Time Bomb

An orphan and a sickly child was what I was labelled. I remember being told stories since I was young about how I was in and out of hospital since I was born. My biological mother died when I was only less than a year old. My father apparently didn't care for me for as long as he was alive but it seemed that he died just a few months after my mother.

I grew up with mother's side of the family. My grandmother and aunt really did the best they could. When I was eight I began living fully with my aunt who was the only member of the family that had the financial means to take in an orphaned child. We moved to a different country and my health improved significantly.

Road to Discovery

At the age of 10, I started feeling a sharp pain in my abdomen when I was at school. After throwing up several times I was sent to the nurses office. At home my aunt tried home remedies to try to calm my tummy but to no effect. After throwing up all night and barely getting any sleep my aunt took me to the hospital at dawn. We had to wait for hours in the line of the public hospital. Once it was my turn the doctors could not diagnose me. So they hospitalized me for further investigation.

That night they found out that I had a raptured appendix and needed urgent surgery however the pediatrician was working at a different hospital that day. So they to take me to the other public hospital in an ambulance. When we go there more test had to be done to confirm the diagnosis. Once it was confirmed a long 7 hours of surgery proceeded. The doctor told my aunt that I was very lucky in most cases a raptured appendix would have killed me within hours. After two months of recovery at the hospital I was sent home and given a date to return for a check up.

The Day Everything Changed

I was seating in the doctors office with my aunt and uncle (who was visiting for the holidays) and as the doctor spoke I can't really remember how I felt at the time. Things only really became clear to me when I was sitting in my fourth grade classroom and we were learning about HIV/AIDS. Knowing my status at the time I felt so uncomfortable learning about my status from my textbooks. The information in the textbook at the time was filled with gloom due to lack of better knowledge when they were written. Then I realized that I was different.

I started labelling myself, creating walls, isolating and building a cage to protect myself. Rejection of my new circumstance kicked in. I asked God what I had done to deserve such a cruel life. Orphaned and feeling like an outcast with my own 'family' was more than I could bare. Now this!!! I began to lose my desire to live. I would ask God to take away my life daily. I couldn't deal with this. I was too young. My family accepted me and did not treat me any different because of my status but I had accumulated enough trauma from constantly being reminded that I owed my life to them. That if it wasn't for them I wouldn't be were I am. Being constantly teased, ridiculed and reminded of my not so appealing looks had made me insecure enough. I didn't need HIV to ruin the rest of my life.

Self Rejection

If I am going to be honest with you I don't think I have fully accepted my status till this day. Outside of my aunt, uncle and 3 cousin's I lived with, I have only shared my status with one friend and a guy I was interested in (who is my friend now). I am too afraid of being reject and having my self-esteem kicked down. My rejection of my status has lead me to kill the possibility of ever getting married or having kids. For some reason I cannot imagine a world were I find a man who will accept me and where I would bring children into this world and be alive long enough to take care of them. I don't want any child let alone my own to ever have to go through the things I went through.

Sorry my story is long but I have never really had the platform to talk about my status with anyone besides my therapist. It always felt like people wouldn't understand. My desire to cease to exist is still burning inside of me. I am so tired of life and all the health both physical and mental issues that I am convinced that I will better off in a grave. Resting In Peace. That is why I entitle my story as Time Bomb because that is how I always felt about it. HIV a bomb that waiting for my time to run out so it can explode.