LONG-TERM SURVIVORS PSYCHOLOGY |
Reducing the impact of psychosocial stressors on long-term survivors
BY DAVID FAWCETT, PHD, LCSW
____________________________________________________________________________________
I watched the young,
thin man leaning heavily on his cane as he struggled up Seventh Avenue.
The winter wind blew through the New York streets in powerful gusts that
nearly toppled him. Looking painfully weak, every step he took was as
deliberate as it was uncertain. I came forward to assist him when he
stumbled and I saw that he was nearly totally blind. As he grabbed my
hand I recognized the terror in his eyes. We both understood he was
dying of AIDS.
It was 1985 and, at that time, I was unaware that
the virus had already begun its slow-motion destruction of my own immune
system. Pneumocystis pneumonia (PCP), Kaposi sarcoma, dementia, and
blindness from cytomegalovirus (CMV) were terrorizing the gay community.
Painful death was everywhere, one after another, countless friends and
strangers falling away. Those of us left behind, the survivors, the
caretakers, were battered by fear and stigma, anger and hopelessness,
and most of all, a deep, numbing grief.
There was light in the darkness. The crisis led to
tremendous acts of selflessness. Ignored by government and lacking
systems of care, stran-gers stepped up to assist those suffering from
AIDS. The larger community, including our lesbian sisters, created
soothing spaces for those in their final days. While some of us were
fortunate to have supportive families, others were not and they too were
embraced. We cared for those rejected by fear and stigma. We buried
those whose churches refused to do so. Persistent efforts of advocacy
and courage, such as those of ACT UP, provided access to medications.
The Denver Principles declared a series of rights for people living with
the virus, including not being treated as victims and equal
participation in the fight against HIV/AIDS. Many of us were transformed
as we began a lifelong fight for survival against stigma and
oppression.
Yet, despite these contributions, and even as
mortality began to improve, the impact of this tragedy on those who
lived through it was irreversible. These men and women, the long-term
survivors, continue to be plagued by a host of concerns, including
depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, addictions and, for
some, a deeply internalized sense of shame and even worthlessness.
Long-term survivors are diverse. Some, like me,
date from the pre-protease inhibitor era when our T-cells dropped to
four or five. After 1996, with the introduction of protease inhibitors,
people living with HIV/AIDS (PLWHA) had a different experience,
characterized less by certain death than increased risk for isolation
and depression. Others, such as women, communities of color, and the
trans community, have all had a unique experience of HIV shaped by
stigma and other psychosocial issues.
Remarkable medical advances have altered the course
of the epidemic and changed its focus to one of healthy living, a
narrative that unfortunately overlooks the experiences of many long-term
survivors living with HIV/AIDS. This lack of acknowledgment in stories
about HIV/AIDS only further contributes to social isolation and unmet
psychosocial needs.
HIV suddenly became very personal for me when I was diagnosed in 1988.
A terrible case of shingles, followed by an HIV test and labs,
confirmed that my immune system had significantly deteriorated. I began
taking the only treatment, AZT (ritonavir), every six hours as
prescribed. Because there were no other options and no history by which
doctors could dose this medication, by taking it I entered into a human
drug trial in real time. Unfortunately, AZT created such dangerous
anemia that I was hospitalized for transfusions.
Over the ensuing years I lent my body to numerous
other drug trials in a desperate attempt to stay alive, some of which
also proved so toxic that I was twice hospitalized with pancreatitis and
I still suffer crippling neuropathy. Fearful that my employer would
discover my status, I received pentamidine treatments (to prevent PCP)
anonymously at a public clinic and helped bring unavailable drugs into
the country.
In 1994, when I was hospitalized for non-Hodgkin’s
lymphoma, my family was assembled to be present for my death, but I
somehow survived. Financial hardship followed when my health insurance
failed to cover all the costs of the hospitalization, forcing me to
declare bankruptcy. For years I focused on simply surviving until the
next medication was released. Twenty years into the epidemic, many,
including my then-partner of 22 years, began developing resistance and
ran out of medication options. Like many others, he died.
My history is not unique. I share this journey with thousands of other men and women
who, starting in the early days of the epidemic, had a very different
experience than someone diagnosed with HIV today. For us, even an
undetectable viral load cannot reassure our worry about the cumulative
toll of the drugs and the virus on our minds and bodies, especially as
we age. The psychosocial concerns listed have a significant impact on
health and well-being (see "Psychosocial Complications”).
HIV has become a manageable illness, and today we
can even speak of a cure. While I am truly grateful that we are
conquering this epidemic, it saddens me that the devastation to my
generation increasingly seems to be lost to so many, including a portion
of the younger HIV workforce. And although this history is being
documented on film and through our sharing, it falls to us alone to
rewrite the narrative of our lives with HIV. We are still here. We
survived, but we are doing much more. We are using resilience to
transform our lives, thereby healing us and influencing those that
follow.
Psychosocial complications
BELIEFS ABOUT SELF
An HIV diagnosis is a blow to our identity
and beliefs about who we are. “I am damaged goods.” “I am unlovable.” “I
am unworthy.” Fueled by shame and stigma, these beliefs resonate with
those resulting from other stigmatized identities such as being gay,
from an ethnic or racial group, or an addict. There are ample messages
from the world reminding someone living with HIV that they are dirty,
worthless, even dangerous. These words become deeply internalized and
create a jumble of worries about a foreshortened future, rejection,
isolation, even criminalization. Such negative self-talk must be
identified and corrected. This requires both persistence and support
from peers along with healthy role models to eradicate these shame-based
beliefs about oneself.
