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    HIV/Aids - The Truth!

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    OK, this is going to be hard, but this is a subject very close to myself and Darrell, it haunted our entire life, left a big stain on our relationship and has still never been resolved; it needs to be, in order for closure. People will react to this in different ways. It will hurt some terribly, but this is something I am doing in order to find answers!

    In 1993, whilst at University, I met my partner before Darrell.  I wasn't looking for a relationship but this guy had other ideas.  I did not want anything long term, least of all at that point.  We slept together once, and I went back to University life, it was a really hard time for me.  HIV had reared its head, through unprotected sex with numerous guys, I actually can't tell you how many.  Now that one-night stand was getting strange, he was hanging around outside my student digs all the time.  I had only just come to terms with my sexuality, and he would not leave me alone.  The people I was living with were getting concerned, and I was missing lectures and if you have ever felt trapped, then you know how I was feeling!

    This is when things went wrong,  I had had enough.  I had no idea what to do, so I told him I had HIV, hoping he would just leave me alone; well that didn't happen.  The stalking got worse, so I caved in.  I was going for a test at the time, which fell by the wayside and  I suppose in my mind I had it and convinced myself and others I had it. To people today, it would sound terrible, but I had no idea, just how bad things would get.  He will hate me for this, but I don't care.  I never loved him or wanted to be with him, he was obsessive, controlling and not the person people thought he was.

    We were together for about eighteen months., when in 1995 I met Darrell, left my ex partner and headed for Australia.  This was real love, from the most honest person I have ever met!  After about three months in Australia, the ex phoned.  I was told to sit down; he had had an HIV test and was positive,  I had passed it on and was in bits.  I left Darrell behind to return to The UK, it was the honourable thing to do.  No need for an HIV test now, I had it anyway and was s*it scared.  I am a bit of a coward on the quiet, so just blocked it out, and accepted it without question.  You have to understand, back then it was a death sentence!

    My ex remained friends for a number of years, whilst I was with Darrell.  Not sure why the friendship ended, but it did, and we parted ways.  Darrell and I always had safe sex, I certainly didn't want him catching it.  Let me just say we have a Liberal sex life in the past, not all the time, but some of the time!

    We were at a party at my Aunts house in Portsmouth.  To be honest they are equally Liberal.  One thing led to another, and we ended up having unsafe sex with my Cousins gay mate. We had a great time, twice I think and thought no more of it.  Then came the call. 'Luke you have given him HIV;'  s*it, not my cousins mate.  Once again I was a mess and Darrell went for a test, as he did on a regular basis, he came back negative.

    I'm not sure of the exact circumstances afterwards, but I told him the truth about what happened, and he told me to get a test ASAP.  I had no choice!  The test came back negative; as you can imagine I was shocked.  I had spent the last fifteen years having safe sex with the man I loved, because my ex told me I had given him HIV, and I was too scared to get a test.  Our whole life had just got turned upside down.  15 Years with Darrell, living a lie, I was devastated.

    I spoke to a mutual friend of mine and my ex-partners, I was so angry, psychotic if you like.  He admitted that he had lied to me, to get me back from Australia and end our relationship.  There were others involved in the deception, people I knew well and when his plan didn't work, he carried it on as some sort of warped revenge plan.  Now I believe in vengeance, but nothing like this.

    I have tried to contact him to find out the truth, but to no avail.  I have no idea if he has HIV or not, I was told not, but I need the truth.  If you are reading this, contact.  That god awful chapter will never be closed, until I have an explanation.  OK, you got me well and good, fine I except that, you just owe me the truth finally.  Yes it still remains with me, It was the reason I continued to have safe sex, because point of fact, you totally f*cked my head up.  I can't come to terms with what happened to Darrell for FIFTEEN years; tell the truth for the first time in your life.  Everyone else has told me it was a lie, now you need to tell me.

    Well confession time over, I wait for the abuse.  Do your worst.  If it helps I suffered a lot more, and Darrell the most.  Just another Chapter in MY F*CKED UP LIFE!

    Finally, to those of you who spread lies about my status, look at yourselves first.  In time, you may, just may be a victim yourself!

    FIN
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    Bid For Charity

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    It’s time to move on with the memories from that memorable time in my life.  I would like to auction this painting for Bipolar Support, which this website will also support through Google Adsense.  If you wish to place a bid, on this water colour I had commissioned in 2000, please use the reply box below.  It's time to let go and pass it on to someone else.  

    If it wasn't for The Bipolar Support Helpline, things may well have been very different for me.  I have more than enough memories of that time!  Who knows, it may well be worth thousands of pounds in the future!
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    The Mansion!

