The Personal Journey of a CAPS Member

It Takes a Village to Raise a Child

By Alberto

I am a man whose identity has been shaped by two fundamental aspects of my life: being Catholic and the realisation of my true self as a gay man.

For me, being Catholic isn't just a matter of adhering to certain religious beliefs. It encompasses a rich tapestry of traditions, cultures, behaviours, language, and moral values that have become integral for my identity. Even during moments when I questioned my belief in God, I remained steadfast in my Catholic upbringing.

However, the intersection of being Catholic and my sexuality was not always harmonious. There was a time when I believed that being gay was incompatible with being Catholic. This internal struggle has had profound consequences on my mental health.

We often say that it takes a village to raise a child, and I wholeheartedly believe in this saying. Imagine growing up being told that you are wrong, unlovable, a monster, destined for damnation simply for being true to yourself. Forced to hide your true feelings and persona, you retreat into your own thoughts, fearing judgment, bullying, and isolation. I was that child, and the psychological scars I accumulated during those years manifested later as self-loathing, denial and suppression of my own identity, especially during puberty. It manifested in fear of rejection and difficulties building healthy relationships amongst other things.

I convinced myself that I, God's creation, should not even exist, that my very existence was a mistake. No matter how hard I tried to deny my true nature, I couldn't change, and I hated it, mostly because I thought God hated it too.

I also lacked role models or references to guide me on my journey as a gay man. The few representations I encountered were often disempowering and distorted, leaving me feeling disconnected and uninspired.

When I finally came out in the early 90s, I found myself amidst a community plagued by the devastating effects of AIDS, death, and trauma. The damage caused by internalised homophobia emerged as anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, and addiction. Sadly, this pattern was not unique to me but was mirrored in many other gay men I knew.

Gay men are more likely to experience serious mental health issues, not because of their sexuality, but due to the trauma endured during their formative years. A shocking statistic reveals that a gay man is much more likely to have substance abuse issues and to commit suicide than his straight counterpart.

In many ways, I was a textbook example of the consequences of internalised homophobia. In my late 30s I suffered from depression and anxiety. I attempted suicide twice. As a desperate measure I self-medicated and ended up with a serious addiction to class A drugs. I lost my job, my career, my health was in jeopardy, and I lost my freedom. I was arrested and I had to serve custodial time in prison. I almost got deported.

I hit rock bottom, questioning my very existence. It was then that I looked up to the heavens and vented my anger at God, blaming Him for everything that had befallen me. Looking back, I realise that God may have welcomed that unconventional conversation because, for the first time in years, I acknowledged His existence and cried out for help.

From that day forward, things began to change. A Catholic Deacon guided me through the initial steps of my recovery, helping me make peace with myself by confessing my sins and reestablishing a connection with God. I was later introduced to the Twelve Steps, a program rooted in spiritual principles that encourages addicts to surrender to a higher power. With God's grace, this program worked wonders. I last took drugs in April 2015, and I have been clean ever since.

The subsequent years were not without their challenges. Understanding God's plan and my place within the community was no easy feat. However, a significant unresolved conflict from my childhood resurfaced.

Being a Catholic, gay man, and living with HIV felt like an insurmountable challenge. This conflict, coupled with deep-seated internalised homophobia, pushed me to the brink of another serious mental health crisis. But this time, I didn’t pick up drugs, I chose a different path. I prayed, reached out and sought help, and that’s how CAPS appeared in my life.

For the first time, I met Catholic gay men living with HIV who had resolved their inner conflicts. The charity provided the pastoral care I needed, answered my questions, and supported me through my mental health crisis. Today, I understand that being Catholic and gay are not incompatible, and the discrimination I felt from the Catholic Church was largely a product of my own insecurities. I now know that Jesus loves me for who I am. Being among other Christian people living with HIV also taught me that the virus itself is not a punishment for being gay; it's merely a virus.

I write today not as an isolated gay man grappling with inner conflicts, but as a representative of a larger community that shares similar struggles.

Conversations about faith within the context of living with HIV have not always found a welcoming space within HIV support groups. In fact, I recently experienced a distressing incident where I was subjected to trolling, ridicule, and cancellation by group leaders within an HIV charity group simply for mentioning the internal conflict I've had with my faith.

Shockingly, some Christian churches have, at times, exhibited discrimination and even expelled members from their congregations solely because of their HIV status.

It begs the question: if the institutions that are meant to offer solace and support, such as churches and HIV charities, fail to provide understanding and compassion, where can individuals like us turn to?

This is why I am so grateful to have found CAPS and am committed to sharing my own experiences with fellow HIV-positive women and men. It’s why I strive to help individuals struggling with addiction find solace through the principles of spirituality. The journey may be arduous, but it is a path worth treading. It is this mission that grants me the strength to persevere, one day at a time, guided by the grace of a Higher Power.

I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to each of you for taking the time to read my story. Your presence and support mean the world to me.

Thank you.