By: Discolemonade

If I had of known what the day was going to bring to me that day, my emotions when I woke up in the morning may have been quite different than what they were. When I woke up I felt bright and energetic. I was only slightly annoyed that it still seemed to be freezing out despite the days on the calendar swiftly breezing by.

Now, before I begin, I feel I must give a little bit of background. I had been meaning to get tested for quite awhile now. One might ask why I waited so long and to that, I’m afraid I couldn’t give a straight answer. Was it that it was just simply inconvenient? Was it that I didn’t think I was at risk? Was it that I didn’t know exactly what to expect?

I think a very big part of it was that deep down I was terrified of what I might find if I did get tested. I would like to say that I was above this and knew to get tested right away, regardless of my fears, because we all know it is better to know sooner rather than later. But, for the sake of honestly, I must tell the truth here. Frankly, it was easier not to know! It was much easier to blissfully go through life talking yourself into the fact that you “probably didn’t have it”.

The problem is, even though with all the facts I thought I was ok, in the end I still really didn’t know. At any point it isn’t just about finding out so you can get treatment for something like HIV or Hep C immediately, but it is crucial for individuals to get tested so that it will stop those people from unknowingly passing the virus onto someone else, and so the cycle continues.

As an outreach worker, a huge part of what I do is to encourage others to get tested! The fact that I hadn’t been tested myself had been weighing on my conscience for quite some time now. I knew I was going to do it, but the question was just when and how.

Luckily, when I went into Our Place (40 Baker St.) that day, I had almost forgotten that recently there had been a nurse from Public Health coming in on Mondays to do testing for some things including HIV and the Hep ABCs (as well as other sexuality transmitted infections). It was a lucky coincidence that I was there that day. I had forgotten until a good friend of mine came from around the back corner with a big grin on his face yelling “I’m clean, I’m clean!” and throwing his hands up in the air. I immediately knew what he meant, and my hands already began to get clammy. I knew this would be the moment that I had to do what I had been putting off for much too long already.

I asked my friend if he was finished and if I could go in next. He told me that I could go and immediately, a girlfriend of mine offered to come along for moral support, if I was comfortable of course. She was someone I had known for a long time and somebody I trusted. Although I am mostly the kind of person who prefers to do things alone, in that moment I felt incredibly grateful to have somebody there holding my hand, literally.

I entered a small room with a small table and three chairs. The nurse sat in one and I sat down across from her as my friend took her seat next to me. I was more nervous than I thought I would be. I answered a few routine questions, gave her my name etc. She asked me if I had any reason to believe I could be at risk. I answered yes. My mind immediately flew to all of the times I hadn’t been as careful as I should have been. “What’s done is done and now it’s up to fate..” I told myself.

I decided to get tested for Hep A, B, C, HIV, and Syphilis. Those were tests I could do by blood, and even though I only really wanted to get tested for Hep C and HIV, I figured while I was here I may as well throw em’ all in! There were two tests, the first was a rapid test for HIV. I can’t remember the exact explanation of exactly how it works. (If you wanted to find out for sure, go down and get tested yourself and I’m sure the nurse would be more than happy to explain it to you! Hehe).

In this rapid HIV test, the nurse pricked my index finger at the top with a small needle. It didn’t hurt. She then began a technique called “milking” in which she slowly massaged my finger in an upwards motion, collecting the blood with a small dropper. It was not a stressful process at all. She then dropped a bit of my blood into a small dish that was filled with a certain kind of chemical. I can’t remember if it changed colors or if it was a “two dots appear” kind of deal, but I remember it being similar to a pregnancy test. If one thing happens, you’re good, if the other thing happens, you’re whole world is about to get rocked.

Discolemonade 

I had to hit my rock bottom before I was really ready to change. Without going into too much detail, I got into some trouble with the cops. I took off to Toronto with two of my friends, a scheme which after three days of destroying ourselves landed us in the back of a paddy wagon. Those three days will never leave me. They are a part of me and who I am. I still remember the feeling of the handcuffs wrapped tightly around my wrists. I remember the crappy bologna sandwich they gave me to eat while I was in the holding cell. I remember listening to my friend knocking against the cell wall beside me, as if to say “I’m here, it’s gonna be ok”. It’s funny, for years I learned to blur things out. I have entire chunks of my life that are nothing but fuzzy blurs, but I remember everything about that day: the smells, things people said, even what I was wearing. That night is the night everything changed.

To make a long story short, I had to remove myself from my life and everyone I knew in order to start over. I moved back to Kitchener (my hometown) to try to start a new life. It was a lonely start. I had friends from when I had grown up there, but none of them had gone down quite the same path as I had. When I came back I was a completely different person, and so were they. So I had a lot of time to think. I wanted to be sober, but it was hard. I hated myself and I felt like I had nothing to work towards. Every bone in my body was sad and marinated in anger, lots of anger. It was a good thing I didn’t know where to get it in that city, because if it I did, I probably would have.

