Better Left Unspoken

I like to think I'm not the only person on this madly spinning marble who doesn't always give a...complete...answer when speaking to certain people.

You do it, too, right?

"Hi, how are you doing?"
"Oh fine, fine, how're you?"
"Just fine!"

The conversation continues, fluff and nonsense. Maybe they hear the words held back, maybe not. If they notice something's not entirely...on...that details seem to be lacking in certain areas, they don't mention. Easier to listen to the spoken words than what's left lingering.

Precious few people want an honest answer to "How are you?"

No, really - next time someone asks, give 'em a really honest answer. Tell 'em you stepped in cold cat hork when you got up this morning, you're wearing underpants you washed in the sink last night because you're out of laundry soap and can't afford more until who knows when, breakfast was something that's been in the fridge since last St. Swiven's Day because you can't buy groceries for two more days and it wasn't really all that moldy, and your favorite houseplant (Pottemer Potts the Pink Petalled Petunia) died last night...

Watch their face.

Bet they weren't expecting that.

I understand that polite exchanges help lubricate social interaction through the day, help to ease friction and pass a moment or two of shared space/time. I'm fine with that.

What's got me bothered right now is...there are people to whom we should be able to speak openly, freely, and honestly, but can't. In my case, because I just don't need the judgement, the censure, the lectures that will spill forth like a snowmelt-swollen river through a fractured dam. I don't need or want to hear about what I'm doing wrong and how easy it is to fix it if only I would do what someone else thinks I should.

I'm well aware that I'm a monumental fuck-up, thank you, I don't really need my face rubbed in it.

Sometimes I have to fight to keep from screaming.

I'm fast approaching the day when the only answer I can give anyone is "fine" when asked how I am because I just don't want to deal with the aftermath of honesty.

In case I should ever ask you, though, how you are - I mean it. Tell me. Let 'er rip. I don't ask questions to which I don't want answers.
~~~~~
To make up for being such a dange Debbie Downer: As things stand now, I will be "allowed" to have Sprout whenever she's ready to come out, even if she's a little late to her birthday party - I don't need to schedule a c-section! Sweet!