ diagnosis would be paired up with a ‘Buddy’ who, in most cases, was another gay man who would go along to medical appointments and offer support. My Buddy was an amazing guy called Carleton who, as well as accompanying me to my medical appointments, was also a listening ear over a pint or two.
In those early days of HIV, Brighton volunteers rose to the challenge and there was an array of organisations, including Sussex AIDS Centre, Open Door and Our House. Our House offered an array of holistic therapies, all for free. In those early days I was treated for back pain and emotional wellbeing with acupuncture from a wonderful practitioner called Deirdre.
From those early days of living with HIV, I know how lucky I am to have been in line for antiretroviral medication which without a doubt saved my life but also threw at me a host of different side effect to overcome. To the brilliant volunteers who all stepped up at a time when people like me needed their support the most, I’d like to say ‘Thank you’.