I did make one friend in Kitchener though, very early in my recovery. He was a recovering addict as well, but he was far along in his recovery. As if fate had just dropped him into my lap, he saw me standing on the street one day and decided to strike up a conversation with me. He must have seen that I really needed somebody in that moment. He must have seen something in me that was screaming for help. He was the only person that didn’t say something about the weird clothes I was wearing. He just asked me who I was, he told me his story. We started going out for coffee, smoking cigarettes and talking for hours. It was never a romantic love, he was my guardian angel. Sometimes even now, I wonder if he was even real. He taught me to look people in the eye when I talked to them, with pride and confidence, instead of down at my feet. He taught me to laugh, and mean it. He really taught me how to love myself again. And most importantly- he taught me that I could be sober and actually be happy.

Skipping ahead a few years, I am here, now. I managed to get my sh!t together and actually finish school. I have been sober for five years now. It was a fight though. I didn’t stop doing drugs and BAM, things got better just like that. I am still, even now, picking up the pieces of a life I had so elegantly broken. It’s a work in progress. Life has taught me so many things. I have grown spiritually; I have gained knowledge and confidence in myself. The empty feeling is still there sometimes, it will always be the monkey on my back. But I try to fill it with positive things instead of destructive things. I fill it with music, art, dancing, sewing, painting, friendship, learning, challenging. I am not a different person. I am many people, meshed into one body.

The reason I wanted to do the youth outreach program was because I feel like the only reason I didn’t get some kind of health problem from the way I mistreated my body was simply by miracle. I figure if I can help even one person be more informed about the health risks out there from “risk-taking” behavior (as they call it) then I’ll do it. I feel like many young people, especially girls, don’t know how to take charge of their own sexual behaviors, and even don’t feel they have a RIGHT to protect their own body because on some level, they feel they deserve it. I also feel this way when it comes to injection drug use, or even risky tattoos/piercings. It may be that some people are JUST being unsafe because they truly don’t care. However, I firmly believe if people were fully informed, and truly knew more about Hep C and HIV, the odds of more people being protected and careful would drastically rise, bringing those bad numbers down. Because in the end, most choices you make are reversible. Whoever you decide to become in your life will constantly be changing. But safety comes first. Do what you want to do, be who you are, whoever that may be. All people have a right to live healthy and safe. If people are informed and given the means to protect themselves from these purely preventable illnesses, then what we will have to be worrying about will not be if are we healthy and safe, it will simply be who we choose to be in the rest of our lives.

Discolemonade 

Hello. A little bit about me.

I live in Guelph Ontario. I’ve lived here happily for seventeen years.

Like anyone in the community I’ve been through struggles and pains anyone can relate to.

I’m happily devoting time to share with you my knowledge about drug addiction, HIV awareness and Hep C. I myself have walked through the doors of the clinics to get tested for STI’s. I’ll be truthful. I was scared sh!tless.

My history of child abuse and psychological abuse really put me into a reality I wanted to escape from. My mistakes in life, I’ve learned from. Today I’m a loving father living in a caring community that supports all beings.

Not ever have I used a syringe on myself. I’ve been around those who have. High off the drugs I preferred. I can relate to that escape feeling. The rush! The world as you know it lies not only as a reality but a fantasy. Who wouldn’t like to take that ride? I would do it all the time if I could. Today my daughter is my first priority. Man, If given a chance to go back, I would. No doubt about it!

A story I would like to share. This woman that I’ve known of had a big heroin addiction. She walked the streets like a god. Having this new boyfriend of hers, she became pregnant in time. "This was not expected” I heard her say quietly, “What should I do?” It was hard because she knew that the heroin will affect the baby inside of her. Imagine that! You can tell that for weeks she tried to clean up her act. Over time she couldn’t resist but to take another blast.

About five months into the pregnancy she had a miscarriage. I was in her presence when she came from the hospital. She was in tears. “I didn’t mean to do this” she said in sorrow. The so called man she was talking to put her down even more. “Those damn drugs, you did this to yourself!” He said with anger. She cried more.

I sat and spoke to her. She said her boyfriend skipped town. I felt he couldn’t live up to the challenge. “Why didn’t you use protection?” I told her. She replied, “it feels better.” I sort of turned a cheek and smiled. I told her “it feels better huh? Try having your boyfriend wrapped up and using a vibrator while you do it.” She looked and smiled at me while clearing the tears from her eyes. “Thank you Myangel20, you know how to make a person feel better.” “Don’t worry, I get a rush from it.” I said in laughter.

This is what ACG has opened me up to. Writing stories and poems that can help your fantasies and wild rides be safe. You’ll hear from me soon with another story to tell. Keep plugged in. You’re in for a ride!

Myangel20

 By: Don't Panic

If you would have told me five years ago what I am doing with my life now, I would have laughed in your face. I was hell bent on being out of control. So sure that I would just party my life away, and why couldn't I? I remember waking up one March morning, my throat on fire, dark circles under my eyes, and a headache that no amount of over the counter pills could cure. It was at the end of a very eventful winter, living in a small house with 8 or so other people, having tonsillitis at least 4 times before Christmas, and generally not giving a sh!t about life. I realized then, that life was not what I wanted it to be.

I was sick and tired of being sick and tired!