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    From late 1994, to 1995, for about six months Myself and a group of people lived in a large house, in Bitterne Park; we called it the Mansion.  To be honest I think that  name was rather tongue in cheek.  It may well have been a beautiful house at one stage, it was nothing but, when we moved in. The house was built in about 1901 and was Mock Tudor in its outward appearance. There was a large sweeping drive, up to the entrance, `with balcony above.  There was a huge lounge, a dance room, a 1970s kitchen, bright blue with mirrored tiles.  There were also five bedrooms, with a second kitchen upstairs and a lift.  No longer working, but still there.

    A group of us moved in,  all gay. At the time I was about 24 years old and had just finished University.  None of us were working, and we were just enjoying life.  Actually a little more than enjoying, we were experiencing life in its full glory, to excess, without exception!

    We moved in, in 1994, it felt a bit like a 'Gay Commune.' I suppose all of us had experienced discrimination at one time or another, and living together as a group of Gay men and women, felt like a good thing to do, sort of safety in numbers if you will. One always starts out with all good intentions, when setting foot on a new adventure. Generally those good intentions, remain just that, good intentions!

    At the time, we had become heavily involved in the Southampton Gay Scene, and all that entailed!  Excess in all areas of our life was usual.  The 1990s on the Scene in Southampton, revolved around drugs and it did seem as though everyone was taking something at one time or another.  Things were strong too, which is probably why I don't remember much about that time.

    If anyone who remembers The Mansion reads this and remembers something different, or something differently, do let me know.  My mind isn't what it used to be!

    It was easy to obtain whatever you wanted back then.  Although when I look back, with a cost of fifteen pounds a pill, and no one working, I have no idea how we afforded to eat and live, let alone sustain such a lifestyle.  When you do ten tablets a night at a cost of fifteen pounds each, on benefits of about ninety pounds a fortnight, you can see there is an immediate discrepancy.  We always managed somehow.  Back then it was amazing how many times ones 'Giro' went missing, through the post, and we had to claim another one.
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    The Magnum Club closed at 2am. We would always go to the club first, hand out fliers or tickets, and from the early hours of the morning onwards, the partying would just continue.  DJ's from The Magnum would play at the house, as well as others from London and beyond.  At its height I guess there were over 300 people in the house, continuing to party into the following week.  Cars used to jam Cobden Avenue, and I remember the Police were called on a number of occasions.  It was a detached house, but due to the amount of traffic, people ended up in neighbours gardens all the time.

    They were funny times.  Climbing into one room, through a cat flap type door, smoke everywhere, no room to sit, people everywhere.  I remember we used my ex-partners 'Gay Times' collection, to do a collage on the lounge wall.  The Landlord was less impressed.  The strange person who used to live in the conservatory, who we never saw.  When he finally left, we found needles, used needles everywhere.  It really was like a scene from 'Train Spotting' in that conservatory. Open tins of rotting food, in fact food we had bought, which this guy had stolen from our kitchen.  Ah the kitchen, used to flood every time we turned the washing machine on.  Tins and packets of food floating around in the mess.  Cooking burgers in the upstairs kitchen,  when the window fell out, smashing through the room below. Blow-drying one's hair so much, as gays do. the fuses blowing constantly! Getting lost in the garden, which was so big and unkempt that it took a day to find one's way home! Finding a room we hadn't discovered before and seeing a ghost, in fact often seeing a ghost.  Those are the only real memories I have of that time, others may have more.  The times always seemed good, though a know from experience, they were not.  One tends to block out the bad!

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    Like all good things, everything has to come to an end, with a Mansion 'Final Party'. In all honesty I do not remember that final one, at all.  We only lived there six months, but they were the most excessive, exorbitant, boundless and self-indulgent times of my life.,  During those six months, I aged rapidly, looked ten times older than I was and looked drawn and haggard, I was exhausted.  In fact, I think every one of us who lived there at least, were scraggy, scrawny and tired!  Six months is not a long time, but when you are constantly partying and recovering,  It is too much.  When I think back, partying for three or four days, with a further three days to recover, we really did not have time, or indeed the energy to work. Our lives had become centred around a time of exuberance, and we lived it every day.  You know the programmes on TV, looking back at certain years, well, I need those to remind me, what I had missed between 1994-5.  I had no idea what was going on in the outside world, nor did I care!
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    The Mansion was boarded up shortly after we had all left.  The place had been flooded at some stage and I know a fire took hold shortly afterwards.  I am glad we were the last people to live there.  Although it was only for a short while, they were times that were more memorable than most of which came before or after.  I remember doing some research on the house, long after we had left.  The last person to live there, before it was turned into an HMO, was a Lady who used to work on the Queen Mary. She became disabled later in life and died through drowning, in a pond at the rear of the garden.  I guess she was the ghost.  By all accounts, she was a party goer in her youth as well.  Different types of parties I'm sure.  

