Bill Hall, 71, has been fighting for his life for 38 years. Lately he has been feeling exhausted.
Hall contracted HIV, the virus that causes AIDS, in 1986. Since then, he has battled depression, heart disease, diabetes, non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, kidney cancer, and prostate cancer. Over the past year, Hall has been hospitalized five times for dangerous infections and life-threatening internal bleeding.
But that’s only part of what the gay hall has been working on. Hall was born into the Tlingit tribe in a small fishing village in Alaska. He was separated from his family at the age of nine and sent to a public boarding school. There, he told me, he endured years of bullying and sexual abuse that “killed my spirit.”
Hall said the trauma prevented her from forming close relationships. He contracted HIV through anonymous sex at a bathhouse he frequented. He lives alone in Seattle and has been alone his entire adult life.
“It’s really hard to stay positive when you’re going through so much,” said Hall, who works for a Native American community organization. “It’s mentally exhausting.”
It’s a sentiment shared by many LGBTQ+ seniors, most of whom, like Hall, are trying to cope on their own.
Of the 3 million Americans age 50 and older who identify as gay, bisexual, or transgender, about twice as many single people live alone compared to straight people, according to the National Resource Center on LGBTQ+ Aging. I am doing it.
This elderly population is rapidly expanding. By 2030, the number of LGBTQ+ older adults is expected to double. Many people don’t have partners, and most probably don’t have children or grandchildren to help take care of them. AARP survey indicates.
Numerous research studies show that they face a daunting array of problems, including higher-than-normal levels of anxiety and depression, chronic stress, disability, and chronic conditions such as heart disease. High rates of smoking, alcohol use, drug use, and all the ways people try to cope with stress contribute to poor health.
Remember, this generation grew up in a time when states banned homosexuality and the American Psychiatric Association recognized homosexuality as a mental illness. When they came out, many were rejected by their families and churches. Then they endured the terrible effects of the AIDS crisis.
“Dozens of people were dying every day,” Hall said. “Your life becomes about going to support groups, visiting friends in the hospital, going to funerals.”
It’s no wonder that LGBTQ+ older adults are more likely to experience social withdrawal and isolation than other older adults. “There was too much sadness, too much anger, too much trauma, too many people dying,” said Vincent Crisostomo, director of aging services at the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. Ta. “It was unbearable.”
In this year’s AARP survey of 2,200 LGBTQ+ adults ages 45 and older, 48% said they felt isolated from others and 45% said they lacked allies. Almost 80% reported being concerned about having adequate social support as they get older.
Coming to terms with aging isn’t easy for anyone, but it can be especially difficult for LGBTQ+ older adults like Hall, who are long-term HIV survivors.
Out of 1.2 million people living with hiv In the United States, about half are over 50 years old. By 2030, that proportion is estimated to rise to 70%.
Christopher Christensen, 72, of Palm Springs, California, has been living with HIV since May 1981 and is deeply involved with local organizations that provide services to HIV survivors. “Many people living with HIV never thought they would get older, nor did they plan on getting older, because they thought they would die soon,” Christensen said. .
Jeff Berry is Alumni Association Projectan alliance of long-term HIV survivors. “Here are survivors of the AIDS epidemic, and now, years later, their health problems are worsening and they are losing their friends again,” Berry said. “And that’s causing years of underlying post-traumatic stress. Yes, that’s part of getting older, but it’s very, very difficult.”
Being alone with no one to help you understand how your past influences your current challenges can make it even more difficult.
“The lack of access to LGBTQ- and age-friendly supports and services is a huge challenge for many,” said Chief Experience Officer Cristina DaCosta. sagethe nation’s largest and oldest organization for LGBTQ+ seniors.
Deidre Nottingham, a 74-year-old gay woman, lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment at Stonewall House, an LGBTQ+-friendly senior housing complex in New York City. “I just don’t trust people,” she said. “And I don’t want people to get hurt by attacking gay people.”
When I first spoke to Nottingham in 2022, she talked about the sheer number of people who have died from Covid-19 and the post-traumatic stress-type response to the fear of getting infected. I explained. This was a common reaction among older people who are gay, bisexual, or transgender and who are traumatized by the AIDS epidemic.
Nottingham was kicked out of the house by his mother at the age of 14 and spent the next four years on the streets. The only brother she speaks to regularly lives in Seattle, across the United States. In 1999 and 2000, four of her close partners passed away within a short period of time, with her last partner passing away in 2003.
When I spoke to her in September, Nottingham said she was benefiting from weekly therapy sessions and time spent with volunteer “friendly visitors” arranged by SAGE. Still, she admitted: I miss you. ”
Donald Bell, a 74-year-old gay black man who co-chairs the Illinois LGBTQ+ Aging Commission, lives alone in a studio apartment in subsidized, LGBTQ+-friendly senior housing in Chicago. He cared for two elderly parents with serious health problems for 30 years, and was also a single father, raising two sons he adopted from his niece.
Bell said he had little money after quitting his job as a higher education administrator to care for his parents. “Medical costs have bankrupted us,” he said. (According to SAGE, one-third of LGBTQ+ seniors live at or below 200% of the federal poverty level.) He has high blood pressure, diabetes, heart disease, and nerve damage in his feet. Lately he has been walking with a cane.
Very unfortunately, Bell told me that he has never had a long-term relationship. But he has some good friends in the building and in the city.
“Of course I feel lonely,” Bell said when we spoke in June. “But the fact that I’m a Black man who lived to be 74 years old, the fact that I’m not destroyed, the fact that I have the sanctity of my own life and my own humanity, is a victory. That’s something I’m grateful for.”
Now he wants to be a role model for young gay men who want to embrace old age rather than dwell on the past. “My past is over. I have to move on,” Bell said.
