The peace that comes with forgiveness

It has taken four years but I have found inner peace. Peace from a demon called HIV. Knowing my blood is contaminated with the HI virus was one thing. But being HIV positive and Muslim was another. Islam forbids premarital sex, an act of which I was guilty. I went against the very teaching of my faith, for a man I thought cared for me. For a man I thought would convert for me.

It has taken four years but I have found inner peace. Peace from a demon called HIV. Knowing my blood is contaminated with the HI virus was one thing. But being HIV positive and Muslim was another. Islam forbids premarital sex, an act of which I was guilty. I went against the very teaching of my faith, for a man I thought cared for me. For a man I thought would convert for me.

My nightmare started in 1998. I lost weight, had dark rings around my eyes. I was constantly exhausted, with plenty of mouth ulcers. I thought it was stress-related, starting with my first permanent job after matric. My doctor did every test imaginable, with the exception of an HIV test. An HIV test did not cross my mind. I had no reason to suspect HIV. I only had one partner. I could not say the same for my partner.

For two years until 2000 the doctor could not find anything wrong with me. My doctor eventually referred me to a gynaecologist, thinking it may have been a problem with my ovaries. My appointment was for the 23 September 2000.

Early the Saturday morning my mother and I went to the gynaecologist and waited until it was my turn. The gynaecologist called me in with my mother, not considering it may be confidential. He asked me all sorts of awkward questions and that in front of my mother I had no choice but to answer as honestly as possible.

After answering a string of personal questions, he did a barrage of tests, one of which was an HIV test. He did not inform me he was doing an HIV test, neither did he ask my permission. After extracting several vials of blood, I was to return within a week to retrieve my results.

The next Saturday I went back for my results. Suddenly the gynaecologist did not want my mother to be present. At that very moment I had a nauseating feeling in my stomach. In the consulting room he had several documents in his hand. He wanted me to confirm my name before giving the results. Before the doctor said a word I knew it was HIV.

I blurted it out before he did: “I am HIV positive.” He asked how I knew this was what he wanted to say. I replied: “I had always suspected I was not the only woman in my boyfriend’s life.”

Anthony (not his real name) and I met in 1996. He was older than me by 20 years. We dated for one year and split up during 1997 because of suspicion from my side. I had heard several rumours of his “glamour boy” lifestyle.

During the time we split up, I sought spiritual solitude. In March 1998, he pursued me again, promising me he had changed. My stupidity and lust got the better of me. I gave in to his charm without thinking for one second of insisting that he get an HIV test.

During our time apart I had not been involved in another relationship. I had shown no symptoms up until three months after we got back together in 1998. My parents were not happy at all with the relationship. We had endless fights and arguments. The gap between my parents and I grew bigger.

When I received my first results, the gynaecologist insisted on a second test. He took more blood and told me to phone within two to three days for the second confirmation. When I left the consultation room, I was beside myself. My mother asked what the verdict was. I had no choice but to lie to her.

How was I to tell my mother I had just found out I had HIV? While doing the shopping and driving back home, I constantly trembled. So many things went through my mind. I got home and immediately phoned Anthony. He sounded devastated by the news. I’m not sure if that was an act or if it was real.

Those few days were the longest days of my life. I was filled with fear, anger, resentment, but most of all hatred towards myself. How could I be so stupid? How could I be so gullible? How could I ever trust a man again? Instantly I lost my faith in God.

Three days later I phoned for the second set of results. The results were definitely positive. I was devastated. It felt as if nothing mattered. I had let God down. I was not worthy of God’s love nor God’s forgiveness. I felt an emptiness so unbearable, it hurt just to think of it.

Everyday I questioned where it possibly came from, a strange form of denial. What did I do to deserve this? Yet I knew the answer to that. What was I going to tell my family and more important, how was I going to do this?

Day by day things deteriorated between Anthony and I. I blamed him at every occasion possible. Hatred became the order of the day. I asked myself time and time again why I remained in the relationship. (Anthony and I are no longer involved in a relationship).

The answer that came to my mind was not wanting to be alone, but most of all “I love Anthony.” Why else did I ignore all the warning signs?

Since discovering my status in 2000, each year I have taken one more member of my family into my confidence. First, my sister, who now lives in California, then my other sister, then my brother, and finally my parents. Although I did it one by one, each occasion proved to be a difficult encounter.

Each time I witnessed the sadness in their eyes, a part of me died within. How was to explain that I may never get married, that I will not have children? Just thinking of the possibility haunted me, it gave me endless nightmares. Will I ever be able to trust a man again? Was this my destiny?

Breaking the news to my parents was the hardest of all. I expected my dad to react the worst. Yet as God had it, my dad handled it better than my mother. He accepted the news without question and loved me unconditionally. My mother was very emotional. Seeing her in that state made me wish I could reverse time.

This year will be the fourth year living with my status. The biggest lesson I have learned during this time is that “everybody is HIV positive until tested negative. We are either affected or infected.”

Finding peace has been my biggest gift this year. I am now able to live with the reality of dying; dying of an illness whose stigma is so huge. I prayed everyday for guidance, peace, faith, strength, a positive attitude and spiritual solitude.

By empowering myself through knowledge I have been able to gain perspective again, to know there is a better life after HIV. Finding out everything possible about HIV was essential. My eating habits had to change, exercise became an important factor. I also developed a keen interest in meditation. Meditation helps with the spiritual wellbeing which assists in coping with HIV. Reading motivational books strengthened me spiritually and helped me feel the peace and tranquility I now feel.

Using vitamins and alternative medication such as the African Potato and Sutherlandia tends to help the body against the ongoing war. Not forgetting the Garlic, Olive Oil and Lemon Juice, this combination seems to keep the CD4 levels high.

What has made inner peace possible? I received the most remarkable gift of all – a gift beyond human capacity. A gift that only comes from God: the gift of eternal forgiveness.

Below are some of the books I’ve read that have assisted me thus far with the struggle against HIV, and have helped me find peace within myself making it possible for me to come out with my status:

Positive Health by Neil Orr/ David Patient
The Healer Inside You by Neil Orr/ David Patient
A Rough Guide to HIV
Mind Power into the 21st Century by John Kehoe
The Journey by Brandon Bays as well as CD’s
Seven Masters One Path by John Selby

This article is part of a special series of articles produced for the Sixteen Days of Activism Against Gender Violence Campaign.

This article is part of the GEM Opinion and Commentary Service that provides views and perspectives on current events.

janine@genderlinks.org.za for more information.