How would you react if you were a world class violinist and were diagnosed with HIV/ADIS.
Then 56 days after that news the “Music Industry” came and smashed your violin and told you that you could never play again before an audience to earn a living. You could never do the one thing that brought you joy. If you did you would be sued or worse ...
Do you think you might fall into a bit of a depression? Do you think you might drink / drug yourself to ease the pain? Do you think you would fade away and die a broken resentful shell of a man? What would YOU do?
Well … welcome to my life!
Fourteen years ago on Sept 19th I picked up a voice mail in my office It was my doctor telling me I had full blown AIDS. I was at the top of my career as with 2 decades as a senior scietist with a major oil company. I was recognized an world class expert. I had frequent offers from other companies and had just received a “retention bonus” when management heard a credible rumor. My true skill was in linking leading edge research people and ideas with business problems. I was a pragmatic practitioner. I loved my job – it was my passion and bliss.
But my health was failing. I went from 200 lbs to 130 in less than a year. I had to take a month off to recover from a bout of shingles. I had a series of colds, flus, ear nose and throat infections. I was diagnosed with diabetes. I had outbreaks of herpes on my face and hands. Water cooler gossip buzzed that, as a single man, possibly gay and obviously very ill, I might have AIDS. A new manager put me on notice that I needed to decrease my absenteeism.
I had anonymously asked Human Resources if the corp had an “AIDS in the Workplace Policy”. No was the answer and why was I asking? Who was I? I was absolutely terrified that if I disclosed I would be terminated.
Then one day I was abruptly terminated. My first thought was “I am doomed … I will die homeless on the street with no medical benefits”. I informed the “termination consultant” of my recent diagnosis and he just laughed and told me to start packing my boxes. My second thought was suicide – it seemed like the only solution. I told the consultant and again he laughed and told me to hurry up.
I called the company doctor, and left a voice mail that I had just been diagnosed with AIDS, was in the process of being terminated and intended to commit suicide. I left my office with the consultant in tow and was waiting for the elevator when she showed up – the two of them rode the elevator down with me. Not a word was spoken (ie “let’s stop and talk about this situation”). I felt like they both wanted me to kill myself as soon as possible. I bolted through the lobby and across the street in full midday traffic. It was a miracle that I was not run over.
I flagged a taxi with no idea where I was going. I had him circle back to the foot of a bridge. I was going to jump off.
Then a miracle! A neighborhood friend in his seventies was coming the other way. He saw clearly that I was in distress and convinced me to stop and come with him to our neighbourhood pub and talk this over. Meanwhile the doc had contacted the police and they were searching for me. They went to my home and told my mother what was happening – she was terrified. I had not told her about me having AIDS but she knew now. She found me at the pub and I told her I was safe. Then I called the police and they stopped their search. I got very drunk that night.
I hired an employment lawyer and I was temporarily reinstated on short term disability pending proof that I had AIDS. The company lawyer denied that the company had any knowledge of my medical condition and gave us a list of all the reasons why I was terminated – I was shocked at how suddenly I had become a “terrible employee” despite the recent retention bonus. This is when the symptoms of PTSD started to emerge. I had never had suicidal thoughts before – now they were constant. It seemed like the only way to express my deep hurt and feeling of betrayal. To make matters worse my former workmates were told not to associate with me. My lawyer was told to tell me not to contact my friends or my benefits would be cut off. I had been identified as a Pariah / Persona Non Grata.
My girlfriend left me a month later and so did my tight group of high school buddies. With AIDS I had to be gay (I am not) and this group of friends were very homophobic. I shared my suicidal thoughts with my lawyer and she said she would no longer represent me. She never did meet me face to face. Latter she would sue me for her fees – she had promised that they would come out of a “settlement”. I was on my own. No lawyers would take the case - the corp "was too big”. In a personal conversation with their laywer he told me that the corp would fight me to the Supreme Court and cut me off from medical benefits if I tried. “Take disability and shut up or we will squash you like a bug”. Furthermore he told me I would not be allowed to ever return to the workplace as the corp would not place staff at risk of being infected by me. He hinted that I had been blacklisted in the Oil Patch but was clear that I would be sued if I tried to use any on my knowledge with another company.
So … I was totally alone, abandoned by a company I loved, abandoned by my friends because they though I must be gay, feared because I might infect someone simply by sneezing or touching. I had been told I would or could never practice my passion. I made several serious attempts at suicide – somehow I survived. I felt that I could not even succeed at that.
