I’m a 60 year old gay man living in rural Somerset. I was diagnosed in the early 90s when HIV was still regarded as a death sentence and partly because I was the carer for a sicker partner, I was encouraged to give up my career and survive my remaining days on state benefits.

In those 15 years or so I’ve been on an incredible personal journey. Not all of it was bad.

But does it get any easier? In some ways yes, as with time we learn to adjust, to accept limitations, acquire assertiveness etc, but in some other ways it gets harder because new sets of problems arise.

I’m lucky that, in spite of my relative isolation from any gay or HIV community, I’ve built up a network of over 30 positive friends and acquaintances across the country, all with whom I communicate in some form at least once a month. These people are crucial to my well being, and are becoming even more so. Thank God for them and the internet where I found most of them.

In the earlier stages of my HIV life, I was fortunate to benefit from lots of professional support. Around that time there were groups like Body Positive, and more THT networks than now but I didn’t need to access them as I had my own local charity here in the south west. Based from there was a wonderful man called Peter who would visit or phone at least month to check on my well-being. I guess he would be called a Client worker. Via him and the charity he worked for I also was offered various forms of counselling and a range of complimentary therapies like shiatsu. All the people involved in my welfare had as much empathy as a HIV-negative person can possibly have and they helped me survive those roller coaster years of ill health before I went on to anti-HIV treatment in 2002.

Ok, so anti-HIV treatment gave me my physical life back, I was no longer just hanging around waiting to die, with no energy to run or fight, and in that sense life became easier. But as we all know the lon- term effects of the medications are uncertain and unresearched. We are guinea pigs and some of the earlier drugs we consumed are barely used now because they are seen to be the causes of other problems. And although I’ve been on the same easy three drug regime of just two pills a day for a number of years a new set of worries are still preventing me from living a stress-free life.

Strangely, I feel different to how I felt  back in the 90s. Back then I just felt like a victim. Now I don’t have fear and anger but instead a kind of inverted pride, and like any disabled person,  I’m so used to my condition it feels almost normal and I forget that most people I meet are not also HIV-positive. I’m almost an HIV ‘anorak’ bore!

But I’m moving into the old age bracket now, and a new set of issues are worrying me. I’m not too concerned about my reduced libido, rising cholesterol levels, bone density problems, cardio risks, even lipodystrophy; I can blame most them on natural aging. My big fear now is money and this isn’t really to do with the current uncertain economic climate.

In the early 90s, a whole generation of us were awarded DLA under a Special Rules arrangement as we were expected to die within about three years, but in the last twelve months, probably quite correctly, we are under review. Many of us will lose some of these benefits, if not all. For me, at sixty, after years of retired security suddenly I have to go job-seeking again. After 15 years of not being on the workface it is daunting and although I’ve various hefty qualifications including a Master’s Degree, they are now outdated and I’ll still need re-training. And I don’t have any career confidence.

I’m also learning that although companies and individuals have been HIV educated to some degree and theoretically the stigma should be less, when push comes to shove very few people are going to want to employ a 60 year old man with regular diarrhoea who is going to want to take time off frequently and regularly not only for hospital appointments, but to just manage his illness. And let’s be honest, how many of us are going to be brave or full-hardy enough to put HIV-positive on our CVs?

So now, in spite of years looking at my own mortality I suddenly feel even more frightened and need more support than even before. Now is the time I need those monthly visits from the wonderful Peter.