I hate this question, “Are you ok?” My body cringes, eyes roll, and arms tense up when people ask me this.
I’ll tell you why.
I don’t think no one ever is “ok”. Let’s be honest. How about we define what ok is? Oh right. Ok doesn’t have a definition.
But let’s just imagine if it did.
“Ok is defined as being content with your life”
Well, if this is the case no one is ok. I don’t think any high school senior is okay that college is so expensive. That half of us, if we don’t get a full ride or proper scholarships, will be paying off student loans for a majority of our lives.
I don’t think our parents are ok. They probably might be when their children are first born and watching them grow up. But once their kids are teens and start not needing to be attached to mommy and daddy every day, parents aren’t ok. They feel their children are being distant or secretive or secluded. Need anymore synonyms?
How about cancer patients? Are they ok? I would think not. They didn’t ask to have a deadly disease eat at them every single day. To lose their hair, to lose their strength, to lose their life.
This is the same for
HIV and AID victims.
Are they ok?
How about the parents of Trayvon Martin, Hadiya Pendleton, or the Sandy Hook Victims? I don’t think they’ll ever be ok. No one can bring back their angels. No matter how many tears they shed, they won’t see their babies again. And the media on their backs like hyenas, probably doesn’t give them a chance to properly grieve.
I’m not ok.
I know for a fact I’m not.
I’m not ok that I’ll have 50% vision for the rest of my life. Yes, I’ve overcome it and I’ve used my disease as my motivation. But, at the end of the day the people around me have 2 eyes and I don’t. That won’t change.
I’m not ok that I’m sensitive. That every little criticism irritates me. That I over think everything. That I care about others more than myself. That this has been my personality since I was 5, and it still hasn’t changed.
I’m not ok that my love life sucks. That the girl that I love can’t see how much I care about her. That I’ve been struggling with my sexual preference since I started puberty. and that my sexual preference affects my religion, my family and my friendships.
I’m not ok that senior year isn’t what I expected. That the week of homecoming was the week of the funeral of my friend that committed suicide. That my speech season ended way too soon. That by telling the truth about how I felt about a show I was cast in, ended my theater journey. That I possibly can’t go to the college of my dreams because I probably can’t afford it.
That when I was at my ultimate high this year, I lost someone who was a dear friend. To another suicide.
And I blame myself every single day for it.
And that my life won’t be the same.
I’m not ok that the day before my 18th birthday. I’m worried about my sanity, my mother’s health, about losing my best friend to something that I can’t change, and that I’m writing a blog like this with a heavy heart
SO PLEASE DON’T ASK
ARE YOU OK?
HOW ARE YOU?
I hate those questions cause they bring negative vibes.
This is not a blog to say my life sucks.
This is a blog to say life is hard, and it’s not getting easier.
“What’s great about today?”
“What are you looking forward too?”
Because these questions will bring positive vibes.
But just please don’t say.
“Are you okay?”