I had only had suicide ideas one or twice as a young adult in university when a flunked several course on term. Now they came the minute I felt threatened. It would feel like I was going to "get fired" again. It might be something really trivia.
Then I found crack cocaine. It was the only thing that stopped the PTSD and the suicidal thoughts (drinking just made them worse).
Seven years of crack cocaine addiction followed. I lost everything – my health worsened, I lost my self-respect and all my savings and ended up financially, emotionally and spiritually bankrupt. At the end I was homeless and living at homeless shelter. Somehow I managed to continue taking my HIV meds and the virus was held at bay.
I was at my “bottom”. I made one more suicide attempt, a massive mixture of cocaine, morphine and alcohol. I woke up in intensive care and was eventually transferred to a mental health ward. It was then that I became aware that a power greater than myself was somehow keeping me alive. That there was something in this universe that still loved me – a shunned pariah, ostracized by society – that maybe, just maybe, there was a unknown purpose for my life.
That was the beginning of my turn around. I have eight years of recovery with a handful of slips. Each one tied to and anniversary of the termination of a related trigger. A few close calls with suicide but with a quick return to sobriety. I have rebuild quite a nice life. Money is tight but I get by.
Two years ago I got into an emotionally abusive relationship with a woman with (guess what) a borderline PD and/or cPTSD. That really messed me up all over again. She would "split" frequently and run - it felt like getting "fired" each time. Finally she did a midnight move back to her husband (she had told me she was divorced). The 1 year r/s felt like 10. I am still recovering from the trauma bond a year later.
Now my corporate termination anniversary is coming up and I am really scared.
I have never been officially diagnosed. I have seen quite a few doctors and counselors but they all seem reluctant to say I have PTSD. I feel shamed by many. "Just get over it - life isn't fair stuff". I would love to but it feels like it is deep inside me. Something in me feels that I need to find ONE professional that will finally say "you got PTSD ... bad".
Is this just crazy? Would "validation" give me a foundation to really start healing? I am tired of living like this. And a "new" feeling is starting to arise ... Grief. I have never really grieved my losses. Again I can't find a therapist to help me. They look at me like I want to be a victim. Maybe I do.
Any thoughts or wisdom out there?
Noles
Then 56 days after that news the “Music Industry” came and smashed your violin and told you that you could never play again before an audience to earn a living. You could never do the one thing that brought you joy. If you did you would be sued or worse ...
Do you think you might fall into a bit of a depression? Do you think you might drink / drug yourself to ease the pain? Do you think you would fade away and die a broken resentful shell of a man? What would YOU do?
Well … welcome to my life!
Fourteen years ago on Sept 19th I picked up a voice mail in my office It was my doctor telling me I had full blown AIDS. I was at the top of my career as with 2 decades as a senior scietist with a major oil company. I was recognized an world class expert. I had frequent offers from other companies and had just received a “retention bonus” when management heard a credible rumor. My true skill was in linking leading edge research people and ideas with business problems. I was a pragmatic practitioner. I loved my job – it was my passion and bliss.
But my health was failing. I went from 200 lbs to 130 in less than a year. I had to take a month off to recover from a bout of shingles. I had a series of colds, flus, ear nose and throat infections. I was diagnosed with diabetes. I had outbreaks of herpes on my face and hands. Water cooler gossip buzzed that, as a single man, possibly gay and obviously very ill, I might have AIDS. A new manager put me on notice that I needed to decrease my absenteeism.
I had anonymously asked Human Resources if the corp had an “AIDS in the Workplace Policy”. No was the answer and why was I asking? Who was I? I was absolutely terrified that if I disclosed I would be terminated.
Then one day I was abruptly terminated. My first thought was “I am doomed … I will die homeless on the street with no medical benefits”. I informed the “termination consultant” of my recent diagnosis and he just laughed and told me to start packing my boxes. My second thought was suicide – it seemed like the only solution. I told the consultant and again he laughed and told me to hurry up.
I called the company doctor, and left a voice mail that I had just been diagnosed with AIDS, was in the process of being terminated and intended to commit suicide. I left my office with the consultant in tow and was waiting for the elevator when she showed up – the two of them rode the elevator down with me. Not a word was spoken (ie “let’s stop and talk about this situation”). I felt like they both wanted me to kill myself as soon as possible. I bolted through the lobby and across the street in full midday traffic. It was a miracle that I was not run over.
