
A Good Report

I went to see my doctor yesterday. It turned out to be a really good visit. My A1C has dropped to 5.2. I have been taking Metformin and Jardiance for my diabetes, however, because I seem to respond better to the Jardiance than I ever did to the Metformin, he dropped the Metformin. Also, I’d lost another five pounds since I saw him on February 14. We also talked about my anxiety triggers: work, family, and moving. I told him about how bad Tuesday’s panic attack was, and he prescribed me some Xanax for when I need it. At the maximum, he only wants me to take two a week. I’ve taken Xanax before because I used to have panic attacks when I flew, but as I have flown quite a bit since moving to Vermont in 2015, it doesn’t bother me as much. He told me that if the anxiety increases, he can increase my antidepressant, but hopefully, things will settle down once I move.
My weekend is going to be pretty busy. Besides packing over the weekend, tonight, I am going to see a production of Chicago my university is doing. Chicago is one of my favorite musicals, and I fondly remember going to see it on Broadway with Susan when I went down to NYC for Thanksgiving and my birthday in 2019. Tomorrow night, I have another date with the guy I saw last week. If all goes as planned, he’s going to cook me dinner. I can’t wait. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been on a second date with anyone? It’s never happened while I lived in Vermont. Sunday should be a day for laundry and packing.
Saint Patrick’s Gay ☘️🏳️🌈

“Luck is when an opportunity comes along and you’ve prepared for it.”
—Saint Patrick
St. Patrick, originally named Maewyn Succat, was a fifth-century Romano-British Christian missionary and bishop in Ireland. Known as the “Apostle of Ireland”, he is the primary patron saint of that country. Each year on This day, Irish and Catholics everywhere celebrate the Feast of Saint Patrick who died on March 17, 461.
Saint Patrick’s Day is a time for grand celebration in many parts of the world, with green beer and shamrocks sprouting in the most unlikely places. So what do you do, if you want to join in the fun, but cannot find a trace of green blood in your ancestry, no matter how far back you go? Good old St Patrick is one of a surprising number of queer saints and martyrs in Christian history, giving gays, Irish or not, an excuse to enjoy his day.
In his book on Irish gay history, Terrible Queer Creatures, Brian Lacey presents some evidence that Patrick may have had a long term intimate relationship with a man:
St. Patrick himself may have had a relationship tinged with homoeroticism. Tirechan, a late seventh century cleric who wrote about St. Patrick, tells the story of a man Patrick visited and converted to Christianity, who had a son to whom Patrick took a strong liking.
Tirechan wrote that “he gave him the name Benignus, because he took Patrick’s feet between his hands and would not sleep with his father and mother, but wept unless he would be allowed to sleep with Patrick.” Patrick baptized the boy and made him his close lifelong companion, so much so that Benignus succeeded Patrick as bishop of Armagh.
This is a rather tenuous basis for a claim that Patrick was gay, but there is more from his youth. He was originally brought to Ireland as a Roman slave. In Ancient Roman society, slaves, male and female, were freely used for sexual purposes. Later, young Maewyn Succat escaped, but returned to undertake the evangelizing of Ireland that he’s famed for. To pay his way back, there is a claim that he worked as a prostitute.
This is still short of really hard evidence – but hagiography, the writing of the lives of saints, is not history. The most famous popular belief about St Patrick, that he chased the snakes out of Ireland, is certainly not true (there never were any), but that doesn’t deter anybody from repeating it, regardless. When it comes to the life of saints, definitive proof is not a criteria for a saints life story.
Irrespective of our view on the historic Patrick, there’s a deeper, serious reason for thinking about him. For too long, Christianity has been badly abused as a weapon against sexual minorities, but there are undoubtedly a large number of people in church history that in today’s terminology, would be considered LGBTQ+, but who nevertheless achieved high office in the Church, as bishops, abbesses, and popes, or honored as Christian saints and martyrs. There are bishops who wrote frankly erotic poetry and love letters addressed to each other, bishops who secured appointments to vacant sees for their boyfriends, and popes who slept with men, or commissioned homoerotic paintings from the great Renaissance artists. There are even the forerunners of our modern trans men – biological females, who lived as males in men-only monasteries.
Secular historians have gone a long way in uncovering our hidden history. We are blessed by God with our sexuality. We are His creation, and to quote St, Patrick, “Hence I cannot be silent, and indeed I ought not to be, about the many blessings and the great grace which the Lord has designed to bestow upon me.”Doing the same for our place in church history can make a small contribution to countering religious bullying. Just consider: the next time you hear offensive remarks from a homophobic Irish neighbor or colleague, just point out to him: St Paddy was queer.
I will leave you with one final quote from St. Patrick:
“May good luck be with you wherever you go. And your blessings outnumber the shamrocks that grow.”
—Saint Patrick
This modified article was originally written by Terence Weldon, a UK based gay Catholic activist He writes on general matters of faith and sexuality, and was first published on Bilerico in 2012.
Rough Day

