As Elvis Would Say, "All Shook Up"

“I’m Fine”. How many times a day do we say this or hear this from others. It is our go to response to the question, “How are you doing?” Many times we give this response without even thinking, when often we are anything but fine. Why do we have such a hard time being honest?

I will admit, this PERFECTLY describes me. I have had physical difficulties for so long that saying “I’m fine” simply became habit. I spent every day in pain. Almost every action was a struggle. I was always tired, and I seesawed between happiness and discouragement. Often, I just did not want to talk about it, because I was tired of discussing and hearing about it.

So, it was just easier to say fine, smile, and everyone move on with their day. I rationalized this little white lie by simply telling myself that they did not really want to know anyway. What we both wanted, I told myself, was a quick, simple interaction so that we could both get on with our day, having at least been pleasant to each other.

While this was true sometimes, at other times, I just did not want others to know I was struggling. I felt better keeping the mask up and the illusion of having everything together and in-tact. For me, it was a matter of pride, to show others how well I could handle things. It was also a matter fear – I did not want to appear vulnerable or weak to anyone.

In reality, those who knew me best were not fooled, and some really close to me, called me on it more than once. I will admit, when I got my diagnosis of Parkinson’s, both literally and figuratively, I was “All Shook Up” – pun intended. When my symptoms got worse, it was the first time in my life that I could not just push on through. I could not simply “put on a happy face” and muscle through, mainly because I felt so bad. Once I had the diagnosis, sometimes I could not even talk about it without tears, they would just flow no matter what I did.

In those moments, I could not even fake being fine, and I discovered how much I had short changed myself and others. By not sharing with people where I really was or how I was doing, I was robbing myself and others. I was robbing myself of the simple release of my feelings and of the comfort from others that sharing brought. I was robbing others of the chance to care and comfort, and I was taking from us both the chance to grow stronger in our relationship.

It is not easy for any of us to be vulnerable and share with others if we are struggling, but it is so necessary in so many ways. Without letting others know where we really are, we will never find the strength, healing, encouragement, and support we need to move forward. Instead, we will isolate ourselves and fall into discouragement and depression.

Next time you ask someone “How are you”, make sure you are ready for any answer, and if you are asked that question, make sure you give an honest answer. If we never let people know how we are truly doing, how will we ever find the strength, healing, and comfort we need to keep moving forward. We need to put down the masks and be honest with where we really are – and yes, this is the pot calling the kettle black.

So, how am I doing? Both emotionally and physically, literally and metaphorically, I’m all shook up (that’s a joke, but also very true). There is not an area of my life this last year that has not been shaken. Honestly, there have been good days, and very discouraging days. Days when I could laugh, and days when I just cried. Days I felt upbeat, and days of immense discouragement. Days when nothing could stop me and days when I did not think I could go on. Today is a good day, I’m tired, but encouraged, because I know He is with me. We will see how tomorrow goes, but if you ask, I promise I will be honest.