Disclaimer: my 10 month old has been allowing me only 2-3 hours of broken sleep per night, lately, which may have had an effect on the following post.

Doubt. Like: as I’ve said before: I’m pro-vaccine, but not completely “sure” of this stance; it just seems like the better option, for now, but I still have doubt. And, to be real honest, this is the same way I’m starting to feel about Traditionalism and my identity as a TradCath. If you’ve read my other Catholic posts, you might be under the impression that I’m super certain, that I’m confident I’ve finally found the Right Church. And I so wanted to be! Man, did I want to be certain of that! But, tbh, I am kind of not. 

I saw a post on Facebook a while ago, some [modern] Catholic commentator, talking (disparagingly) about a certain breed of convert who can’t seem to stop converting. They find the Faith, but rather than resting in it, they keep moving, keep getting weird ideas, keep fault-finding, keep yearning, and mentally/spiritually are just always on the move, researching theories, delving into weird niches. Perpetual converts. 

Sometimes I worry I’m one of those. Perpetually unsatisfied – always finding some reason why this can’t be it. This feels wrong. — But everything always feels wrong.

And the thing is, by this point, nearly two years into this RadTrad thing, I actually do believe that the SSPX is right about their mission and the state of the Church. I do believe that the new Mass is problematic, and that even the other Trad societies are questionable, that the SSPX is the safest place to get real Catholicism. Call me indoctrinated. But I mean I think it’s pretty evident that the Church is in crisis. Even a secular person can see that. You’d have to reeeeally reach to claim otherwise.

So, here in America at least, folks who go to SSPX are, necessarily, very countercultural. And because they’re all so countercultural, they cling to each other for community. They have to. I’m not complaining about this or accusing anyone. It makes perfect sense, it’s just the way humans are. “We’re the only ones who believe this; the outside world is our enemy; we must stick together and keep each other close.” Survival and all. It’s lovely actually. 

But this “tight community” thing also creates an atmosphere of, well, cliqueyness. “If you’re not just like us, you don’t belong.” It ends up feeling like a highly exclusive club. 

And I just don’t vibe with that. It spikes my anxiety like crazy. – but, so what? Maybe it doesn’t matter what I “vibe with,” though. Does it?

I’ve said that I’m convinced that the SSPX is right about their mission and the state of the Church. You’d think that that alone ought to be enough to convince me that I’m really, definitely, for sure in the right place, here at an SSPX chapel — vibes be damned. If all the other people who believe in the Truth are people who don’t happen to “vibe” with me, socially, that doesn’t change the fact that the Truth is the Truth. I’m not here to make friends. Community is cool and all, sure, but I’m here for the Sacraments. (My friend “J” used to talk about the problem of Catholics treating their parishes as “sacrament factories”: showing up to get their sacraments and then dipping, without mingling or making friends or developing a sense of community at all. I agree that’s a less than ideal structure, and generally people shouldn’t do that… but at this point, sorry, J, but I literally feel out of options here.)

Does the social atmosphere of a parish really matter? I think if you have plenty of options to pick from, sure. But in this day and age, in this crisis we’re in, we don’t really have the luxury of caring about social atmosphere. Trad parishes are so few and far between. Like most people, I have to travel a long distance to get to mine, and the only other options are prohibitively far away. So, if I were to let social atmosphere sway me, I’d end up back at the NO.

And you know what, maybe I just will! I miss some things about the NO sometimes. I miss how easy it was. Oh man do I miss how easy it was!! I miss not feeling intensely judged and scrutinized every single second that I’m on church property. I miss the ten-minute commute, allowing us to wake at a normal hour and saunter out the door at a normal time for the 11am Mass, which lasted an hour tops. I miss the nursery full of toys where my kids could play while I listened to Mass. I miss not having to struggle so much to get them to behave and sit up straight like The Jones’s perfect kids can behave and sit up straight. Because let’s be real, my kids were some of the only, sometimes the only little kids at that church! All the boomers and seniors were just so happy to see actual, real live children at church – there was no judgment! Or at least, comparatively very little!

Not so at the SSPX! Here, you’re an anomaly if you’re a married woman under 50 and not pregnant. Here, 8-9 is an average number of kids per family. Here, you’re an anomaly if you don’t have 20 acres and a cow. Here, if your kids fidget in Mass, it means that you’re modernist trash and failing as a parent and personally responsible for the downfall of Western society (that’s the vibe I get, anyway). Watch how you dress, watch where you step and when, watch how you speak. Eggshells.

As someone with AVPD, I’m more sensitive to social stress than the average person. Social stress at the NO was maybe 50-60%, about the same as a trip to the grocery store. Social stress at the TLM is a solid 92-98%, every week. It’s enough to really weigh on you, to cast a shadow of dread on the whole back half of the week. It’s gotten to where when I’m at home and see images of the TLM on the internet, I feel slightly queasy, sick with dread. Because it makes me think about the social stress of Sundays. Which is horrible! Only demons feel queasy at the sight of Mass. What is wrong with me. The anticipation of Holy Mass shouldn’t feel like that.

You know what would help?, the little voices say to me: a drink! That would really fix everything! — you see, you could say this is all taking a toll on my poor wittle mental health.

But, is that a good enough reason to switch back to an inferior Mass? 

