T.M. Shannon

Hi everyone,

It has been a mixed bag of a week.

The result of my last was lot of people to the Short Stories page for the first chapter of Three Ways, and indeed some likes/loves on the boosted post – but alas no comments, none of the leading questions answered.

Do people not want to comment because I’m so small scale? Were they into the chapter until Jimmy was Jimmy then bailed? Do I suck as an author? Guess I’ll never know.

Then there’s the dreams, and ooh boy are my meds throwing up some doozies, vivid and sometimes fun, but at the cost of rest, and it’s never nice to have to work and get by with bipolar when you’re a little haggard.

I had a very minor accident where my poor baby ate a towball at very low speed (I do believe the ute was unscathed, but I’ll check up on that). But I managed well, didn’t get shaky, and I’m not reliving things.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, I got the book done! I may or may not have started line editing by the time you read this post.

For R U OK? Day Thursday, on the company’s intranet post, I commented I wasn’t okay, had bipolar and addiction, that I was in treatment, and went on to speak up for what the day could mean for someone with the brave face

And I shouted out the manager who has always checked if I’m okay after tense moments or when they noticed I was on meds changes – the perfect embodiment of asking, “Are you okay?”

I got two replies. These are the only 3 comments on the article. So much for caring, eh?

And it got a dose of alarm from some higher ups that went to the centre manager (talk about stigma, am I right?).

Speaking of, said manager had a chat with me about my improved work performance, discussion of development opportunities, who was surprised to read the post and learn something, and assured me there was nothing alarming in how I commented and appreciated my honesty.

Um, yay? YAY! Not a bad ending, and D&D was awesome, we got the sword arm initial boss dead and we’re stomping on some gargoyles at the moment.

Post time? Post time. Post time is good.

I Don’t Exist Despite Existing

I got called f****t at school, being perceived as weak – the Central Coast wasn’t a nice place to spend your teenage years.

It wasn’t as bad as the homophobic texts I got after sharing my number at a young queer guy’s group run by ACON, which scared the shit out of me.

But along my early travels going to Midnight Shift and getting picked up a lot (perfect record), I copped biphobia from a queer person.

So, I was having a chat to the bartender, showing off the grapple wrestling section of a 15^th Century fight manual, replete with a grab the neck and nuts and hoist move, chuckling from a queer POV.

I got asked how I identified, and said I was bisexual. The bartender said there’s no such thing as bisexuality.

It hurt. I knew my identity, there was no doubt, I’d interacted with men, women, and a trans person. And here’s someone in the community that I’m meant to be a part of saying my sexuality didn’t exist, despite me existing.

Biphobia exists everywhere, straights thinking we’re on the way to gay town, queers might think we’re in gay denial or claiming privilege in cis man/woman relationships (this was all before Same Sex Marriage).

And granted there are bi married men who have sex with other men, which I have thoughts on I might bring up elsewhere. And I could go on for days, but I’m sticking to experiences.

As for the bartender, I managed to blurt out, “Agree to disagree,” but I feel it’s the weakest thing I ever said, I don’t believe it made an impact, and I was inwardly pissed off at this guy.

It has passed, it’s a bit of a better place now, but yeah hearing you don’t exist when you do is rude, when I accept people as they are and identify.

I Deny Trans People, But Wasn’t Asked if I Did

After conversion, I found my way to the Acceptance ministry, so I could enjoy services and fellowship with other queer Catholics, and that was good

Except for one inappropriate individual who, on one occasion, likened taking the Eucharist to giving head.

I tried to have a conversation with them another time and not only getting steamrolled, but with each approach into my personal space and me stepping back, I wound up bumping into a pillar and realising I wasn’t safe.

I stood up for myself, the next service I spoke to the organiser about how uncomfortable I was and that I would speak to the individual, I did said we can’t converse, I didn’t feel safe around them, did it all proper and assertive.

Then I made sure they were the first person I made the sign of peace with that night, but I digress, because it’s our first encounter that really hurt.

So, you might’ve or might’nt’ve guessed by the theys this person is non-binary, and I gotta admit the ladies’ blouse and pants they wore one night suited them very well.

Anyway, it was the, “How do you identity?” part of a first meeting, and I said I was bisexual – and was accused of denying trans people. What the hell?

Like I said above, I accept people as they are and identify. You say you’re Greg, you’re Greg. You say you’re a man when AFAB, you’re a man. You’re nonbinary, something else not gay/lesbian, nice to meet you.

It’s so easy to do, a phobe could manage it if they put away the insta-hate.

These aren’t the exact words, but the implication was, “You deny trans people.”

Well, did you ask me if I acknowledged and accepted trans people? No. And honestly given I could be attracted to anybody on the planet, you might even say I could be pan, though bi is my word.

Since then, too, I’ve found that bisexual is now defined as being attracted to two or more genders.

So, no, I don’t deny trans people. My response was a meek, “No I accept trans people.” But I’ve brought this up on reddit a couple of times and both times it’s been, “Sorry you experienced that.”

And still, I’m not hating on every enby because of one person.