    The memories of that time will always be fond, grow less and less each year, but I am glad I was part of that.  I'm glad that I still get asked about those times, I'm glad, that for all of us who were there, we still continue to talk about, reflect upon and try to replicate those times.  They were probably the last great parties of an era that was excess fuelled, but they were full of happiness and love towards each other, unlike those who pale into comparison today!

    Of course, I also met my current partner Darrell there, so those times have double the significance in my life!

    PARTY ON!
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    It's Grim Up North!

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    During the beginning of the naughties, Darrell and myself bought a number of properties up north.  We bought a holiday home in a village called Sough, near Barnoldswick in Lancashire. It was close to the Yorkshire boarder; the village was tiny. In fact, it was so small, it appeared on very few maps.  It had no shop or pub, but it was quiet and peaceful.  Darrell and I escaped there whenever we could, whilst running the business. 

    We bought the property in 2001.  A lady who worked in our restaurant, suggested we went and looked at a property, on the same road, she lived in. She knew we were looking to buy an investment/holiday home, and thought this house would be perfect. I had bought a similar property a little while back, to let out, not far from Sough.  At the time, property was cheap and easy to come across, so we went to look at it.

    The house was perfect really, so we bought a third house in one year.  Yes I was manic, yes I was OCD, yes I do these things when I am on a high.  It then gave me something else to spend money on.  I could now spend more money doing Clifton Street up, and sure enough I did!

    Up until 2004, Clifton Street was purely a holiday home.  When we left our business, we moved to Southampton, but never considered moving up north.  When I became ill in 2004, Darrell thought it would be the perfect place for us to move to.  It was quiet, ideal for recovery and away from temptation and influences that were not the best to be around. We made the decision, to move lock, stock and barrel, to Lancashire!
    I'm not quite sure how to describe the feeling of leaving one Country and travelling to another.  You know that first initial, WOW, this is so different.  Well that's the feeling I had, every time, every day, always, when I lived there.  It is a completely different world.  The scenery in Lancashire and Yorkshire is beautiful.  Much better than we are used to, down south.  Unable to drive, I would have to walk through fields, dry stone walls and rolling hills, to get to the next village. When I opened my curtains in the morning, all I could see were lush green hills and cows, loads of cows.  If I was seventy years old, I would have been happy as Larry, but I wasn't.

    The area itself, was full of  old cotton mining villages.  Sough was on the outskirts of these industrial areas, areas such as Burnley and Nelson!  It was on the outskirts of Yorkshire and had been in both Counties at one time or another.  Most people liked to think of themselves as Yorkshire men.  It was more desirable, a bit of a snobby thing!

    The people, now what can I say about the people.  Apart from the few  we knew, there was only a brief hello to anyone else in the village.  The majority of those in the there, were old, traditional and anti change.  I remember being told of the day a black couple bought a shop in the nearby village of Earby.  There was such an uproar from the locals, that everyone boycotted the new shop and it was closed within two weeks. When I look at it logically now, I can see that being so close to that BNP stronghold of Burnley, I really shouldn't have been so surprised by the locals actions. Nevertheless, it was unsettling, and not something I was used too.

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    The Northern accent reflects northern nature.  The long-drawn-out sentences, the monotone speech, the extended vowels.  The local people and pace of life was slow, very slow.  There were no jobs in the area.  homeowners were either elderly or second homeowners. Public transport was non-existent and the locals did not like newcomers, especially two gay men, from down South.  For a while it was fine.  We decided to say we were two brothers if asked. We did not want the hassle. I know now that was a mistake.  Of course people found out we were homosexual in the end and it did become uncomfortable, especially for me.

    Darrell was working for The Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, just over the boarder in Yorkshire.  To be honest the wages were not that great at the time, but life was cheaper, we did not have huge rent or mortgage to pay and yes things were less stressful.  Darrell also worked nights, so I spent a lot of time on my own. There were no friends to speak of, and the isolation for both of us became intolerable.  I was getting hassle from the locals about our homosexuality and the friends we did have, had become distant.  It was the wrong area and community for us to live in.  As Southerners, we did not fit in.  The pace of life was far too slow and the people were hard, right wing and racist.  It was time to go.