TRAUMA
Most, if not all, people living with
HIV/AIDS have experienced trauma and/or abuse in some form: emotional,
physical, sexual, intellectual, and even spiritual. Trauma not only
results from an HIV diagnosis, but a history of trauma can put someone
at risk for becoming HIV-positive by creating feelings of low self-worth
that lead to high-risk sexual behavior or deadening painful emotions
through substance use. No matter the source, trauma leads to a variety
of symptoms that are disruptive to a healthy emotional life. These
include hypervigilance, isolation, emotional numbing, trust and intimacy
issues, and even survivor guilt. There are various therapeutic
interventions that can help individuals heal from traumatic experiences,
and trauma-informed care has now become an important standard for
recognizing its far-reaching impact.
MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES
People living with HIV/AIDS (PLWHA) have a
significantly increased risk for mental health concerns. In any given
year, nearly 50% of PLWHA meet the criteria for a depressive mood
disorder, up to 40% can be diagnosed with anxiety, and many others are
diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) or suicidal
ideation. Psychotherapy, sometimes combined with medication, can be very
effective for these conditions. Anyone experiencing such symptoms
should seek out providers familiar with both HIV medications and the
emotional concerns of long-term survivors. HIV-related dementia was once
a very serious problem in the early days of the epidemic. Fortunately,
rates of dementia have greatly decreased with newer medications but
today nearly half of long-term survivors are estimated to experience
HIV-associated neurocognitive disorders (HAND). Symptoms can include
confusion, forgetfulness, and behavioral changes which are
indistinguishable from symptoms related to the aging process. For now,
the best intervention for HAND is to keep one’s viral load at
undetectable.
SUBSTANCE USE
PLWHA are at greatly increased risk for some
form of addiction. Injection drug use (IDU) accounts for about 8% of
new cases of HIV, and with the opioid epidemic there are concerns this
number will increase. Many PLWHA find that certain substances and
behaviors numb uncomfortable emotions and alleviate inhibitions and
shame. While use of any substance can become problematic,
methamphetamine is a particularly destructive drug reaching epidemic
levels. Many long-term survivors who feel isolated, “invisible,” or less
sexual succumb to the artificial boost to self-esteem provided by meth,
resulting in high-risk sexual behavior. This euphoria is short-lived,
however, and creates both physical and emotional havoc. In addition to
all its other destructive potential, addiction often leads to
non-adherence to HIV medications. Treatment, along with self-help
recovery groups such as Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, and
facilitated groups such as SMART Recovery are effective for addiction.
Creating resilience
Because of psychosocial challenges it is essential
to create resilience in order to maintain emotional health. Such
resilience is not a personality trait, but rather a process unfolding
over time. It is comprised of numerous decisions and beliefs about
oneself, all of which reflect empowerment, social connection, and
compassion for oneself and others. Here are some skills to build
emotional resilience.
LIVE WITH INTENTION
A key foundation of emotional resilience is
making the decision to live intentionally. Careers, families, and the
future imagined by every long-term survivor were disrupted at an early
age. Most of us had a sense of a foreshortened future and learned to
live day-to-day, not believing we would survive. Consequently, many lost
a sense of purpose. Today we know that discovering meaning for one’s
life is tremendously healing. Working in some aspect of the HIV/AIDS
epidemic provides the perfect opportunity for many, transforming their
experience into action that contributes to both themselves and their
community.
DISCOVER COMPASSION
Shame and stigma undermine the lives of
everyone living with HIV/AIDS. Finding compassion for oneself, including
changing negative core beliefs, is tremendously healing. Mindfulness,
the process of noticing one’s thoughts in a non-judgmental way, is
useful for becoming aware of undermining beliefs and patterns and
provides an opportunity for change. Finding trusted persons who can
reflect back how they see us provides a wonderful opportunity to correct
a distorted self-image and replace shame with affirmation and pride.
PRACTICE SELF-CARE
Learning to care for oneself physically,
emotionally, mentally, and spiritually is essential to counteract
psychosocial stressors. Eating well, getting adequate sleep, and daily
exercise can sometimes be a challenge for PLWHA, yet being mindful of
these daily aspects of living carries tremendous benefit, especially as
long-term survivors begin to experience metabolic syndrome (which
includes diabetes), cardiovascular problems, and liver and kidney
complications. Such self-care also includes addressing any addictions,
which only compound health problems.
STAY CONNECTED
Isolation, stigma, and physical concerns all
contribute to social withdrawal, and each can lead to poor health
outcomes. Perhaps the single most important component of emotional
resilience for long-term survivors is social connection.
Getting together with friends, support groups, and
social outings are all ways to create healthy social connections. Buddy
programs, common in the early days of the epidemic, are very effective
at preventing someone from sinking too far into isolation. Opportunities
to interact with others who have had similar life experiences, such as
The Reunion Project or Let’s Kick ASS (AIDS Survivor Syndrome),
transform the impact of living with an uncertain future, multiple losses
of partners and friends, and the prospect of rapid aging into one of
empowerment and connectedness.
David Fawcett PhD, LCSW, was diagnosed with
HIV in 1988, and has worked with HIV and co-occurring mental health and
addiction concerns among men and women for over 25 years. Along with his
clinical practice and workshops, he writes for TheBody.com and is an advisor for the SAMHSA-funded HIV/AIDS and Mental Health Training & Resource Center. His book, Lust, Men, and Meth: A Gay Man’s Guide to Sex and Recovery (Healing Path Press 2015) explores the intersection of drug use and high-risk sexual behavior.
Read more articles from Positively Aware, here.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.