Drinking, random sex, and crying on Sunday nights

Last updated on: January 14, 2015 at 12:16 pm by John Shore

Drinking, random sex, and crying on Sunday nights 2015-01-14T12:16:09-08:00 John Shore

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

Got in the letter below. Following it I’ll run the letter again, but this time with my spontaneous thoughts and responses to it embedded in bracketed lovely blue.

Hello John,

Sometimes you feel a tug on your heart, a little nudge or prompt, and for whatever reason, I want to write to you. Probably because you’re lovely and kind and I feel like your blog and Facebook pages are more of my church than the one I actually attend.

I’m a lesbian and I know that’s what I’m branded as at my church. It’s the label people have attached to me. I know it’s what they think about before they say hello. I know it’s what they pray about when they say they’ll pray for me.

I hate being torn between the people I love and the person I am.

I go online and feel accepted, like God is accepting me and telling me that I was created like this. But then I leave church ashamed and conflicted. My Friday night is one where I get off with random women and sometimes do more and then my Sunday night is me crying, whether Downton Abbey is on or not. I’m living in two worlds and I want them to be brought together.

I have a personality disorder and I get addicted easily. I’ve dabbled in drugs and I binge drink like cider isn’t going to be there tomorrow. And to finish it off, I self harm. I’m in counseling yet I feel like I’m going round in circles.

I’m sorry for using the word “I” so much. It always makes me feel selfish, which I probably am, but anyway.

Please help. Help would be terrific, top notch, super duper.

Best wishes.

Hello John, [yo]

Sometimes you feel a tug on your heart, a little nudge or prompt, and for whatever reason, I want to write to you. [Whoa. That was pretty majorly lovely.] Probably because you’re lovely [hey! same word!] and kind and I feel like your blog and Facebook pages are more of my church than the one I actually attend. [Wow—thank you for that.]

I’m a lesbian and I know that’s what I’m branded as at my church. [Branded. That’s such a loathsome phenomenon with which gay people are so painfully burdened. It’s so ridiculous that gay people have to go through life knowing that about the first thing straight people think about them—and most often pretty much the only thing straight people can seem to think about them—is who they are sexually. Who wants to have their sexuality always be the main focus of who they are and how they live? It’s like if I, a straight guy, had to go everywhere out in the world with my badoinker hanging out of my pants, or with a big sign on my forehead that said … I dunno, “I dig hand jobs,” or whatever. Ugh.]

It’s the label people have attached to me. [Of course they have. Ugh redux.] I know it’s what they think about before they say hello. I know it’s what they pray about when they say they’ll pray for me. [I hate your church. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to start telling straight people, “I’ll pray for your predilection for sexual perversity.” (It’d be worth saying that just to see that panicked look sure to flash across their face as they wonder how the heck I know about them.)]

I hate being torn between the people I love and the person I am. [That sentiment and insanely painful reality is exactly why I collected and presented the stories I did in UNFAIR.]

I go online and feel accepted, like God is accepting me and telling me that I was created like this. [Yay Internet!] But then I leave church ashamed and conflicted. [Boo church.] My Friday night is one where I get off with random women and sometimes do more and then my Sunday night is me crying, whether Downton Abbey is on or not. [That’s pretty much the greatest/most perfect sentence I’ve ever read: what about the human experience doesn’t it capture? But writerly-art aside, I’m so sorry that Sunday nights sometimes, or perhaps even often, find you crying. That’s just the saddest thing. You don’t deserve that.]

I have a personality disorder and I get addicted easily. [Everybody’s got a personality disorder, and everyone gets addicted easily. Just know that.] I’ve dabbled in drugs and I binge drink like cider isn’t going to be there tomorrow. And to finish it off, I self harm. [In one way or another everyone self-harms: everyone eats too much, or drinks too much, or smokes too much weed or tobacco, or in some other way facilitates their own destruction. People are just sort of designed to self-destruct: the will to death, and all that. It sounds like you, perhaps habitually, cut or burn yourself. That’s not good; that’s a habit you’ll want to break by seeing a counselor to help you understand why you’re doing that.]

I’m in counselling yet I feel like I’m going round in circles. [Well, consider getting yourself a different counselor. And to cut to the chase with all this sort of stuff: the reason you’re cutting yourself is because at a very deep level you accept as true the horrible lie that someone drilled into you—and I’m gonna guess that someone was your parents, cuz it’s always the parents—which is that you are bad and wrong and weak and evil and terrible and embarrassing and disappointing: that you are, in a word, a loser. You believe that about yourself; by hurting yourself you’re trying to prove your parents right about you, and to show your devotion to them, your love for them despite it all. That’s … the way your parents got you, forever: whether they meant to or not, they ultimately turned your organic, ineradicable love for them into a weapon you use against yourself. For a bit more on this, read my Perpetually unhappy? Consider rejecting your parents. (And of course the terrible bitch of it is that you also—and perhaps even primarily—grew up with the universe messaging to you that because you’re gay you’re less than human. Thanks, world, for that vicious craziness. And thanks for daring to claim that toxic inanity comes first and foremost from God, lazy and bigoted Christians.)]

I’m sorry for using the word “I” so much. [Oh, please. That’s the only word anyone ever wants to use anyway. You’re just being honest.] It always makes me feel selfish, which I probably am, but anyway. [You don’t sound selfish to me, at all. You sound awesome to me. I love the way you write and think. Besides, again, everyone is obsessively selfish. Your problem isn’t that you think there’s anything wrong with you. Your problem is that you don’t yet realize that there is a ton of stuff wrong with everybody. You think too little of yourself, and way too much of others. But that only means that you are (I’m guessing) young. Time will even out for you the balance between how crazy you and how crazy it turns out everyone else is, too. The good news is that you’re not special; from what I can tell there’s nothing particularly wrong with you. The bad news is … well, that ultimately balancing out/healing can be kind of … anti-climatic, insofar as it’s easy to use your “dysfunction” as a way of keeping yourself feeling unique and special. Once you realize that everyone’s crazy, and therefore crazy is entirely normal, it’s all kind of … “Meh. Life. What’s for dinner?” Which is awesome. But not exactly dramatic.]

Please help. [What can I do but what I have?] Help would be terrific, top notch, super duper. [Okay, well, I can definitely offer you this career advice: become a writer. I could see that being … the new way you go, if you haven’t already. You’ve definitely got that special and magical word thing writers have.]

Best wishes. [To you too, sweetheart. Write me and keep me up.]

Dear John

Previous Post

January 14, 2014

What no one can forgive

Next Post

January 21, 2014 When bad Christians happen to good women

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Christian Issues Christian Spirituality Dear John En Espanol Everywhere She's Not Humor Look See Pastor Bob's Corner Personal Portuguese Relationships Russian Short-short story Smith Family Chronicles Uncategorized

Select a Month March 2024 August 2022 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 February 2020 December 2019 June 2019 December 2018 May 2018 May 2017 January 2017 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010 November 2010 October 2010 September 2010 August 2010 July 2010 June 2010 May 2010 April 2010 March 2010 February 2010 January 2010 December 2009 November 2009 October 2009 September 2009 August 2009 July 2009 June 2009 May 2009 April 2009 March 2009 February 2009 January 2009 December 2008 November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 July 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 December 2007 November 2007 October 2007 September 2007 August 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Your eyes are compared to these gentle birds, and your temples behind your veil are like the halves of a fruit. What is the fruit?

Select your answer to see how you score.

A fig An apple A pomegranate A grape

Books by This Author Books by John Shore

See All Titles »