A dark time...

So I promised a friend that one day I'd share my story... 5yrs on and I made that same promise to someone else.... So I guess its finally time to share a period in time that changed my life forever... And hell, what better way than via the internet right?

Before I start, I just want to say... that this has already invoked some extremely vivid and raw emotions. I'm gonna write it down as it comes to me and for the sake of whoever (if anyone) who reads this I'll spare some of the gorier details.
It should probably also be noted that just a few months before this, my parents divorced and my Dad was involved in an accident where he hit and killed a man riding his bike... So I was already dealing with some major family issues!

It all started innocently enough with an invite to a sleep over party at a friends house. We began by playing a somewhat amusing game of hide and seek and then the drinks started to flow.
As the night went on, I took a shining to a particular guy in attendance. For the sake of privacy, I'll call him Jim.
So anyways, Jim and I hit it off and after a night of drinks and flirting we decided that while everyone else was asleep we'd partake in some nocturnal activities of our own.
And so began a night of reckless abandonment... which ended the next morning when he left without saying goodbye never to be heard from again.

All was good, until two weeks later when I was talking to a friend of mine who just so happened to know Jim. It was now that I found out that Jim had HIV... it was also now that I realised that I had been stupid enough to not use protection and my 3 months in hell began.

My initial reaction was one of total disbelief, followed shortly after by uncontrollable tears and evacuating the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
I began to ring my friends... at 2am I guess I wasn't all that surprised that noone answered.
Having no idea what else to do, I got in my car and drove... First to an ex lovers house and then to my closest friends. I got to their doorsteps but couldn't bring myself to knock.
Who was I to interrupt them in their sleep for a stupid mistake that I had made?

And so, I returned home. I can't think of a time when I felt more alone...
The next day was even worse, I had no choice but to face up to the reality of what I had done.
I rang a local clinic to arrange a HIV test, but they weren't able to help (and me being me, didn't want to tell them the urgency behind my request -that would just be creating a fuss, and who wants to fuss over me?).
So I hung up, and without thinking dialled home. Thanks to the wonders of Caller ID, Mum answered with a cheery 'How's things?' -or something to that effect at least.
I tried my best to put on a brave front, I was her rock... How could I possibly crumble when she needed me? But no sooner than I began to speak, my voice began to change -you know that strange kinda whimpering noise you make when you're fighting back tears?
But I couldn't stop myself and began to cry. Between blubbering howls, I managed to explain what I'd done.
I could tell she was totally thrown by what I'd told her. I was normally such a careful person, and in one night of drunken passion I'd managed to possibly sign my own death warrant.
She was torn because due to my location, there was nothing she could do... except try to calm me down.
She convinced me that what I needed to do was ring the clinic back and explain my story to them in the hopes that they could help me out. I knew she was right, so I ended the call to Mum and redialled the clinic...

Needless to say the poor receptionist at the clinic copped more of my tears. And booked me in for the soonest possible time she could... 3 days away.
Meanwhile, my friends started to call me back wondering why on earth I was calling them at 2am the night before... Strangely enough, the first was my ex.
I explained to him that I'd done something stupid at the party (he was there too) and he told me to come round and see him so we could talk it through face to face.

I did just that, and he could see as soon as I got there that something was terribly wrong.
And so, I re-told my story once more, and I was a little surprised when he picked up the phone and arranged an appointment for me to see a local GP friend of his... Not in 3 days time, but that afternoon.
Without asking, he came with me, I guess he knew that I needed someone there with me.
Sitting in the waiting room at the doctors was terrible... I've never felt so ashamed of myself in my life.

Finally, my name was called... and the two of us went in. My ex did the explaining and the doctor did what he needed to and handed me a pathology slip. Ordering 1 x HIV and Hep B screening due to 'risky behaviour'. Those two little words stood out so vividly, and to this day I can still see them scrawled across the page in bright red ink...
In my naivety, I thought that would be it. But as I was about to leave the Doc explained that this was just an initial test, and then handed me a second slip for me to use in 3 months time when I would find out for sure.

I left my ex at this point and went straight to the pathology centre. Had my blood taken and went back home to contemplate my actions some more.
My friend called me soon after I arrived and asked what I'd been trying to call him for.
I told him, and as all good friends do he arrived on my doorstep with booze in hand about 20mins later.

