7.21.2011

Risky



I’m a doomed fucking whore! I kept repeating as I walked out of the bathhouse. What am I doing to myself? Am I trying to catch HIV? Am I a bug chaser? Do I really want to live with HIV? Can I handle being the HIV+ activist? Or will I keep it a secret and keep repeating the same mistake again?

I had encounters where I failed to use a condom or to tell my partner to do so. Now, it’s different. I let them do it. I fuck them without it. Those moments are very exciting, very dangerous. You see it coming, you know you’re going to bareback, but you just let it happen.

I recently discovered how turned on this sense of danger makes me feel. Maybe it started as a part of my experimentation phase. I wanted to try everything, from SM to sex work. Bareback is a big taboo to me. Is this why I enjoy breaking it so much?

I am aware of the consequences. Too aware maybe. But how conscious is conscious? Why do I seek those risky behaviors? Do I really seek or I just let it happen? Does it make a difference?

I have always heard that engaging in self harm means a sense of lack of self worth. Do I feel that I deserve to be punished? To be unhappy? Did I get this nihilistic?

I know I feel many times that life is purposeless. However, I have always felt that we have to go through it to the end, courageously, trying to make the best out of it. What do my struggles mean then? Why do I carry all those causes on my back? Should I turn to complete apathy then?

Am I actually miserable? Am I a wreck? Is my conviction that love is unreal and unattainable makes indulge in those behaviors? Did I completely lose hope in a better life? But I know better.

Human interaction is one of my most important values, but I’m acutely disillusioned about it. I know it never lasts. I know I am not the kind that takes these things for granted. Love is for simple minded fools, not for the doomed like me.

Despite everything, I still love life. I want to see more. I still want to be great. I want to meet more people. I am not appeased yet. Why do I ruin my life then? Why do I damage my health so much? I know it’s the thing you can count on the most as you grow older.

The most dangerous thing about risky behavior (in case you don’t embrace, which I don’t) is that effect it has on your self image. It’s a vicious cycle. I hate myself so I risk my body, and I ended hating myself more. Do I need help? Do I believe in it? And if I do, will I be able to find proper services?

I still love myself, I know. I wouldn’t have been this concerned if I wasn’t. This is my only hope.