Writing 4 The Soul: Accepting My Mother is Dying from HIV

Ever have one of those days were you wake up and your whole life has change? I've had my share of life changing day, actually more than I would like. One I will never forget is the day I found out my mother has HIV. I was fifteen years old my mother and I were arguing over something not important enough for me to even remember now. In the burst of anger my mother shouts, "That’s why I have HIV." I replied back to her "I don't believe you." That's when she threw some papers and showed me what I call the "drawer". A dresser draw dedicated to medicine. I don't remember exactly what the papers read but it must have said something to make me believe her. I ran out the room and went to myself and just cried.
I was not one of those teenagers that did not know or accept HIV/AIDS. My mother always raised me to learn and never to judge people situations. So I knew a lot about how HIV was, so I thought. I knew how you could contract the virus, and all the mechanics of it. HIV is the Human immunodeficiency virus a retrovirus that can lead to acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS), a condition in humans in which the immune system begins to fail, leading to life-threatening opportunistic infections. Infection with HIV occurs by the transfer of blood, semen, vaginal fluid, pre-ejaculate, or breast milk. Within these bodily fluids, HIV is present as both free virus particles and virus within infected immune cells. The four major routes of transmission are unprotected sexual intercourse, contaminated needles, breast milk, and transmission from an infected mother to her baby at birth. One thing I knew nothing about it was the emotional factor. I have gone through Kübler-Ross model of five discrete stages. There was denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
I am now soon to be twenty-three, it has been eight years and an odd month since I found out my mother has HIV. I would say I am somewhere in between depression and acceptance stage. After years of turbulence between my mother and I, I have found out my mother has had HIV for 14 years that she knows of. I have watched this disease tear my mother apart physically and mentally. Watching this has torn me apart. I have finally accepted that my mother is dying of HIV and I cannot change that. I can change how I react and feel about it. I can educate people on what HIV/AIDS really does physically and mentally to both the carrier and their loved ones.

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