A mixed day

A mixed day as I managed to recover from a severe bout of autism earlier in the day.  More and more it is apparent to me that all of these psychotropic drugs cause an exacerbated autism in me which is a truly hateful condition. My response ranges from fierce rage (the extreme frustration of a usually "normally" perceiving person to someone who is completely overwhelmed by, and unable to mediate reality) to near catatonic psychosis (I know when I fixate my gaze on one thing that I am going catatonic, but I fixate the gaze because I cannot stand any more sensory input). 

Anyway, it was very unfortunate that I was so autistic this morning because I spoke with Fr. Brian regarding reception into the Episcopal church.  I wasn't really in reality, and so was not able to engage and interact with him on a human level (which makes me feel bad, but my God, how long has it been since I have been able to interact with people on a real level.  I feel like the character in "Castaway", deserted in solitary for four years, arriving home on a jet plane, and not knowing how to engage people and the reality of the civilized world again).  He was kind and let me ramble on about intellectual and ideological differences with the Catholic Church, which are very true and valid, but I never broke the personal plane (and believe me I can cry oceans over it), on how it feels to be an outcast in a Church, to have your gender denigrated, restricted and defined, to have your sexuality termed "disordered" and sinful, to be frustrated at every attempt to fit into church life while the so-called "spiritual directors" even interfere in my worldly life--to the point of being fired from jobs, thrown in jail, and being denied personal intimate relationships.  And as I sit here tonight, in more possession of my faculties than I have had in recent weeks, that is the most painful of all.  I do not wish to be celibate.  I do not have a vocation to celibacy.  More than anything else, I hope and desire to share my life with a significant other, but instead am forced into this miserable aloneness.  I envy the partnered people I see around me.  At the SLI, they were always trying to arouse envy in me, but the truth is that I really don't envy others very much, but I do envy those who have someone to talk to about their deepest pain, I envy those who sleep next to an inviting warm body, and I envy those who have partnered intimately for life.  I know that God knows my prayer and my gifts and my sexuality.  When will I be free to exercise them?  (Wow, I must be feeling good--I'm actually dealing with real issues, instead of the omnipresent crush of praying for release from the drugs).