Ugh, much bad, sickening feelings. I’m glad it’s passed.

But You Married a Woman

This one a year ago really rankled.

It was Wear it Purple Day, the organisation dedicated to helping younger queer people be themselves and be supported, one queer representative day my work celebrates along with IDAHOBIT Day and Mardi Gras.

I wasn’t out at work, just to one manager who moved to another centre some years before, and last year we were all gathering in the boardroom for purple cupcakes.

I can’t remember what was said but it was a good-natured joke about identity, nothing harmful, and I mentioned, “I’m LGBTQ, I welcome you.”

Someone asked to clarify what I said. I identified, “I’m LGBTQ,” which was what I was comfortable with saying, and it was enough said.

Then this someone exclaimed, “But you married a woman!”

Dude, what the hell? It frigging hurt, it put me on the spot, and I had to out myself as bi, which I was not expecting or prepared to do.

It’s all shades of bi invisibility to begin with. Hell, my partner could be an trans woman and you wouldn’t’ve known at all, guy.

But on a day that’s meant to support younger queer people, in a company that prides itself on queer inclusion, where a closeted or questioning person could hear and wonder if the walk we walk, is just talk and talk?

It could’ve harmed that someone, if they were there, they might’ve recoiled, could’ve quit about it.

I hope if it had happened and a queer someone was affected, they might reach out, if not to me but the other queer manager at the time (still with us btw).

It was an absolutely horrible experience I was going to bring up this Wear it Purple Day but after 13 hours waiting to be seen in Emergency I had to sleep. Oh well, there’s always next year.

The Agenda, or, Factuality

Online hasn’t seen much of me being representatively queer. I did get blocked on Church Militant because I dared to be centre of the road leaning on progressive (that was a pile on and a half).

But I basically identified and said something about inclusion or another, something innocuous, and was told, “You have an agenda.”

Yeah, mister bipolar, I wrote The Torment, The Shadow, The Heart on the seat of my pants, Three Ways with a very minimal outline (one chapter nth degree, most mechanical scene if written to date), just existing as a queer person and talking about being compassionate, like I have the time and patience to have a tick-box list to destroy all that is good and holy.

I wish, but it’d be a list of craft beer bars and cafes to visit in Melbourne (I’ve heard good things).

But seriously, what’s with the agenda nonsense? At best I can see queer people want peace, love, happiness, and acceptance, you know, “Love your neighbour as you love yourself.”

As I’ve seen and now experienced second-hand, there’s no hate like Christian love.

But the best I got was in reply to identifying as a bisexual Catholic (not the only queer Catholic) – it’s part of my big three, bisexual, bipolar, and bicommunal, always two things at the same time.

You can’t be “Catholic” and bisexual. Fact!

Look, the Bible isn’t currently the most queer-friendly book around, even if you question the 1946 re-translation that put the word homosexual in the scripture.

That said, if you’re jumping to Sodom and Gomorrah, that was going to be gang rape and unbelievably inhospitable, and I sincerely believe it’s only tied together with Lot offering up his daughters to the men – what a guy!

Digressing again, yeah I do that a lot.

But I read the Compendium of the Catechism, and two rules are Church marriage only for men and women, and no sex outside of marriage with anyone, gay, straight, bi, or however you identify. Okay, I can live by that.

The one that hurts is same sex attraction being, “Intrinsically disordered.”

Knowing sexuality is intrinsic to the person, queer people are thus intrinsically disordered, and I say stop beating around the bush and call us disordered and stop claiming moralistic superiority over us – not good.

And yet, nothing said you can’t be gay, bi, whatever in the Church. That fact was pulled out of somewhere stinky.

I didn’t bother replying, but it gives me a laugh. It’s Mount Everest out of a molehill. Love your neighbour is so easy, but someone’s gotta be scared of those who aren’t like them, like the Scribe I’ll mention in October.

Just accept, life is so much better.

The Final Full Stop

Look at that, a 12-minute read after whatever I put out last week (it didn’t happen, I was in Disneyland… DIS-NEY-LAND!).

The phobia I faced doesn’t define me or prove I’m queer. I’m not stronger for it, it cut to the bone. But going through it, facing gross in-your-face phobia in Three Ways, and the background phobia, is all bemusing to me now.

I know it’s not every queer experience, I’ve seen more than a handful of doozies on reddit, the whole disownership, kicking kids out of home, the people who’ve been through conversion “therapies” (read, torture).

It’s effed up, and we need to confront these evils, support the victims of religious and secular harm, help them get to services, do R U OK? Day every day by checking in on them, community compassion, something the world misses in, “Me, me, me,” political focus.

I’ll call it quits before I get all political and celebrate being on the final full stop in Three Ways – well, until I’m done line editing and potentially winding up on a third draft (going to be a bit before I can get edited anyway).

So, wherever you are, however you identify, I hope you’re safe and supported, but if not, know that this not-okay queer guy has you mind, and hopes you can find the support and services you need.

So long as someone is confirmed safe, ideally community, reach out when you’re ready.

Take care,

T. M.