Am I Okay?

Justin LaBarge
Publisher, Legacy Magazine

Am I okay?

I can’t honestly say. It feels like I’ve been through so much, I rather lost sight of that horizon. Today as I talk to you, I’m feeling a bit physically beat up (through manual labor). I have high blood pressure, and a newly discovered rare genetic blood disorder where my body accumulates a toxically high amount of iron called ‘Hemochromatosis.’ I treat it by bleeding out that bad blood. This is likely how I’m going to eventually die.

I’m going to die.

Am I okay?

I have recently torn all three tendons which attaches my right clavicle to the rest of my shoulder, which will never grow back, and prevents me from practicing yoga. Vis:

I will often sleep with my contact lenses in my eyes for four nights in a row. I’m never wrong. I’m not too old to act like a rebel. I’m a momma’s boy to the core. I have zero defense against fart jokes. Personal debt has limited options in my life.

I think my wife thinks that I have a death wish.

Am I okay?

I eat well, but I drink too much. I have trouble sleeping at night. I sometimes forget to brush my teeth. I always know better. I have a pimple on my back. Can’t remember all those sophisticated and philosophical concepts that used to really matter to me.

I used to smoke.

Am I okay?

Just tell me when the other shoe will drop already!

My appetite is shrinking, my memory is failing, I likely have anger issues, I fear I’ll disappoint my dog, I wish I would practice my guitar more often, and often regret my decisions. I accumulate clutter around me, and leftovers in the fridge.

One of these days I’m totally going to WIN!

I feel like whatever it is I happen to be doing it’s ALWAYS the wrong thing – and I better FIGURE IT OUT!

Am I okay?

I fear the WORST of circumstances and try not to focus on that. I’m still in love with every woman I’ve ever seriously dated. I sometimes get into arguments with people in traffic. I love driving my garbage to the dump.

I think dangerous thoughts.

In my dreams I am always the hero. I’m okay with getting old, as long as it continues to go like this.

But I know it never will.

Am I okay?

Fella, I can’t tell you that. And perhaps the real point is in asking myself this question. And in this instance perhaps the question is more important than the answer. 

Equally as important:

Are YOU okay?