Before I got into the hospital, I accidentally fall across a newsletter named “The way to God”. It was written how the person, tired of living in depravity, dirt and sin, prayed to God: "How to find a way to you? Give me a sign! ". He visited churches, changed confessions, but nothing changed in his life, everything was absolutely the same. The wayfarer replied: “Ask for forgiveness and confess.” He had confessed for a long time, he remembered all his past sins, but his life didn’t change, only the burden of sins pressed harder and harder, and the man got into terrible despair. Then he met another wayfarer, who said: “God has faced his son to terrible sufferings, so you will be forgiven: for past, future and for the present. Try to accept this forgiveness with all your soul.”
Even before I’ve heard similar phrases, but suddenly it dawned on me. Right! I was forgiven! That day I got into the hospital, and when I had a chance, I took the bible and started reading it over from the first page. For a week already, something was happening to me. The soul has thawed. Being so closed and gloomy before, I started smiling and even laughing about nothing. I haven’t had this feeling for many years already. I started talking with people in ward, which I’ve never allowed myself before. I felt so comfortable…
I wish my way to God wasn’t that long.
In 2005, when cops were hitting me and applying physical pressure towards my son, who was only12 then, they made we write statements on the fact of seizing of 5 grams of heroin from me. For the first time in my life, I have experienced such humiliation, even though was all the way down already. They made me pay $500, but it was like 5 million for me at that time, the mythical amount of money. We escaped from home and hid everywhere for four months: in attics, basements, and in penny flophouses, if ever managed to find money. There was no way to go. Cops always visited my house, broke the windows and doors, thinking that I was hiding inside.
When the fall came, it was already impossible to sleep outside, let alone washing or changing. In December, haven’t asked for a permission of relatives, who have refused from us a long time ago, I brought my son to their place, and returned to the street.
It was really cold. It was snowing. No bed, no warm clothes. Only vodka to warm and I went on moving automatically, alone. Old friends of mine could barely recognize me. And I escaped them. I visited my son every day but what’s the point of it? I just hurt him. Five times I was re-animated. And then four days later I was kicked off. I asked God to send me death. It was the only thing that could help me back then.
Once in spring my son came to me. He burst into tears and said that an aunt doesn’t want to see him at home, always forces to do everything in the house, shouts and says that your mom is to take sponger. And of course he missed his classes.
Up to this moment I have thought that he would be OK without me. I calmed him down with promises and he left, I began to weep. I got used to the absence of emotions and abundance. And here I ran to some construction site and burst into tears. I thought about Edik. Who needs him? What is he face soon? An orphanage? Will he follow my steps? That was the strongest fear back then. Something had really changed that day. I was like awake and started to fight for my life. I almost crawled being physically broken down. Total dystrophy – 37 kilograms. Back then no one even gave me 10% I could survive. It was the time when the first AIDS clinics started to appear in Bishkek. I used to approach them, sat at the threshold and never went away – DO WHAT YOU WANT TO DO. They used to exile me because I was drunk though I didn’t even drink a single drop of alcohol. I walked and bothered everyone I knew, asked for money in order to get well. Good of my son, he made some money, swept mini-buses, worked as check takes and brought me journey-cakes with salads, he helped me at his uttermost. Though he never gave me money. He was afraid that I would break bad.
I was interviewed in a newspaper, first to declare of HIV-status and there was one social organization orientated in HIV/AIDS problems that found me. They took me to some social dormitory, put me at the hospital twice, helped to get disability grant so to have some money (700 soms)*, helped me to recover from pneumocystic pneumonia to the end, raised my HB from 26 to standard norm, slowed the cirrhosis and there were a lot of diseases that left me.
We spent almost half a year, so after it I became well. Everything depended on me further. A life from the scratch was to expect me further.
I suddenly cried while I was writing it. But these tears are tears of gratitude to Lord for his tests.
1. Som - is a national currency of Kyrgyzstan. The amount of 700 soms is equivalent to around 15 U.S. dollars.
I'm almost crying, while reading all this. Lyudmila, it's never too late. You had a dificult life, full of misery and tears, but the awareness came a bit later, than you probably planned. You're on the right path now. You've got a chance to ask for forgiveness and thank God for the years you still have. Gog bless you!
thank you for your honesty and willingness to share!