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Page 5
Antigone Hodgins
Her Apartment, Upper Tenderloin
June 17 and August 19, 1995
I realized how little I knew about HIV. You think you know what it means until you're dealing with it, then you're like, "What the fuck does this mean?" There was a public library near there and I went with my mom looking for anything on women or young people and AIDS. And there was nothing. This was 1990, so a lot has changed in the last five years. I was also really scared because I thought, "God, are these people going to know why I'm looking for this book?" I checked out some books anyway, and my dad gave me his credit card number to go to different bookstores, and try to find some more books. That night we went out to see Goodfellas. Then Sunday night I went to another movie. I can shut down at movie theaters. Monday night I went to the group at BAY Positives. Then about a month and a half later, I became a peer counselor. Then a month after that I started speaking publicly.
I dropped out of school because I couldn't go to class. It was really hard for me to be around people my age. I felt really different from them. Every time I heard people talk about their lives in a futuristic way, I had such a feeling of loss. I was very depressed for about four years. It's not until the last year that I've been coming out of the depression.
MW:
So, when you first tested you told your family and a couple of friends.
Antigone: Yes. What were their reactions?
MW: No, I'm interested in how their reactions affected you.
Antigone: Oh, that's... Wow. No one's ever asked that one. Well, when I told my sister, she started crying like I was going to die. And that was hard because I felt responsible. She was in Santa Barbara and going to school at the time. And then I was like, "Oh, my God! I really am going to die, aren't I?" I said to myself, "Okay, I thought it was bad, but I didn't know it was this bad." And then my dad, was like, "Well, we need to call this place and get you on insurance. It's not that big of a deal. It's just like cancer nowadays. You're going to be fine." And that really bothered me. In fact, like there are times after that, when I called him and I'd be crying and scared, and he was like, "You know, you're an adult now. You need to grow up." My dad actually did fly up from LA, the one and only time he's ever come visit me was the weekend after I tested. He brought my little brother and sister. Helen, who was three or four, always wanted to share a bed with me, but I was really scared to let her because I thought, "oh my God, what if I start bleeding, I might bleed on her." My dad just said, "Helen's sleeping with you." And that felt really good.
And then my uncle, he's a lawyer, a Republican lawyer, in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I had to have my mom tell him, because I couldn't. I mean, saying the words was so hard at first. He's like 6'4" or something. He said something like, "Well, even babies are getting it now." And he started crying. He was really upset. It was a relief that my uncle still loved me.
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