My memories of the rest of the night are somewhat hazy... (not because it happened 5yrs ago, more due to the copious amounts of alcohol I consumed). -Not the best remedy for facing one's problems, but it certainly made it easy to forget them... if only for one night.

To make things worse, at the time all this went on, I was in the middle of one of my Nursing placements. Having already taken 2 days off to get over the initial shock of things, I had to return. And thought that I'd be fine, and I was... right up until I had to give a patient a blood transfusion.
It took all my will to fight back my tears and convince myself that it didn't matter that my blood was unclean... that it wasn't my blood going into the patient and there was no way for to contaminate it. I fought through the rest of my week and put on a brave face until the end of my rounds.
I also accidentally managed to stab myself with a needle during this time (thankfully it was clean as I stabbed myself while uncapping it!) -Again, I freaked in a big way. When the nurse who was supervising me went to help me out I all but ran from the room... I didn't want my tainted blood touching anyone. Nor did I want to have to explain why.

I eventually got my results back and found out I was HIV negative - not that that was any real surprise, but still provided a massive sense of relief when I heard those words. Even if the real test was still to come.

And so life went on, and I did my best to put it to the back of my mind. I buried myself in my studies in an effort to forget that for the next 3 months I was dealing with the possibility of a HIV infection.
Early on I swore to myself that if my result turned out to be positive that I would end my life to prevent any chance of me ever infecting anybody and putting them through what I had to face.
I don't think I ever would have really done that, but it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Afterall, why should I risk putting someone else at danger because of my stupid mistake?

During this time, I met a boy... and to begin with things were perfect. He knew what my situation was and didn't care, it just meant we had to be a little more careful than usual.
We began spending a lot of time with each other and were dating soon after.
All was good, or so it seemed...
Now began the darkest times of my life.

After about a month, the two of us and a mutual friend decided that we would all move in to a house together. This was great, I was in love (or thought I was) and it all just fell into place nicely.
Everything began to change though... the night that we moved in my bf told me he didn't want to use protection during sex. For obvious reasons, I was against this. So he told me that we would be together forever, that I should stop being stupid and that chances are I didn't have HIV. After some arguing, and him bringing me to tears... he did it anyway.
You would think that after being raped by your boyfriend that you would be smart enough to walk away right?
Wrong... I stayed, and let him have what he wanted. - It was easier for me to just do what he wanted because all my energy was going into fighting my inner turmoil about what was to come with that second blood test.

I stopped attending uni, stopped talking to my friends and family... for the next 3 months I progressively became a prisoner within my own home. With him as my warden, and no hope of parole.
And he was so subtle about all of this, I was in love... and to wound up in my own problems to realise exactly what he was doing to me.
So for the next few months I endured the torrent of abuse he threw at me. Losing my self-confidence, my innocence and everything I'd ever worked towards in the process.

The two of us broke up at the beginning of August, and remained living together we even slept in the same bed still. A HUGE mistake on my part, as within a week he had a new boyfriend. He gave me a week's grace to get over him and deal with my feelings before he let Joel stay the night. Hearing them in the next room tore my heart in two, and so I did what I do best and wrote him a letter.
The reply? Get over it, you agreed to a week and I did that for you. It's for the best anyway, it'll help you move on if you see me with another guy.

Finally, the day came... it was the end of August when I pulled out the pathology slip for the final time.
I was told to call the GP clinic in a weeks time for my results... ironically... the same day as my 22nd birthday.
That week went so slowly, and I've never dreaded the 7th of September so much.

But my birthday arrived, along with a feeling of utter dread and fear. It took everything I had to pick up the phone, I explained to the receptionist what I was calling for and she put me on hold for what seemed like hours.
Finally, I spoke to the doctor and I heard the magic words.... 'You're HIV negative'
I can't explain the feeling of relief I felt on hearing those words. I hung up the phone and was left speechless...
I walked into my lounge room and upon Russ (the now ex) asking what my result was, I began to cry.
He thought that meant the worst... for him, I guess eventually it did for it signified his loss of control over me. For me, they were tears of pure joy. I'd made a mistake, and clearly someone figured I'd learnt my lesson because they let me off easy.

To convey what I felt at that moment in time is impossible to put in words, but suffice to say it was a birthday to remember and was the best birthday present I ever got.