All through school people told me I could do great things with my life. They said I could be a lawyer, a doctor, a teacher ect.,but none of those things interested me. I didn't like young kids, I hated cops and the court system, and I definitely couldn't handle dealing with other peoples' health problems from a western medicine standpoint.

So I thought about all of the people that I admired, all the people that had made a difference in my life. I had definitely realized at that point that being a whiskey drinker wasn't a great career choice, and I would not work at sh!tty restaurants and convenience stores forever.

I thought about my street mom. The strongest women I've ever met to this day. She spends her days talking to the youth, helping them figure out what they're looking for, feeding the masses, looking out for us, and most importantly… loving us. I thought about my school counselor, the great conversations we had and the things she helped me overcome.

I knew that I wanted to make a difference in someone's life, the way my mentors have made a difference in mine.

So it was decided. I would be a social worker.

For awhile I lingered in this awkward stage where I couldn't go to college yet and I wasn't done being young yet. One of Guelph's youth housing programs started a peer based outreach program and I decided to get involved.

Immediately I knew that I wanted to be an outreach worker. Learning how to make referrals, talking to youth, going to workshops about all the community service providers, it was a dream job come true. But all good things must come to an end, and so did the peer to lead program.

When ACG found me and offered me a position doing peer outreach for the Hep-tonic program, I was thrilled. Finally a chance to put all my knowledge into practice! Ever since I started It's been the most rewarding choice I've made. Going out and talking to people on the street, one on one, providing support and handing out snacks, educating people on how they can protect themselves, talking with other peers about better ways to reach people, it has been fantastic.

All I hope is that in my journey I can make a difference in someone life, the way a few people made a lasting impression on mine.

Don't Panic

By: Discolemonade

This will be the first blog I have ever written, that has been for anything other than personal venting on social networking sites. Although it feels a little strange, I have always felt more comfortable writing than I ever have speaking aloud. When I write out my thoughts, the paper doesn’t interrupt, the page does not give off body language that it is not listening, it just lets you… go. I don’t even know who will be reading this, but I kind of like that feeling, it makes me feel freer. Without wanting to bore anyone with useless knowledge (which I am full of), I suppose the first stone on which to step would be to tell my story. Well, the quick version. Though I have been breathing only a small handful of years, I have lived a very, very long life.

I grew up in a seemingly normal family. My parents were divorced. Boo-hoo. Whose parents are really together anymore? When I find families whose parents are still happily married I think to myself, “how retro.” So I guess when I say I grew up in a normal family that would be entirely correct. There were custody battles, there was addiction, there was abuse, there was fighting, there were doors being slammed and tears being shed. So yeah, pretty normal standard stuff. At least that’s what I always thought.

I was always the most messed up, but always the least willing to admit it. I mastered the art of shoving things down, burying them really deep so nobody could find them, not even me. I know how to hide what I’m really feeling, like nobody’s business. That really worked for me for awhile. I just really wanted to be a normal kid, to feel normal and to do normal things. But after awhile, normal teenage activities stopped being able to distract me from my sadness and pain. I needed something stronger. I needed something that would REALLY distract me. I couldn’t get that feeling out of me. I just always felt empty and didn’t know why. It was ALWAYS there, that empty feeling. So, I began seeking out distractions.

These distractions can come from anywhere. It can be drugs, it can be music, it can be sex, it can even be cheetos, or an obsession with china dolls. I chose drugs. I don’t even remember at what point I really fully gave in to that world and said, “I’m gonna do this”, but I did. I fell hard and fast, as if I had sold my soul to the devil. I gave up everything I ever cared about. I quickly gave up anything that had ever mattered to me in search of the magical substance that would take away that empty feeling I had carried for so many years.

Ironically, plunging myself in to a reality I wasn’t prepared to handle only gave me more memories and confusing emotions which made the empty feeling grow at an exponential rate. There are so many things inside my head I wish I hadn’t seen. I put myself in a lot of dangerous situations. Unsafe living conditions, stuff with cops, I put my health at risk and my rights at risk. I did many things I am ashamed of, and I let other people do things that I feel I should have stopped them from doing. I carry a lot of weight on my shoulders for the events which happened during those few years. I put my family through a lot. I almost lost myself completely.

The good news is, I met some pretty amazing people along the way. I found a new kind of family. I found comfort in finding people that were like me. We never talked about the empty feeling, but I sensed they had experienced something similar. I had found a place in the world where I was never judged for being weird. In fact, I was embraced for it. I have been through a lot with these people. They have saved me in ways of which they are probably not even aware of. I feel this way also about many of the old staff at “Change Now”, the youth drop in center/shelter that unexpectedly closed down in June 2007. That place was like my second home during some of my darkest days. There was a sense of love there, a sense of care, and for those of us who weren’t getting it anywhere else, there was always a dinner at 6.

to be continued...

By: Discolemonade 

I would like to take this opportunity to introduce ACG's newest blog section "Youth Corner" These blogs will feature today's youth. They will be talking about drugs, addiction, outreach, testing, youth on the streets, poverty and every day struggles. Our first bloggers for this section are, "Discolemonade" and "Don't Panic" I really think you will like reading their posts. Enjoy!

Cassandra Sheppard
Hepatitis C Outreach Coordinator