Infected by Sugar Mummy at 17 – The Inspirational Journey of a HIV Positive Young Man (Part 3)

My dad was very disappointed in me. He used to call me an aids victim (he still does till date). To some extent I knew where my dad was coming from having lost three relatives to AIDS (and now learning that I too was HIV positive…) It was a blow to him and he saw me as a walking corpse.

Levi Knowles. Image/Courtesy

The thought of having taken me through school and the only thing I brought home was HIV for him was too much. He frustrated me and I felt so worthless. I never got any form of encouragement from my family. I was denied food for a very long time because to them I had no use. They were waiting for the day I would drop dead. They openly discriminated me and it did hurt a lot.

Facing reality

When I could not take any more of the mistreatment from my family, I decided to move out. And the only option I had at that time was to go back to my ex lover and see whether we could make up and start living together again.

But that’s when reality checked in and gave me a real hard slap on my face.

She would treat me like a piece of rag. She would bring random men to the house and sleep on our bed and have sex with them as I watch.

I didn’t have an option than stomach all what she was doing. She would call me names and make me feel useless.

She was practically driving me nuts and I almost slipped into depression.I felt it was too much. I had fallen from the frying pan to the fire and the fire was burning me like no one’s business.

Street life

I decided to move out and went to a friend’s place. He took me in and we would share responsibilities of the house.

This friend of mine introduced me to street life ( prostitution) and drugs.

I went into it with all that I had. After all life didn’t make any sense and I was looking for an easy way to die. I had reached the end of my road.

I also wanted to revenge and infect others the way I was infected. I went on a revenge spree. I wanted to infect as many people as possible.

A thorn that makes me feel guilty

Before I knew it I was already a drug addict.

Sex work was my thing and I couldn’t get out of it no matter how I tried! I would engage in drugs like cocaine, weed, alcohol and all manner of drugs.

Attempting suicide

At one time while still on the street life I decided to commit suicide. Been suicidal thrice but they all failed terribly 😂

My first suicide attempt I had some antibiotics in the house. I decided to take like 20 of them but I didn’t die. Amazingly God wasn’t done with me yet!

I didn’t die. I only had minor reaction with my system.

So I continued whoring on the streets, having sex with random strangers and I was still not on medication.

I somehow hoped that one day I would sleep and never wake up and just die. I had nothing to live for.

Life wasn’t that good nor bad. At least I would afford to put food on the table and dress well. I went on with life throwing all caution to the air. I attempted suicide three times in vain. I hated my life. I hated people. I hated the very breath that I took. I wished death would just come and wash away my life. Life had become a very tough punishment. It was no longer a gift to cherish. Rather it was a problem to solve.

Starting medication

Eventually, I started my medication and it wasn’t that easy. I had moments where I would skip depending with the work I was doing (S.W) and with the client I was attending to. Hard drugs also contributed pretty much to my (treatment) drug defaulting.

Fighting rejection

At only 19 years old I didn’t see a reason to live or fight. What hurt me the most was to see my family rejecting me and having nothing to do with me.

But I thank God I have this amazing sister who loves and understands me and together with mum they would protect me from dad. I still don’t know what I did to my dad. Up to date he has never softened his heart towards me.

But I believe in miracles and they do happen,

Someday sometime I wanna hug him tight and assure him that this tiny virus doesn’t define who I am.

My life was becoming harder by the day. I started feeling the pill burden. I would refuse to take my medication. I defaulted for a period of two years. I hated the whole idea of being on drugs for the rest of my life. I just couldn’t bring myself to living that reality. I felt it was not my portion.

Adapted from Ndungu Nyoro… 

 

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