You would think that this would make my day impossible to ruin... sadly, Russ found a way.
That evening, an old high school friend of mine called out of the blue to tell me he was in town. So I did what anyone would do, and went to meet him for coffee.
A fairly innocent thing to do, and all was good until I returned home. Russ asked where I had been and knowing that my friend was also an ex of his, I hesitated to tell him and prepared myself for the worst.
On finding out that I had seen A, Russ flew into a fit of rage. Pushed me around and began to go on what could only be called a psychotic rant. He threatened to kill me and I actually believed that he would had our housemate not been there to calm him down.

I ran out of the house and stayed the night with my friend and his girlfriend. I woke to find a hastily scrawled letter pinned to my car, saying over and over 'How could I do this to him'.
Returning home only when I knew Russ wasn't there. I grabbed what I could and drove home to Mum's.
From here I began to collect my thoughts and arrange what needed to be done.
I disconnected every service in the house that was in my name, and as a result recieved a guilt ridden phone call from my Russ' Mum. I didn't have the heart to tell her what her son had done to me over the last few months so I pretended to listen to what she had to say.

I moved back all of my stuff home with the help of the few friend's I had left after repacking everything because Russ had gone through it and taken what he wanted (I found most of it stashed away in various places through out the house). I returned at the end of that day to pick up the one thing I had left behind, my goldfish. When I walked into my room to get it I couldn't believe what I saw... a pile of gravel and shattered pieces of glass and the lifeless body of my fish surrounded by a patch of wet carpet.
All this because I had the phone disconnected... I wanted to cry but refused to give him the satisfaction. I had also left the watch my parents gave me for my 16th birthday in the bathroom, but it wasn't there. I asked Russ if he'd seen it and got the response of 'No idea'. So I turned to Liza (our housemate) and pleaded with her to call me if she found it. - It was returned to me in one piece the next day... funny that.

But the trouble didn't stop here, the now ex made life hell for me at every given opportunity...
He refused to have me signed off our lease and I received threats at all hours of the night.

I ignored this, he'd already cost me so much... I had failed my semester at uni because I'd stopped attending classes, I'd lost my friends and those friends who I'd introduced him to had been turned against me, my house, my money and worst of all... my independence and my self esteem.
All this went on for a few months, and after spending a night with friends I returned to my car to find my car tyres slashed... I'd finally had enough.
It was time for the law to intervene. Unfortunately, there was no way I could prove that my ex had slashed them and so the Police did nothing.
It wasn't until Christmas day that year that I was finally able to prove what a monster he was.
He rang me to demand of all things a sex toy back. I calmly explained that I didn't have them and asked him to please stop calling me.
This fell on deaf ears, and after ignoring a further 4 calls from him he was stupid enough to leave me a message on my voice mail.

I finally had my smoking gun, something to show that I wasn't making things up... A threat from him saved for all the world to hear.

Things were finally looking up for me, so after new years had passed I rang the courts to begin proceedings for applying for an intervention order. I was determined once and for all that I would rid myself of him!

And so it began... the legal process which I jokingly referred to as 'gay divorce'.
I chose to have my case heard in my home town, something which took great courage on my part considering most of the cases that day were related to drug possession.
But all was good, I had two close friends to help me deal with the day and whatever it threw at me.
My ex had the case adjourned and so put off my closure for another month.

The second day of court arrived, my parents weren't there for their own reasons and nor were my friends. All I had was my lawyer... Hardly a comforting thought considering my ex rocked up with a full entourage of family and friends. So again I was alone.
Again, I faltered and didn't have the courage to fight. With noone there to give me support I ran scared and agreed to give up on my restraining order if he agreed to sign an undertaking to the court (same deal as an intervention order, just without the legal recompense).

And so ended my horror year... I went from having everything to nothing in the period of a few short months.
Actually, there's a bit more to it than that, but right now I think I've gone on enough and to be honest its getting a bit much for me to write anymore.

His actions left me numb, how could someone who said he loved me do such terrible things?
I lost the ability to feel any emotion for years after and pushed away alot of people in an effort to stop myself from being harmed again.
And until recently, I thought that the person I was before all this started had long since died and was never to return despite how much I fought for it to happen.

It's taken all this time for me to build my life back to something of what it was. I have great friends, have re-enrolled back at uni and am almost finished a Masters degree. Best of all, my emotions have returned. You have no idea what its like to feel happiness until it's taken from you...