There are a couple of different stories I could choose to tell myself about this whole situation. Story one: me suffering through the social stress at the TLM, and taking the hit to my mental health because it’s a superior Mass, is a good sacrifice that I can offer to God in union with Christ, to show Him I love Him enough to make myself so uncomfortable week after week in order to honor Him as He deserves. This is my little cross, this is my lot in life. Story two: my feelings of dread and fear and “not belonging” are actually my God-given intuition telling me I need to leave, that it really is no place for me; maybe I can “trust my gut” and “listen to my heart,” as they say; maybe the NO is good enough; maybe comfort matters; maybe this is all a lesson in being softer and nicer to myself. Maybe something being more difficult doesn’t necessarily make that thing more noble.

Which story to believe? — well, it ain’t gonna be Story Two. It has a hole in it: I never said that the difficulty is what makes the TLM superior. It’s the other way around. It’s the superiority that makes the TLM difficult. 

The TLM is superior, and that is a bigger issue than my anxiety, and that’s all there is to it.

And anyway, my feeling “different” from these people at church – is it just my imagination? I’ve been doing this shit since I was a kid. I’ve been aware of this pattern, but unable to break it, since I was in high school. I tell myself that everyone hates me and I don’t belong, and I start to believe it. And I start “identifying out.” And then leaning into that – really owning it. Doing little passive things to assert my differentness, like a quiet, cowardly middle finger to the imaginary haters. At my first college, the elite private rich white preppy heavily-Greek one, I leaned into the “alt” persona: facial piercings, zippers and grommets, bitterness and angst. Because I’m not like you all. At my second college, the public liberal art school full of weirdos and LGBTQs and atheists, I leaned into the “Conservative Catholic” persona: taking the piercings out, feigning asceticism, going to church, dressing more “normal” than everyone else. Because I’m not like you all. Wherever I go, I’m “not like you all,” and assume everyone hates me and so I start to become the enemy that I imagine myself to be, or whatever. How exhausting, how juvenile. I’ve noticed this tendency rearing its ugly head in me lately as all this church stuff has been weighing on me. It feels great, a small physical gesture, a minor wardrobe shift, a quiet act of rebellion — but is it a good kind of great?

Why do I identify out all the time? And why at church specifically? These people agree with me on the most important thing, and agree with me that it’s the most important thing! We have everything that matters in common! Why must I pull the old “identify out” move here, of all places? – I feel so different from these people. I insist to myself that it’s because I’m not rich or a farmer… but, is it really just my sinfulness? My worldliness? Maybe all these people are just holier than me and I’m mad about it? Because I lack their strength and resilience? Because I like my little worldly comforts too much to let go of all of them? Maybe I feel uncomfortable around them because, in the company of such holy and wholesome individuals, I’m acutely aware of how dirty my soul is. Maybe if I gave up everything – my terrible music, my TV shows, my little stories, and above all this stupid blog where I post shitty, lowbrow, profanity-laden content bitching about my pet peeves and things I hate and gushing about my favorite rappers and my favorite gross shows on HBO and worst of all sharing my own shitty little stories that are all sensual and shallow and celebrate disordered romantic relationships – maybe if I gave up all that, I’d be less ashamed to show my face at Holy Mass.

Probably this is it. But am I willing to give all that up?

Should I shut down this blog, or make it into something else – something holier, where all I ever post is lovely clean wholesome and religious content? I originally created this blog to give my “weird” side a place to sound off – a place where I could be authentically myself, as like an experiment to see if it clicked with anyone out there in the universe. A message in a bottle out to sea. As a mom of littles and a TradCath, I don’t get to be my weird self irl too often if ever; Weird Mith wanted to breathe. I figured I’d let her. I figured this blog is just a bunch of harmless catharsis, but maybe this blog is a big part of the problem.

But watch. Watch me get rid of it and still feel unworthy, like an alien. I’ve tried this tactic before – “maybe going full ascetic monk will make me feel better about myself,” “if you want to have healthy self-esteem, do things that are esteemable,” “just don’t put a single foot wrong ever and everything will be ok” – and it never works. It actually tends to make things worse, and fuel the fire of my extremist, addictive, all-or-nothing thinking. 

– but maybe that’s just me making excuses though because this blog is fun for me and I don’t wanna give it up. 

So: given that I fully agree with the SSPX philosophically; and, given that I don’t buy Story Two above; and, given that I’m not willing to stop being a weirdo; that leaves me with only one available course of action: continue going to church where I am, and just fucking deal with it. Just put on my big girl pants and grow up and accept that life is hard and etc. etc. etc. 

So I guess all this rambling brought me full circle. Right back to where I started. Going to Mass is just going to be a challenge and a sacrifice, I guess. I wish it didn’t have to be like that. Like the great Archbishop, j’accuse the Council: I blame V2. If the Church had never become fractured like it is into the Trads vs. Modernists – if Tradition had remained the norm – then Traditionalism wouldn’t be this exclusive, niche, countercultural thing! Then I wouldn’t feel like I had to “measure up” to belong to my own parish. – but, such are the times we live in. It’s a great tragedy, and keeping in mind what a great tragedy it is for the whole Church actually helps me put my own little suffering in perspective. My little experience of social alienation, it’s just one of many symptoms of the larger problem which is the crisis. For whatever reason God chose for me to live during this era of the Church in crisis. To complain about His will for me would be a gesture of ingratitude and disrespect. So I just have to keep going. So, in this post, I’ve solved absolutely nothing, really, except that maybe this blog is the problem. Maybe Weird Mith needs to die. If I don’t let her breathe anymore, she has to suffocate eventually, right? So I’ve solved nothing — just generated more doubt.