Here’s a rough guide on how to handle HIV news

If you remember, I am on a sabbatical. And, from the look of things, it is going to take a long while before I return – mind, body and soul – to the HIV trenches.

But as much I am on leave, there are things I just can’t take leave from. I keep on bumping on to them.

Recently, I received numerous emails from readers and other clients who have been diagnosed with HIV. Their concerns centre on the usual post-HIV seroconversion issues.

“What do I do?” “Where do I go from here, because it seems like I’m stuck here?” “I feel completely lost, please help.” Some have expressed complete desperation.

I once travelled down this dark valley of the shadow of death. It’s a place that you don’t wish even for your enemy. And it’s for these calls for help, which remind me of my own calls for help, that I temporarily ditch my sabbatical.

First things

I don’t know how to put it, but, for starters, and this is important, know that you are not in this situation because you are a lesser person. Like we say, HIV is not a respecter of persons.

I have friends on both ends of the socioeconomic spectrum who are HIV-positive. What I’m trying to say? HIV infects people, period.

Number two; don’t spend so much time agonising in bed, and getting yourself bedridden because of worry. Get out of bed and look for something to do.

You better take this step as soon as possible. I know HIV hits some through voices that tell them that it’s all over. Silence such voices by thinking and speaking positive thoughts.

If it’s the first time you are hearing about HIV as you do an HIV test, chances are what the counsellor is saying will get through one ear and out the other.

I don’t know why this happens, but it happens anyway. If you can cry, cry. It’s a way of healing. Don’t let anybody tell you to stop being a cry baby. Crying helps a lot. However, choose the right place and people to release the waterworks to. That is, if you must.

If you are a stoic, then you are safe from red eyes and sniffles. If you can’t help it, cry, but don’t let this be the main business.

Remember this: Unless you know exactly when you got infected, the day you were tested is not likely the day you got infected. So you better could have cried the day you got infected and not the day you were tested.

Talking point

You must know you can’t manage alone. Run to your strengths. For some of us, it is God. If possible, call for an urgent special meeting with God. It’s got to be just the two of you. No pastor. Just God and you.

Tell God exactly how you feel. Please note that I’m not talking about prayer. There comes a time in life when circumstances drive you to talk to God on one-to-one.

Remember the biblical Hannah whom the priest, Eli, thought was drunk because her issues led her to mumble to God? That’s what I’m talking about. There’s a time for talking with God, and a time for prayer.

After all is said, don’t leave without an answer. An answer isn’t necessarily something audible, but something in your inner person.

I don’t know how you deal with your God. I can only tell you how I deal with mine. Here’s what I know: you can tell when you have an answer or way forward by an inner calmness; what the Scripture calls, “peace that surpasses human understanding”.

Information

Next, look for information. Information is power. Look for people who will not judge you. Better yet, look for people like Asunta. HIV vets. There are many Asuntas around, donning all sorts of inconspicuous hats.

Still, be very careful who you tell. You must answer the following questions before you disclose to anyone: Who? Why? When? How? What? If you can’t answer these Ws and H, know that you are not yet ready to drive on the Disclosure Highway. As I say many times, first deal with it first before you look for the next person to tell.

Whether or not you tell, lose everything but not your head. Convince your mind, body and soul that there is a way, even if you’re going to fake it till you hack it.