The Human Condition Book Two # 132

Take three innocent words, contract two and combine, and the result is a sentence that is as impenetrable as Kevlar and can hold back more than the Hoover Dam.

“I’m fine.”

Nothing gets in; nothing gets out; just ask anyone who is in any way distraught.

Okay then, ask me. It was unexpected, and it has thrown me off balance; I guess you could even call it a tragedy; but I’m fine, truly—just as I was at sixteen when my sister died, and later too when my Mother did the same. And let’s include the times I broke my arm, lost a job and went through that divorce.

But even if I was not “fine”, would you really want to know? Really? If you did, I think you would ask a different question, because “Are you okay?” comes very close to salivating as it begs for that one, single response: “I’m fine.”

Not convinced? What happens when someone actually does start releasing their turmoil? Don’t most around them stampede for higher ground, while the rest struggle to hold a sympathetic expression, try not to fidget and wish they had made a break with the others?

Of the two categories, runner and fidgeter, I have to admit to always leading the pack; and this, I am told, is one of the downsides to being “fine.” Another one is… well, the one time I was not quick enough and got caught in another’s emotions, my brain froze, along with my tongue, and I felt very, very nervous.

There is also supposed to be an occasional dam burst of over-reaction, but that hardly ever happens to me; almost never; honest.

So okay, I do agree. Given what has happened, it might be good if I talked with someone to ease the pain (if I were really that hurt); and to avoid the downside (if it were really that bad).

And if I could find someone, who wouldn’t run (or fidget), along with just the right moment to begin. Well then, probably I would, you know, talk about it.

Because it is important to talk about these things, to get them out in the open.

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Wasn’t that a cute ending? I especially liked the way it so neatly avoided the truth.

The opposite of being “fine” is to let go: to let in the concern, caring and support of others and to let out what is not good for us. And I sometimes find myself wishing I could. BUT… letting somebody in that way? And letting out… who knows what?

The truth is, I think… I might be afraid to stop—being “fine”.

B U T W A I T !

“THE WORLD’S WORST WORD – AND YOU USE IT ALL THE TIME: http://thehumancond.com/home/thank-you/

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