I Don't Know How To Answer That

"how are you?" seems like a simple enough question. and most of us answer it automatically, just like we ask it. we hear it so often - from our neighbors, co-workers, the cashier at the market - and most of the time it's only asked out of politeness; the person asking really doesn't care, or at least doesn't really want an answer other than "fine" or "good." and that's ok, really - it's a social conditioning to ask, to be polite, to show possible interest. sometimes it's asked with real concern, by the people who know and love us, and it seems easier to answer those inquiries honestly. but i seem to be having some real problems responding to the casually-asked version of this question lately.

i'm odd anyway (like that should be a shock to anyone) and one of my weird ocd things is accuracy. in this case, it prevents me from replying "fine" when i'm not. if i say "not so great," then the next question will undoubtedly be some variation of "what's wrong?" i realize that most people don't want a dissertation on why i'm not fine, and in 95% of cases, i don't really want to tell them anyway. inner circle and family aside, people want to be supportive, but aren't really equipped to deal with others' loss. it makes them uncomfortable, and understandably so. no one wants to imagine what that sort of thing feels like, and besides, what do you say? "i'm sorry" seems woefully inadequate and doesn't really do anything. and asking for more details will probably only intensify the sad and possibly bring on tears - even more uncomfortable for the person just trying to be nice. none of this is fun for anyone involved.

the other issue i'm having with this question is that i honestly don't know how to answer it. i'm definitely not fine, but what am i? awful? well, yes, emotionally i suppose i am. i am bereft of my connection with one the most beautiful human beings i have ever known; i have to wake up every day knowing i will never again get a silly text from him, or ruminate with him about life over drinks, or see him onstage doing what he loved, or hear a new piece of his music. and that knowledge sucks harder than i can possibly put into words. but i also know - objectively, mind you, in those brief moments when i can get around the sheer horribleness of the situation - that i'm dealing with this fairly well. (ironically, i can deal because of him, but that's another subject for another blog.) i sit around and cry all the time, i'm frequently overwhelmed by the need to hear from him, or the want to send him a silly picture, or just by the intense feeling of without.  but i get up. i go to work. i occasionally do things with people. i eat (though not terribly well, i admit). and i try my best to go to yoga because it seems to be keeping me sane. sometimes i even enjoy myself for small pockets of time before something random reminds me that everything sucks. but that's the point: not everything sucks, just this one thing. granted, it affects how i deal with and feel about everything else, but i have work, i'm mostly making ends meet for the moment, i have my drama classes to teach, and i'll have dance again soon. most of my life isn't sucky, technically. so how do i feel? i don't know. mind-bogglingly sad. grateful for my jobs. alone. appreciative of the friends and family that love me. kinda angry. mindful of the beauty around me. heart-broken. all of these contradictory things, and usually all at the same time.

so i think i've come to the conclusion that it's just best not to answer in casual conversation. i've had enough theatre training and guest/client/parent contact over the years to enable me to smooth over and redirect the conversation. usually just repeating the question will encourage the person to answer, and few follow-up questions should be enough to put the focus on them. eventually i'll be able to go back to "fine" and "good" but until then, i think i'll just stick with, "how are you?"