Are You Okay?
We always ask each other, "How are you doing?" The polite answer is usually "fine" or some synonym or phrase meaning the same thing. Of course, there are those times when we know we are lying through our teeth. Our reasons include maintaining our privacy and keeping others from worrying about us. However, when someone asks, "Are you okay?" It's because they think something is wrong. We get asked are we okay when we fall down, run into something, or any other time where it appears that we may be hurt. Sometimes we get asked this when our facial expressions or body language give the appearance that something is not right. Then there is this other question, "What's the matter?" This question is asked when someone is sure that the information they are receiving from their senses is telling them that you need help. It says that they are willing to do something about it. But what if you don't know.
I've read similar stories about people with a nail or a piece of shrapnel embedded in their head for days or years before knowing what the cause of their headaches are. When I was a little kid, people were always asking me, "What's the matter?" Then they would follow up with, "Smile." They were usually church people. I didn't know anything was wrong except the fact that they were trying to validate themselves by trying to force smiles on me in vain. Sometimes I think of those times and wonder if it was just because I didn't trust people. Outside of the people I lived with it seemed I was always getting teased. I figure I was just putting on my soldier face. Of course, all of this figuring is years after the fact like an X-ray years after shrapnel has been embedded in a war victim's skull.
So what is the litmus test for determining if you're too far on the "not okay" side? I mean am I too base or too alkaline? If you kissed me, would your lips turn red or blue? Because sometimes when we're just making it from day to day, we quit checking ourselves. I mean how long can you think and consider your situation and not let it destroy you. A friend of mine was explaining once how prisoners of war sometimes don't lose their sanity until after the crisis is over. Survival doesn't allow you time to ponder fairness or to stop and check your bandaged or scabbed wounds. The most you can do is whisper mental curses at the oppresors and spiritual prayers at your god, but you'll ignore your broken and bruised flesh.
So let's answer the question to the best of my ability at this moment. How am I? Fine. Am I okay? Doesn't matter. It's not about me. What's the matter? I honestly don't have the privilege of taking the time to know.
I've read similar stories about people with a nail or a piece of shrapnel embedded in their head for days or years before knowing what the cause of their headaches are. When I was a little kid, people were always asking me, "What's the matter?" Then they would follow up with, "Smile." They were usually church people. I didn't know anything was wrong except the fact that they were trying to validate themselves by trying to force smiles on me in vain. Sometimes I think of those times and wonder if it was just because I didn't trust people. Outside of the people I lived with it seemed I was always getting teased. I figure I was just putting on my soldier face. Of course, all of this figuring is years after the fact like an X-ray years after shrapnel has been embedded in a war victim's skull.
So what is the litmus test for determining if you're too far on the "not okay" side? I mean am I too base or too alkaline? If you kissed me, would your lips turn red or blue? Because sometimes when we're just making it from day to day, we quit checking ourselves. I mean how long can you think and consider your situation and not let it destroy you. A friend of mine was explaining once how prisoners of war sometimes don't lose their sanity until after the crisis is over. Survival doesn't allow you time to ponder fairness or to stop and check your bandaged or scabbed wounds. The most you can do is whisper mental curses at the oppresors and spiritual prayers at your god, but you'll ignore your broken and bruised flesh.
So let's answer the question to the best of my ability at this moment. How am I? Fine. Am I okay? Doesn't matter. It's not about me. What's the matter? I honestly don't have the privilege of taking the time to know.
posted by Reyhan at
2:33 PM
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