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Even
as a young boy, I was fascinated by the story of Pygmalion:
a lonely
man who creates an image, that comes to life.
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"When you have sought the company of a sensual satisfaction, what loneliness afterward!"
St. Josemaria Escriva
Over the past few days, I have received many e-mail messages, phone-calls, and requests to write a blog about loneliness. Loneliness? It was not something that I had thought about in a very long time. I remember, back when I was still a pre-pubescent child, that I was often alone and lonely. My parents were busy working, my older siblings – all occupied with their own lives, and I was often left by myself. At first, I use to just sit around and daydream, or create little forested shrines and gardens in my backyard, or set up elaborate race-ways with the miles of plastic track that fitted the myriad number of Hot-Wheels I collected. When I discovered my older brother's cache of pornography, it became my new playground and fantasy-land. Then I longed for everyone to leave the house, so I could spend as much time as possible with the men and women who lived within the pages of the magazines. They became my friends. As I got older, my obsession with porn grew. At the same time, I started to retreat at school. I had a difficult time relating to anyone in the physical world. I had to interact with them; it was not the one way relationship that I had with the flat images of porn. This inwardness made me only more shy and reserved; making me an easy target for bullying boys in the schoolyard. I had one or two friends, also social misfits, and stayed away from anyone I didn’t know.
Over the past few days, I have received many e-mail messages, phone-calls, and requests to write a blog about loneliness. Loneliness? It was not something that I had thought about in a very long time. I remember, back when I was still a pre-pubescent child, that I was often alone and lonely. My parents were busy working, my older siblings – all occupied with their own lives, and I was often left by myself. At first, I use to just sit around and daydream, or create little forested shrines and gardens in my backyard, or set up elaborate race-ways with the miles of plastic track that fitted the myriad number of Hot-Wheels I collected. When I discovered my older brother's cache of pornography, it became my new playground and fantasy-land. Then I longed for everyone to leave the house, so I could spend as much time as possible with the men and women who lived within the pages of the magazines. They became my friends. As I got older, my obsession with porn grew. At the same time, I started to retreat at school. I had a difficult time relating to anyone in the physical world. I had to interact with them; it was not the one way relationship that I had with the flat images of porn. This inwardness made me only more shy and reserved; making me an easy target for bullying boys in the schoolyard. I had one or two friends, also social misfits, and stayed away from anyone I didn’t know.
In
high school, I became somewhat desperate for acceptance, and tried to
create a larger social network. I dumped my childhood buddies, to
only fail miserably. Then, I was really alone. This caused hate to
well up inside me. I looked down on everyone, I thought myself a
supremely superior being. I couldn’t wait to escape. Suddenly, I
had an idea. I recalled seeing news reports on television about the
growing AIDS epidemic, centered in the gay enclave of The Castro in
neighboring San Francisco. At my 18th birthday, I quickly
drove there and found a little oasis of acceptance and camaraderie.
In my mind, it was one big family. It was my porn-fantasies come to
life. Upon graduating, I said goodby to the suburban and provincial
town that I grew up in and joined with those who shared my tastes and
proclivities. It was immediately narcotic: men in The Castro came
from all of the country and the world. Like me, they were drawn away
from the constraints and persecutions back home to a land of freedom
and all-encompassing love. The boys I had feared in school, now
embraced me as men. But, here is where the quotation from St.
Josemaria becomes very important: for when you seek out the flesh,
and you are around others who are focused on the flesh, and sadly the
gay culture is completely earth-bound and based on the material, you
end up with a feeling of isolation and abandonment.
All
the sexual freedom of expression within the gay world breeds an
avalanche of promiscuity; everyone hooking up with everyone else.
This creates a false sense of community. Indeed, there are
connections, but they are often shallow and transitory. In my own
life, I would flee and return to the homosexual lifestyle a few
times. I would get burned-out. To have the intimacy with another
person, it had to include sex. I was getting tired of constantly
having to perform in order to receive the love and approval that I
wanted. Looking for other groups that would take me in: I dove into
the wicked and dark environs of the occult and political extremism.
Like dejected and desperate urban youths, who join violent street
gangs, I acquired an instant cadre of loyal friends; a family. But,
that too was fleeting. Because the association was not based on
individual personalities or merits, but the communal mind-think of
the whole. They didn’t love me for me, but because I was in the
group. But, the wanderings would continue: one cult after another;
one lover after another. Nothing worked. I was still lonely and
alone. I was wearing myself out. I was tired, and I couldn’t go on.
There was nowhere left to go. I had done it all.
When
the Lord presented me with the choice of life or death: I chose life.
I went home, and tried to heal. My bedroom became a hermitage. For
months, I almost never left it. My only companion was God. Everyone
who I thought was a friend - abandoned me. A few people did call me,
but they only wanted to party. I was broken, there was nothing that I
could celebrate; I just wanted to rest. But, after a few months, I
was screaming inside. I couldn’t stand the alienation any longer. I
thought to myself: I must go back. Only, I had a plan. I would merely
return for the championship. Sex had become too sick for me. It was
the idol on the blood-splashed altar that I could no longer kneel in
front of. With pride, I went back to my old life and got sucked right
in. The experience was sheer torture. I went home, walked into my
room, and closed the door. I felt defeated. Duped. I wanted to
runaway. That night, I started scouring the Internet for Catholic
religious orders; especially those in remote geographical locations.
I found a few, made arrangements for a visit, and left California.
I
spent the next three years jumping from one monastic community to
another. Locked away and ensconced behind stone walls, I felt
protected. I was part of something. Nothing could harm me here. I no
longer felt lonely. I was constantly surrounded by priests and my
fellow brothers. I loved it. But, I did not have any sort of
religious vocation. And, I knew it. I was hiding. But, the Lord gave
me those few years, although they were interspersed with great
difficulty, to adsorb the Gifts of the Holy Spirit and to be cradled
in the arms of Jesus and His foster-father St. Joseph. I gained
intimacy with Christ and His Saints. They became my family. Once I
reached that sacred place, I was cast out of the cloister and dropped
back into the world of the flesh and the devil. I was petrified. I
retreated again. But, God wanted me among the sinners He loves. When
I was at my most pained; the Lord showered me with Graces. I met
other men, who struggled as I did. They were damaged like me, but
they were good and kind. There was solidarity. A love for Jesus, and
a love for each other. We were soldiers for The Lord. The
gratification that came from the rush of physical sensations was
powerful, but not lasting. It emptied the soul. The Love of the
Spirit was the all-encompassing Love of God. It was what I had been
looking for my entire life. I felt complete; I had my Savior and
Protectors in heaven, and my compatriots on Earth. Since then,
loneliness is a part of my past life; a bitter and frightening
chapter that I am happy to see closed. My reason for revisiting the
person I was - is not for revery, but to help those who have reached
out to me.
My
suggestions:
Develop
a relationship with Our Lord; He just wants to Love you.
Break
old ties with those involved in a sinful lifestyle; do not hate or
admonish them; give them love, explain your new life, wish them well,
leave your door open, then walk away.
Spend
some time alone with God; even if its uncomfortable and scary.
Pray
and heal.
Lastly,
seek out companionship with fellow souls who share your Love for God
and your commitment to living a life of holiness.