    We made the decision to leave in 2006 and come back to Southampton.  Our experiment, living up North had been partially successful.  I was well, so after two years we moved back.  I will always miss certain aspects of my time in Lancashire, but would never live there again, It truly is different!  The memories I have, are of recovery and relaxation, but sadly we had very few good times.  We no longer see anyone from that time, which shows more about the misconception that Northerners are far more welcoming, they are not, or rather that is our experience.  The friends we have in Southampton are far and above the best we have had in a long time.  Save the North for your old age, and even then, think twice!
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    'Your dead Nan will pay a visit!'

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    Today I am blogging in bed.  I am really unsure about what to write about what happened yesterday.  When you have Bipolar, people will always read the worst into what you write, judge you and 90% of the time, think you are once again entering another period of instability.  What happened yesterday is the truth, as weird as it seems.  There are people around me most of the time now, so they can be witness to any 'insanity', that may or may not arise. It is a sad fact, that after the last two years, I now have the need to produce proof, for anything that may happen.  If I had to explain this one to my psychiatrist, she would be horrified.  It reminds me of The Princess Diana incident in 2004, which is another story.  

    Here goes!  I was spending the afternoon with a large fury animal, Natalee in a onesie, with matching tail.  Even the cats were scared!  We were having a few beers and were looking for Military style suits for the wedding.  I received a message from someone I know in a professional capacity;  I have always had the utmost respect for her.  The message did not sound like her at all.  She asked if I was well enough to receive a message; yesterday was a great day.  I have turned a corner  and have been in a much better place for the last week, unsure about the reasons for the question, I said all was well.  An apology  was made right at the beginning, for contacting  me, but the lady who was with her, was doing her head in.

    She told me, she was a Medium.  You must bear in mind, I had known her in a professional capacity for about seven years.  She had never told me this before, and probably never would have, except for her current circumstances.
    'Vi???'
    'She wants you to look closer within, to see what matters'
    At this point, I did not understand her at all.  The conversations I have had with her in the past were just not comparable!
    'She keeps showing me a pocket watch, saying time is all you need. Plus, the blue necklace doesn't go!, pearls please!'
    By this time I was totally confused and asked her if she had taken drugs. It was gobbledygook!
    'Nope no drugs! A beautiful lady called "Vi" be it violet or Vivian has been on my case for 3 weeks! Tell him tell him!!! Etc... She's laughing now; I know you know who she is??'
    More confusion than ever, so I gave her a ring!

    My Nan died a few years ago, she was 89, Liverpool Irish, Catholic, feisty, opinionated and in her youth a very glamorous Lady. She had great Christian faith and as a rule, would never believe in those who claimed to be contacted by the dead. Personally, I am agnostic, very spiritual and have seen several Mediums in my time. I have always had an open mind on such matters, but for some reason, I could not get my head around this. Maybe it was because I had known the person in a very different capacity and I could not marry this position with the role of a Medium. I have no idea!
    I spoke on the phone to her for about twenty minutes.  She explained that my Nan had been with her for about three weeks.  She described her perfectly, telling me the perfume she wore, through the smell, that she sensed.  She mentioned a diamond and sapphire necklace.  Wear the pearls, not the diamonds.  I have no idea what that means.  I have racked my brains, but to no avail.  To be honest I thought she was taking the piss by this point!

    Your Nan will visit you tonight, but you have to want to see her.  She described what to do, and I would see her.  'She has a message.'  OK, I was freaked out by now.  If this had come from anyone else, I would say they were trying to put me back into a relapse situation.  This person has no reason to do that, no motive, nothing.  Everything she said would suggest my Nan was there.  When I went to bed last night I took a sedative, refused to believe and passed straight out!

    I have seen a Medium in the past.  A Lady from Salisbury, called Terry Day.  She is a jewellery reader.  In the main she was spot on.  There were one or two questionable things, but that was nothing like this.  Yesterday there were specific things that were too close for comfort.  

    My open mind, does not mean I believe everything I am told, far from it.  What it does mean is I am open to different ways of thinking, and I am willing to listen.  What should one do under these circumstances?  Something inside wants to believe it, but something keeps pulling me back.  When I had my Near Death Experience, I was completely shell shocked at what I saw. It changed my outlook on life, but to an extent you will always dismiss what you can't comprehend.  If one does not understand something, one will always block it out.