I flagged a taxi with no idea where I was going. I had him circle back to the foot of a bridge. I was going to jump off.
Then a miracle! A neighborhood friend in his seventies was coming the other way. He saw clearly that I was in distress and convinced me to stop and come with him to our neighbourhood pub and talk this over. Meanwhile the doc had contacted the police and they were searching for me. They went to my home and told my mother what was happening – she was terrified. I had not told her about me having AIDS but she knew now. She found me at the pub and I told her I was safe. Then I called the police and they stopped their search. I got very drunk that night.
I hired an employment lawyer and I was temporarily reinstated on short term disability pending proof that I had AIDS. The company lawyer denied that the company had any knowledge of my medical condition and gave us a list of all the reasons why I was terminated – I was shocked at how suddenly I had become a “terrible employee” despite the recent retention bonus. This is when the symptoms of PTSD started to emerge. I had never had suicidal thoughts before – now they were constant. It seemed like the only way to express my deep hurt and feeling of betrayal. To make matters worse my former workmates were told not to associate with me. My lawyer was told to tell me not to contact my friends or my benefits would be cut off. I had been identified as a Pariah / Persona Non Grata.
My girlfriend left me a month later and so did my tight group of high school buddies. With AIDS I had to be gay (I am not) and this group of friends were very homophobic. I shared my suicidal thoughts with my lawyer and she said she would no longer represent me. She never did meet me face to face. Latter she would sue me for her fees – she had promised that they would come out of a “settlement”. I was on my own. No lawyers would take the case - the corp "was too big”. In a personal conversation with their laywer he told me that the corp would fight me to the Supreme Court and cut me off from medical benefits if I tried. “Take disability and shut up or we will squash you like a bug”. Furthermore he told me I would not be allowed to ever return to the workplace as the corp would not place staff at risk of being infected by me. He hinted that I had been blacklisted in the Oil Patch but was clear that I would be sued if I tried to use any on my knowledge with another company.
So … I was totally alone, abandoned by a company I loved, abandoned by my friends because they though I must be gay, feared because I might infect someone simply by sneezing or touching. I had been told I would or could never practice my passion. I made several serious attempts at suicide – somehow I survived. I felt that I could not even succeed at that.
I had only had suicide ideas one or twice as a young adult in university when a flunked several course on term. Now they came the minute I felt threatened. It would feel like I was going to "get fired" again. It might be something really trivia.
Then I found crack cocaine. It was the only thing that stopped the PTSD and the suicidal thoughts (drinking just made them worse).
Seven years of crack cocaine addiction followed. I lost everything – my health worsened, I lost my self-respect and all my savings and ended up financially, emotionally and spiritually bankrupt. At the end I was homeless and living at homeless shelter. Somehow I managed to continue taking my HIV meds and the virus was held at bay.
I was at my “bottom”. I made one more suicide attempt, a massive mixture of cocaine, morphine and alcohol. I woke up in intensive care and was eventually transferred to a mental health ward. It was then that I became aware that a power greater than myself was somehow keeping me alive. That there was something in this universe that still loved me – a shunned pariah, ostracized by society – that maybe, just maybe, there was a unknown purpose for my life.
That was the beginning of my turn around. I have eight years of recovery with a handful of slips. Each one tied to and anniversary of the termination of a related trigger. A few close calls with suicide but with a quick return to sobriety. I have rebuild quite a nice life. Money is tight but I get by.
Two years ago I got into an emotionally abusive relationship with a woman with (guess what) a borderline PD and/or cPTSD. That really messed me up all over again. She would "split" frequently and run - it felt like getting "fired" each time. Finally she did a midnight move back to her husband (she had told me she was divorced). The 1 year r/s felt like 10. I am still recovering from the trauma bond a year later.
Now my corporate termination anniversary is coming up and I am really scared.
I have never been officially diagnosed. I have seen quite a few doctors and counselors but they all seem reluctant to say I have PTSD. I feel shamed by many. "Just get over it - life isn't fair stuff". I would love to but it feels like it is deep inside me. Something in me feels that I need to find ONE professional that will finally say "you got PTSD ... bad".
Is this just crazy? Would "validation" give me a foundation to really start healing? I am tired of living like this. And a "new" feeling is starting to arise ... Grief. I have never really grieved my losses. Again I can't find a therapist to help me. They look at me like I want to be a victim. Maybe I do.
Any thoughts or wisdom out there?
Noles
