It's OK not to be OK.
Has anyone every said that to you? Have you ever admitted that to yourself?
It's OK not to be OK.
When the barista asks how you are, it's OK not to be OK. When your coworker says "Hey how's it going?!" a little too happily on a Thursday morning, it's OK not to be OK. When one of your most loved friends is going on and on about how you have it so great and how you are so lucky (because you *fill in the blank*), it's OK not to be OK.
It's ok to need help, support, assistance, a hug, a drink, eight drinks, a giant teddy bear that says 'Happy Valentine's Day' in September, a vacation, no kids, four kids, rehab, a job, retirement, one whole day of Netflix binging, a new journal, a nap, a divorce, a bucket list, or a re-start.
The beauty in us all being so different is that we will all need a variety of milestones and events in our lives in order to get us to the next stage– the next 'OK'. And after the 'OK'? Maybe after the "OK" there comes an "I'M SO AMAZING THAT THERE ARE ZERO WAYS TO GET ME BETTER THAN I AM RIGHT NOW. I'M ON A CALORIE-FREE CHOCOLATE CLOUD OF ECSTASY".
But.... who knows?
There is nothing wrong with needing a boost to get you to the next 'OK'. I probably know .5 people (that's half a person for those having trouble with decimals) that have gotten to 'OK' on their own. The contentment and maturity of 'OK' comes with support and it comes with doing what is best for you. It comes with first acknowledging that you need some support/assistance/help/a hug, and then taking those things that are given to you and putting them into a personal Vitamix and drinking it whole. Drink it whole over a day, or over 768 days. It can take a while, but remember that it's 'OK'.
It's hard to be open, awkward to be honest.
Over the last couple of week's I've not been OK. My mother was recently diagnosed with breast cancer for the THIRD time. Third as in 3. Three times in the last 20-ish years. You've got to be kidding me. She goes in tomorrow for her port for chemotherapy and will then figure out a time for treatment. The next few months...years? will be interesting and difficult. As an adult daughter I am not quite sure how to proceed in my role with my mother. It's difficult to know that your parents' lives are getting shorter, and even more difficult to see a reason for their lives to come to an abrupt halt (not that it will happen).
At night I think about her sewing my dress when I was a flower girl and taking me to piano lessons every. single. Wednesday. She didn't tell my dad when I snuck out of the house with my friends (to go to some lame skating party?), let me be a cheerleader even when it was going to cost $750 of what we didn't have, and drove 2 hours for my sorority bid-day that lasted all of 10 minutes. She is the strongest and most stubborn woman I know. She knows when to hold her tongue and when to fight back. Her looks could stop your heart and warm your soul. Her pumpkin bread is the only kind I will ever love. She loved me at my best and my worst, even though I'm sure she had at least a few second thoughts on children during my 28 (29 in October!!!) years.
So,
I'm not 'OK' right now and that's ok.
It's OK not to be OK.
Whatever is happening with you, your heart, your body, your family, your friends, your job, your pet, your world....It's OK not to be OK.
Peace, love, and nachos.
-Sarah