    Bipolar is also a major stumbling block.  During my current relapse situation.  I am far more vulnerable, open to suggestion and unable to concentrate and compute information in the same way. People do take advantage of people with a mental illness.  Darrell has drummed this into my head before.  Darrell the biggest sceptic and judge of people I know.  This type of thing would have been dismissed out of hand, which is why I got him to phone the Medium.

    When he got off the phone, he was as white as a sheet.  He said he truly believed my Nan was there, and he needed me to believe it.  He actually became the believer I became the sceptic.  I know I am of sound mind as I write this.  I know I do not have mania.  I have seen and heard things before that for me were very real, but  in reality I am accepting, were part of a damaging Bipolar cycle and did not happen, so my mind is confused on this whole episode.  As I lay here in bed, waiting for my Nan to turn up I feel a total sense of  bewilderment and puzzlement.  My mind has wandered away from my wedding to spiritual matters and that scares me.  I have been in similar situations before, not quite like this, but it has left me in a terrible state.  When my relapse happened, Jason became my carer and was told to protect me from harmful influences.  Is this harmful? Or is it really my Nan wanting to pass on an important message?  I have no answers.  Really I should switch back to reality, but at the moment I don't quite know what reality is any more!

    Thank you to Jay Greaves and Natalee for their patience last night.  It was good to have laughter to detract from all this madness!  It helped loads!
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    Myself, my Grandad Eric and by Nanny Violet, probably taken in 1975. Always in my memories, love you both! x
  • Published on

    Marriage!

    On 22 September 2015  Darrell and me intend to be married, on the same date we met, twenty years before.  At this time, a positive focus is a good thing; the twenty-year anniversary is important, it gives meaning to a day, which should above all, be full of personal significance.  So many people use Wedding Planners and have very little input into their own wedding; that is sad.  Every person there will have left, or are still leaving positive tangible marks in our life and many have suffered or battled in the same way we have.  Close bonds are formed through common experiences.  Many have been with us at difficult times and others have been with us from day one.  There will be family who matter, relations from abroad and friends from College. Sixty-three people, who enriched our relationship, sixty-three people who are important.
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    I have personally never been to a gay wedding.  I like the fact we can choose to have a very personal service; there are no set rules and it's success will be due to its informality and unique structure.  I have chosen two people to sit with me as family -  Sara and Nils.  These two people saved my life literally,  If it wasn't for them I would not be here today. My oldest and dearest friend, Nathan Tasker will be my Escort on the day; someone who cares deeply and is like a brother to me.  My Best Man, Jay Greaves is there because he is someone I deeply care about.  Someone I was told to distrust, yet a person who is the most trustworthy of people I have ever met.  He has been with us through some awful times and stopped the bad from trying to cause harm!

    Marc Archer and Keith Harris - We have known these two for nearly twenty-five years. During the 1990s they had a drag act called the Tampettes.  They are reforming, for our wedding to entertain us and our guests; you can't get more personal than that. That will be a treasured memory, for many years to come. Natalee, the most important woman in our life, has arranged and is taking part in a Burlesque show.  A display of comedic, exotic dancing, that she is even training for.  An arrangement for the day with her friend Loretta Lebonk.

    Mary Mac, who in my opinion the best Drag Artist in the world, will also be performing. When I saw her on stage, I instantly knew she was perfect for the day, she is extremely funny, has a great voice and kickbacks to be proud of, who could ask for more. The Reception will be at The London Hotel, in Southampton.  A long association with the local gay scene, it is part of mine and Darrell's gay heritage. Above all, the day will be Informal, intimate, deeply individual and a bit peculiar.
    Darrell and I have been here before, long before Gay Marriage was legal.  In 1998 we had a 'Rite of Blessing', given by a Church of England Vicar, at The Quaker Hall in London Road, Southampton.  
    A 'Rite of Blessing' has no legal standing in law.  It was the only way of showing commitment sixteen years ago for a Gay couple.  For us it was about pushing boundaries and fighting for equality, at a time when things were beginning to change. As Gay men we were just emerging from a deeply damaging and unequal time.  We had fought to change the law.  We were one of the first gay couples, with a foreign national partner, to be allowed to remain together, as a couple, after a change in the law by the new Labour Government.  We worked with Stonewall, Members of Parliament as well as local Councillors, just to remain in the Country we chose to live in.  It was a liberating time!
    I'm not sure gay people have the same things to fight for any more.  Times are very different.  Gay people no longer campaign or fight, which is sad.  I was happy to grow up as gay, at a time of change for our community and even happier that our relationship was part of that pioneering era.  I have no idea what the next twenty years will bring, but whatever it is, we both aim  to be at the forefront!