Yesterday was a bit of a rough day. I was fine most of the morning at work, but my mother called. Few people can ruin my day like she often can. She didn’t say anything really offensive, but it’s the way she starts in about things. I can’t seem to do much right in her eyes. After I got off the phone with her, I had a full-blown panic attack. I’ve been having panic attacks recently, but this is really the first one that came while I was at work. I’m not always sure what causes them, but I can pretty well pinpoint this one to the phone call from my mother.
Right after I talked to her, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, my heart began to race, I began to shake, and I just want to curl up into a ball and cry. When this happens, I’m unable to concentrate on anything, and I just get so flustered. My head feels like it’s going to explode, and I have this hot sensation all over my head. I got up from my desk and walked outside and around the building, hoping some fresh air might help, but it didn’t. I sat down in one of the comfy armchairs in the museum’s lobby (no one was around), and that too didn’t help. Furthermore, I had a meeting that was supposed to start soon, but I knew it wasn’t that important. So, I went to my boss and told him I was having a panic attack and needed to go home. I know, it was probably not the best idea to drive in that condition, but I felt I had to get out of there.
I needed to be home, in my private space, so I could lay down in the dark for a while. It took a few hours to finally calm down, but it did happen. I was actually able to run to the grocery store, like I’d planned to do yesterday afternoon anyway. While it was only the grocery store, I calmed down looking at food and doing a little retail therapy. By the time I got home, I felt relatively normal again.
I hate the sensation of a panic attack. I used to get these every time I had to fly or anytime money was an issue, like unexpected expenses that couldn’t be avoided. Now, I can probably add talking to my mother to the list. I think one of the triggers may have been her talking about me going home. I haven’t been back to Alabama since the pandemic began, and I think it has done wonders for my mental stability. However, the thought of going back to Alabama again is something that, for the most part, I dread.
Younger Me

Younger Me
Songwriters: Kendell Marvel / John Osborne / Thomas Osborne
Younger me
Made it harder than it had to be
Trying hard to dodge my destiny
Would get the best of me
Younger me
Way too young to pace a bedroom floor
Always dreamed of kicking down the door
What were you waiting for
Younger me
Was as reckless as he should have been
Close calls and downfalls and getting back up again
And doing it all again
Younger me
Overthinking, losing sleep at night
Contemplating if it’s worth the fight
If he only knew he’d be alright
Yeah, younger me
Youth ain’t wasted on the young
These trips around the sun
I needed every one
To get where I’m standing now
It’s an uphill road to run
For my father’s son
Keep it together
It won’t be that way forever
Younger me
Hanging out but not quite fitting in
Didn’t know that being different
Really wouldn’t be the end
Younger me (yeah)
Yeah
Yeah, oh
Yeah
Youth ain’t wasted on the young
These trips around the sun
I needed every one
To get where I’m standing now
It’s an uphill road to run
Yeah, for my father’s son
Keep it together
It won’t be that way forever
Younger me
You got me where I am today
Got a few things right along the way
You’ll see, just wait
Younger me
About the Song
T.J. Osborne publicly came out as gay in an interview with Time on February 3, 2021. Following his coming out, Osborne wrote “Younger Me” as a letter to his younger self. Like many of us who have come out, Osborne said, “I’ve always wished I could speak to my younger self, give him a hug and show him who he’d become and what he’d achieve. Once I came out, that feeling was so overwhelmingly strong that this song was born.”
One of the things that makes country music so popular is that it is relatable. “Younger Me” blends that relatable country storytelling with a bit of a pop anthem. The song is a refreshing take on country music nostalgia. Often, nostalgic songs look back fondly on the songwriter’s childhood and simpler times, and the present is either presented as hard or having lost its innocence along the way. “Younger Me” is a different kind of story.
The song perfectly encapsulates a more compelling kind of nostalgia that does not rewrite the complexities and confusion of childhood: “Overthinking, losing sleep at night / contemplating if it’s worth the fight”. The lyrics are crisp and vital, evoking specific details (“To pace a bedroom floor”), and are wonderfully free of cliché. For Brothers’ Osborne, the future hold both threat and possibility, and the past contains both hurt and experiences from which to learn and grow.
Brothers Osborne’s music has always had a broad appeal amongst pop and country fans, and “Younger Me” perfects this balance. This is a dazzling pop anthem if ever I heard one, yet the sharp storytelling proves that Osborne is a bona fide country songwriter too.
T.J. Osborne is gay and proud with this song and shows that it is possible not only to be queer in country music, but also to celebrate these aspects of ourselves. “Younger Me” is the perfect embrace that a queer kid might need, a Pride anthem for country music fans.
Thank you, Dylan, for introducing me to this song.













