Every time someone asks me how I am, and I’m doing really badly but know that that isn’t what they want to hear, I say I’m OK. It’s better than saying I’m good, and lying to them, because it is pretty easy to see straight though it. Then there is the awkward silence, the other person wondering whether they should say more, or ask why you look the way you do. So I just say I’m OK.
Because it is true. From now on, if I am breathing I am OK. I’m alive, I’m OK. It doesn’t matter what happens in the world, to me, to anyone else, I am OK. Because I have to be. I have to keep living and doing the same old boring things over and over and over even if my world is falling apart. Even if the real world really is falling apart.