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Kathryn & Baby, 2000.
Jeff,
1995
This piece has come from a number of sources. Jeff's journal entries and the stories his mother Kathryn and friend Seana provided bring light to the last few years of his life.
Only months following our 1995 interview, Jeff checked himself into a residential substance abuse program. During that time, he wrote nearly every day.
08/21/95
The stillness is unnerving. There are no women here. I'm afraid to
face the pain that I've been avoiding. The fear is mounting; but somehow
I perceive pain as a limited experience: after having crossed the threshold
the sensation does not increase. Some nice-looking men here - speaking
of pain. I'm afraid of shitting my pants too. Once it starts, it never
stops. Perhaps the physical manifestations are just another obstacle I've
yet to overcome.
What is Recovery?
10/31/95
Happy Halloween! I'm tired of writing and I have a blister right where
the pen rubs my index finger. Oweee.
But I digress: the real news is that I have a T-4 count of three, there's
nothing that can be done about my back pain, and I still have diarrhea. The
good news is they are switching my medication. I'm very disappointed.
I had some idea that since I've been off the crack, now that I'm
eating and sleeping that I'd see a dramatic improvement. No such luck.
Not that all is for naught; but I can see that recovery is not going to solve
all of my problems. Uh-oh.
11/02/95
We talked about HIV today, D. and I. For the first time in a long time I'm
starting to really feel the gravity of my condition. On one hand I'm
relieved. Denial takes so much energy. On the other hand, my fear and rage
and utter hopelessness are so completely overwhelming I can only take a little
piece at a time.
