When I got my first position at an HIV/AIDS organization in 1987, I thought the job would be my last. I was HIV positive, living in Los Angeles and surrounded by fear and dying. How could I possibly be here to type this blog to you now?

It's a blessing and a curse of sorts. Why me, why now ... why ask why?

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Thirty years ago I was a skinny college freshman at the University of New Orleans who had no idea that a fellow student would become a brother to me. Charles was the first friend I told when I tested HIV positive. The value of his friendship was something I took for granted through years of drug addiction (and as lovers came and went). Somehow we've remained constants in each other's lives even as I moved around the country. And just how good a friend is Charles today? Good enough to spend hours at my house, behind a camera, quietly filming a wild night of discussion, gossip and secrets that became this video blog.

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I've lived with HIV for more than 25 years and I'm grateful for that. But my face belies my good fortune. I've begun developing "the look" of a long-term survivor -- the telltale troughs in my face (facial lipoatrophy) that bear witness to my history of taking HIV medications.

Fortunately, treatment for this condition is available, and my video blog takes you along as I meet the talented Dr. Gerald Pierone. Observe my consultation with him, hear answers to common questions and see my own procedure and the results. Dr. Pierone used a combination of Radiesse (calcium hydroxylapatite, Radiance) and Sculptra (poly-L-lactic acid, New-Fill) to begin restoring the loss of facial fat, and I look forward to follow-up procedures in the months to come. Maybe my experience can help you decide if this is right for you or someone you care about.

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When I got my nipples pierced about three years ago, I was fresh out of drug rehab and wanted to make a provocative gesture that said "They can take away the meth but I'm still a sexual being, dammit!" Getting solid gold rings only added to the "investment" in my acting out. And, yeah, piercing unlikely places on your body ... hurts.

No one has seen my bedazzled nips lately, unless a glance in the gym locker room counts. My body jewelry has outlasted my sexual appetite, it appears, because this former card-carrying Sex Pig has left the pen and shaken off the mud. In other words, maturity (and sexual dysfunction from the emotional scars of meth addiction) has won out.

And then I noticed that an otherwise benign article on The Body, "Sex Pigs" Campaign Creates Space for Sexually Adventurous Australian Men to Talk About HIV Risk, became the most widely read article on the site for a time! Is there a thirst for information on high-risk activity? Or do we gravitate to potentially sexually explicit content out of pure habit?

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As carefully as I manage my HIV meds and doctor appointments, I manage my recovery from crystal meth addiction. "Recovery" means different things to people and those facing addiction find help in various ways -- 12-step programs, therapy, their church or faith -- and I'm not going to promote one or the other. I'll simply say that being vigilant and accepting myself as a crystal meth addict in recovery is vital, and the consequences of ignoring it are more dangerous than even my HIV diagnosis.

My video blog takes you to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, where I recently spent time with a former partner who said goodbye to our relationship when I entered rehab about three years ago. He had had enough of my drama, my lies and my inability to function honestly. The relationship I squandered, though, has been renewed, however tentatively, as he and I try to figure out what we might mean to one another today, after these years. He has learned quite a bit more about the nature of addiction, and I have shown a commitment to regaining my true self. There have been relapses along the way, to be honest, and getting to the root of what takes me there has been a tough emotional excavation. Check out the video blog as I try to make sense of second chances, or just to see me fall flat on my ass from a faulty hammock. (ouch!)

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Years ago I worked as director of an agency for people living with HIV/AIDS, and although the work was satisfying, I was irritated with one principle of the agency: "You don't know what it's like if you are not HIV positive."

Really? It seems our caregivers get a pretty good idea. One of the most unintentionally hurtful things my brother Dick's late lover said to him, as my brother cared for him throughout his illness, was "you don't know what it's like." My brother had a horrific front row seat to his lover's disease and dying process. Isn't that close enough to understand?

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Greetings, all my viral and not-so-viral friends! Yes, I do get flip from time to time, but blame it on my extremely good mood. Because this month my video blog features an actual, for-real phone call from the folks at the Oprah Show. Yes, the Mother of All Gab Fests turned to yours truly for ... what, exactly? Watch the blog and find out!

Meanwhile I remain the luckiest damn fool alive; my recent doctor appointment showed no viral load and more T cells than one man deserves (800+). I'd like to chalk it up to cigarettes and double chocolate brownies made from scratch (why oh why am I single with such talents?), but the name of the game, my sweet infected friends, is compliance. I take those damn pills rain or shine, keep the refills coming and treat my mental and emotional health as seriously as I treat this rockin' bod. OK, now I'm just giddy.

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This is one of those weeks when my diseases -- HIV and addiction -- take a back seat to "real life" and the pleasures it can provide. Although, like a noisy passenger, sometimes the back seat is just as intrusive.

My brother Dick is visiting this week. He's also gay, in recovery, and we share a healthy sense of humor as perfectly as our shared DNA. He's here to rehearse and perform a show we've written for a conference this weekend for gays and lesbians in recovery. It's a silly show with serious undertones, and that's an apt description for our time together.

Dick somehow escaped becoming HIV positive himself, but lost a lover of 13 years to the disease. Memories of that terrible time have faded but stubbornly remain. His subsequent drug addiction raged terribly until he found recovery and has been clean for 14 years now. What an inspiration he is to me.

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I'm tempted to begin with, "I'm Mark, and I'm a drug addict," because so much of my life is caught up in repairing the damage of many years of addiction. If you don't have experience with addicts, never fear. I can easily convince you how functional I am and have been: Years of leading an AIDS agency; long term relationships with well adjusted, handsome men; and a fairly successful vocation as a writer and columnist.

I wish I could tell you what to expect from this blog, but will guarantee only that it will be an honest account of my life living with HIV and as an addict in recovery. Beyond that, life is unpredictable so hopefully the blog will reflect that.

As you may have noticed, I'll be video blogging as well, which I'm really excited about because so much can get lost in translation -- humor, sarcasm, and other such tools I often call upon -- in the written word. Check out the video blog if you are able.

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