Accounting This Kind of Scare

The red ribbon is the worldwide symbol of support
and awareness for people living with HIV.

Once I heard that when you grow old, you would stop praying for the obvious material and mundane things and would pray for peace of mind instead. Recently I’ve surprised myself by realizing the depth of its truth.

I have done dirty little stupid things in the past and the consequences seem to be hunting me at present, like the threat of catching HIV virus for instance. Back then I didn’t think that it was even in the table. (I know there is no valid excuse for such things but I’m blaming it to the adventurous and horny teen hormones.) Then shit just got the fucking real when I’ve read an article noting the rise of HIV cases in the city where I spent college at, and then reinforced by a med student buddy who noted lymph nodes in my neck while we’re at it. (Umm, yup, we were doing it.) I wasn’t really gunning for an Ice Bucket Challenge but at that moment I kind of had an inkling as to how it was, having to feel that intense cold that sips through your pores and bones. It threatened my whole blissful being. For I am aware, that I have been, for the lack of better word, unsafe.

For a long time I set the thought and threat aside, convincing and willing myself to be negative. That there is no fucking way I have the virus. I am sort of in denial you may say. Yet still, the thought, the possibility, lingered on. I felt uneasy and troubled to the point that I would play possible scenarios before I go to sleep at night and on random idle times. It’s freaking toxic especially now that I am preparing for a major board exam. And that’s the instance where I became profoundly aware of what I was lacking, or rather, of what I have lost. I lost my peace of mind.

I kind of known and identified that the solution to the problem was to get myself out from all the guessing and the darkness of not knowing. I have to have myself tested. Then I can move forward from there. Yet despite the brilliance of that idea, I still deferred the process, maybe because deep inside I’m afraid to finally know and to confront the issue if ever I was in fact infected by the virus. Today, I realized that the choice of delaying did more bad than good. Honestly I think, the anxiety got even worse, for even the simple trigger words would jumpstart the scary and creative train of thoughts. And they would go on and on.

So telling myself that I’m sick of it, of having to be afraid of what’s still unknown, I decided once and for all to have myself tested. I was faking courage at first until I actually had it. Whatever the result may be, I told myself that I’d deal with it. If I tested negative, then good. If it’s the other, it would still be good for early detection has its advantages, like having ideas as to how to manage the infection and learn ways to live like I’m not dying.

After everything though, I think the point now is to not ever make a trade-off between temporary pleasure and long term peace of mind. I know all my pleadings and prayers have been heard by the universe when I tested negative. But things could have been different. The HIV scare was really a wakeup call. Right now I feel like I’m given a fresh start. To take this hard earned learning with me, i.e. that peace of mind is gold. Deciding from now on with that in consideration; that again, peace of mind is gold. 

Truly this has been a helluva learning experience, one that’s so petrifying and life-threatening it changed me. For this, despite the intense nerves that it made me feel, I am finding myself thankful. If it wasn’t for it, maybe I’d continue on doing the stupid stuff that I did, until it’s too late to actually learn and change. Judgment is indeed a gift. So cheers to a new start and a new life. Yes, I feel reborn. 

Finally, I am thankful that this HIV concern is being taken seriously now by the government and NGOs alike. I am thankful that HIV testing is for free, available and accessible. To tell everyone the truth, I just googled “free hiv testing in Manila” then took the LRT alone to get to the testing center. Done and dusted. Yes, it’s easy as ABC! So I’m encouraging you, if ever this article speaks to you, to free yourself from that cloud hanging above your head. Be tested. Be aware. Be safe. After which, do your part, spread the awareness, like this post for all its intent and content, is trying to achieve.

"13 Reasons" Got Me Like...

Credit: Tumblr. The Importance Of Netflix's Adaptation Of 13 Reasons Why

I’ve been watching “13 Reasons Why” recently. I started reading the novel way back then but stopped along the middle. I read to feel good, and suicide isn’t exactly a theme that you read about to achieve that. Yet because of all the buzz, I started to watch the TV adaptation expecting to stop again along the way like I did with the book. But Dylan Minnette, (yes, him) is so charming for his own good that I was hooked. He made his character interesting enough for me to go on watching. Now after everything, I caught myself actually reflecting over it. Here’s what I’ve got.

Credit: trailer-13-reasons-why-800x410.jpg.imgw.1280.1280.

Sometimes the things that consume us, the bad and earthly kinds of things, well, we just can’t beat them. We can try all we want, with all our might, and almost consciously will them to stop to the point of frustration. Despite everything, we just can’t. For there are messed up things going on in our heads, on our entire psyche even, like an uncontrollable car speeding up with a dysfunctional pedal for its brake. So we resort to hitting and bumping off things on our paths in an attempt to stop it, consequently inflicting damages on ourselves and our surroundings. It would cease to go on for a while, and yet the car, so durable as it is manufactured by a factory founded and forged by the strongest of elements, would stubbornly still start when triggered by the ignition, as if it has its mind of its own. Then the destructive cycle would be on its course again, piling up damages until there’s nothing orderly to disrupt anymore – until we are no more. No one can argue that this is not a weakness, for clearly it’s a manifestation of a lack, not the absence, of strength. And this is the kind of weakness that one cannot conquer alone by himself. This is the no-man-is-an-island type of problem. We all need help. I need help. The hope though is, for help to be always available and accessible, and for everyone to not just go ask, but to actively demand it when they need one. 

This reflection is also a bit influenced by my thoughts over watching the film, “Manchester by the Sea.” But just a little bit. Striking scene on the film though is the character of Casey Affleck telling the character of Lucas Hedges the line “I can’t beat it.” The memories of the tragedy, well, he can’t just tie them up and set them aside. So he has to stay away from Manchester. The memories are too powerful, he just can’t beat them. And I think it didn’t make him look weak. It made him human. Similar thoughts ring true over “13 Reasons Why.” Hannah Baker also can’t beat them. The thirteen reasons, I mean. So she did what she did, however morally wrong it was.

gretchenrubin.com

So this summer vacation, I said that I will read a lot of novels. First because I like reading for pleasure. If I haven’t told you yet, I am a hedonist. So there I will read because it gives me pleasure. I just want to clarify that I am not the kind of reader who’s into books with profound themes and discussing deep concepts. I didn’t even have the courage to turn the first page of anything that is said to be classic. I will not read them unless I take a literature class and it’s a required reading. Not that I’m a shallow of a person and I can’t fathom the message that the books are trying to send across. It’s just that I read for pleasure. I am an escapist reader you may say. I read to somehow make myself forget of the shits of life. I just know that these classics are classic for certain reasons, i.e. there heavy and timeless themes. There, I am a reader alright. But I am not that quite of a reader to know of the legends of literature. 

Not that the things I read are of not much of good. I think I can pride myself enough to know what a goof story and what is not. I can identify, good prose from what is terrible. I can assess if one’s characterization is justifiable or not. To tell you the truth I have read a few books and stop it halfway because for sure it’s not getting any better, at least for my taste.

I’ve been reading a lot of Meg Cabot lately. She just gets the formula to a perfect light-natured story right. :)