What Does It Mean to be O.K.? (#19)

What does it mean to be o.k.?  I’ve been wondering this a lot lately.  "How are you" being the most common greeting, there's no way to avoid wondering, especially since I'd burst into tears when asked this automated greeting over the last two months.  While undergoing difficult times, this salutation feels like fingernails on a chalk board and this is not exclusive to grief. In fact, let's broaden the definition of bereavement beyond the death of a loved one because really, many of us have dealt with grief on different levels like a loss of a job, ending of a relationship, financial hardships, the death of a pet (ugh) and etc.     

Most people buck up and lie, saying "they're fine" but not me.  For some weird reason, I pause if I'm unable to speak the truth much like a deer in headlights.  It’s obvious.  It’s ridiculous.  And, I don’t know if it’s my OCD or what, yet I become discombobulated lying about my emotional state even to strangers. 

Here’s an example; I was at Whole Foods picking up some items when the friendly cashier asked how I was.  This was the day I found out that my mother was dying; my disillusionment had been eradicated.  All my hope had been sucked from my soul much like the wind from a diaphragm when punched in the stomach.  Caught off guard by the cashier's question, I shrugged my shoulders.  For whatever reason, the cashier felt a need to inform me that everything gets better.  I said nothing.    

My silence made her uncomfortable so she proceeded to give me her “rainbows and butterflies” ideology. Finally, I had to ask her to stop, please.  She reacted as though I was an evil pessimist.  Her face showed her shock and disdain.  I knew her heart was in the right place; the problem was that my heart was not.  I looked her directly in the eye and said in a soft voice, “Sometimes, things don’t get better because sometimes, better means death.  So, as I said before, please, stop.”  Everyone froze around me and I realized that I had just spread my anger and pain into the world.  Damn….

Clearly, I needed a better approach than a shrug of my shoulders or a despondent look for the traditional exchange of how are you.  What to do, what to do?  I had no answer at first so I minimized my public interactions.  Eventually, though, it became clear.  I was approaching this all wrong.  Instead of "lying" to those around me, I needed to redefine what o.k means to me.  What I mean by this is rather than  using some pre-fabricated social standard of o.k., I needed to look within myself for that understanding.  After all, they were my feelings and therefore, subject to my interpretation, right? 

Greatest thing about having a history of falling apart, my past reactions became a point of comparison for how I was handling my issues now.  Over the years, I saw subtle changes, my anger dissipated faster; my communication became clearer.  There were times, I’d over-react but I noticed that I’d account within hours rather than days or weeks.

When I view my responses from just a few years ago versus my present response, I realized something so pivotal that it borders on an epiphany; I am o.k.  Don’t get me wrong, I feel a wallowing sadness and an emptiness where my mom’s voice and laughter used to be, but still, I’m o.k.  What I mean by o.k. is that despite my emotional upheaval, I continue to be both competent and capable. 

If you have an anxiety disorder or are in a point of your life where fear plays a big factor, you probably expect perfection from yourself and anything less, creates apprehension.  Yet, what are you using as a definition of perfect or a definition of normal?  Most likely, it’s someone else’s baseline and this is an unfair standard as well as a set up for failure from the get go.  When you use yourself as a baseline, you’re able to appreciate your small steps and accomplishments even if you are not where you wish to be; if you fall apart, you are able to appreciate how much faster you are at getting up.  

Life may be a shared experience but your understanding of it is a personal endeavor so individualize it; redefine it; own it!  I’m sorry that it took the death of my mother to be able to communicate this message, but if there is a silver lining in all this, owning what it means to be o.k. would be it…at least, for now.