I'm FINE

I'm not yelling . . .

. . . I’m just sharing the often-used acronym associated with this word—F.I.N.E. ("Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional") First used in an Aerosmith song in 1989, it has been used over and over to clarify the apparently unacceptable response “fine” that so many people use during times of stress and trauma. Or privacy.

Constant readers know that the last few months (or years, I guess) have been a lot for me which gives way to many friends and acquaintances asking how I’m doing. “I’m fine…” I respond, truly believing that if I’m standing upright and able to speak, it is a good day.

However, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been admonished for uttering those two reassuring words only to be told that it only makes sense if I’m saying I’m fucked-up, insecure, neurotic and emotional.

But, honestly, that’s not how I feel either. What I think is, if you ask someone how they’re doing and they respond, give them the benefit of the doubt that they’re responding truthfully. If you already know someone is grieving or stressed or under pressure AND you ask them how they are, be prepared that they’re going to give you the best answer they can muster. And if you don’t like it—or think you know better than them, then maybe you should rethink why you’re asking in the first place. I can speak for myself and tell you that if I don’t feel like sharing the utter desolation I might be warding off at the moment, I’m going to tell you I’m fine.  

I’ve decided to make up a new acronym for the already perfectly reasonable response to “how are you doing?” that maybe will cover the circumstance I’m describing: No, of course I’m not fine, but I am not all those other things either. I’m just…FINE:

F - Functional – During this time of grieving I’m doing my best to attend to my daily responsibilities including, but not limited to showering regularly, appearing in public properly dressed (F is definitely not for “fashionable”) safely caring for my grandchildren, preparing meals, paying bills and watering the plants. I’m also getting ready to publish one book in September and I’m working on getting another one published after that. (An anthology on grief, because duh.) And, I keep up with my weekly essay on Silver Linings. Yes, it’s mostly about grief and loss now, but also about gratitude and love. As my friend Vanita said, “It’s not called “Dark Broodings.’”

I – Injured – Let’s be clear—loss is a wound that rarely heals. It may change and take on different shapes or hues or characteristics, but there is no way that I will ever “get over” this injury. It may not ever be healed either and I don’t feel like I’m being particularly negative in saying that. I’m prepared to bear this wound for the rest of my life, because—at least right now—how could I feel otherwise?

N – New – This is a whole new me. Some days I don’t even know how I’m doing, but if I’m talking to you, it means I at least remember who you are. Every day is a day I have to learn how to be in the world without Annie (or my sister, my dad and my mom, too). This year of “firsts” doesn’t hold the promise that the second year will be easier…just next. And that will be new, too. If sometimes I look like I’m startled…I am. It’s all new…and not in a good way.

E – Emotional– Let’s just go ahead and keep that one. That allows for the random times the tears show up. But they’re not random, really—they represent the millions of times your loved one shows up in your brain because of the millions of times when they were here in person. You might have simply been having a conversation, sharing a meal, going on an adventure—even having an argument--but every aspect of your lives together continues to show up as a reminder which may or may not trigger tears. Or sadness, moodiness, impatience or just wanting to be alone.

Hopefully, this new acronym is more acceptable and will suffice as a response without further investigation. So, if you ask me how I’m doing—to which I’m happy to respond—give me some room to answer as I see fit. If folks can just accept that I’m expressing my current state of affairs without schooling me on what I really mean, I’d appreciate that. Unless I’m a weeping heap of tears and incoherence—then you can call me on it. But otherwise, trust me.

I think I’d be fine with that.

If I don’t look like this, I’m probably okay.