I guess we all feel guilt, at some point in our lives.
But I suffer from Catholic guilt.
It is a strange phenomenon. I feel guilty about things I haven’t even done wrong. I feel responsible for things that are of no concern to me whatsoever. I take on work or tasks because I feel guilty if I don’t.
Just this morning, I filled out a survey. I fill out a lot of surveys it seems. I used to think I liked doing it, but I’ve discovered that isn’t the reason at all. It just came to me ten minutes ago. I do this because of Catholic guilt.
In this case, I had attempted to cancel my subscription to the New York Times. I’ve been canceling a lot of subscriptions this week, to cut down on spending. I decided to get rid of the ones that I don’t rely on heavily. And, with the NYT, I can get my news from many other sources. While I enjoy reading the editorials, they are not a necessity, and the great ones are repeated in other places. But that is all a little too much information, like you would care about that, or how much salt I put on my eggs this morning.
Back to the matter at hand. This morning, the NYT sent me a survey, asking about my recent experience with one of their agents. So, I laboriously took the time to fill it out.
Catholic guilt. I had no other reason to do this. No allegiance to the New York Times. But as it sat in my Inbox, I could not bring myself to just press down on the delete key with my index finger. It wouldn’t go.
So, yes. Now the NYT knows exactly how I feel about that encounter.
I’m not sure how old I was when that guilt took hold of my brain. But from an early age, I was always befriending the new kid in school, or sticking up for Tim Holztenmeyer, who always had a little trail of snot coming out of his right nostril, and pants above his ankles. I don’t think I was being nice. I just somehow felt guilty if I didn’t.
So, it has been going on for a long time.
I think, coupled with the fact that I’m an empath, and have OCD, that my life is one big swirl of just trying to keep everything in its place. The ducks in that row. Everything from how the kitchen towel hangs on the oven handle, to the comings and goings of U.S. politics.
The thing about Catholic Guilt is that I’m not sure how it got in me in the first place. I mean, Catholics aren’t bible people. The only time the bible came into our lives was during Mass, during the readings, the gospel. And a few courtesy lines at the consecration of the body and blood. So, that’s not it.
Was it in our school lunches? Did they lace the Johnny Marzetti with something? Or the peanut butter bread? Perhaps the nuns somehow beat it into us. I simply don’t know.
More than anything, I’m a people pleaser, and I have trouble saying no. (Although, the older I get, the more I’ve been able to spout out that little two-letter-word.). But mostly, I want to be liked.
Then again, maybe this isn’t a Catholic thing at all.
Maybe everyone has these symptoms, in some form or another. Perhaps, everyone wants to be liked.
Hey. Maybe I’ll take a survey and find out.
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“Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.”
― Voltaire
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“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”
― Confucius, Confucius: The Analects
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“Thinking something does not make it true. Wanting something does not make it real.”
― Michelle Hodkin, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer
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