“Hi, how are you?”


“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Hello. How are you?”

At least 4 people said something like that to me as they walked past me.

2 or 3 people looked at me and shook my hand as they said the same thing.

1 person hugged me as she said it.

I don’t think any of them were looking for the real answer.

It’s just a greeting, but a meaningless one.  “How are you?”  It’s just something you say.

I hate that.

When I ask someone how they are I say it because I care about how they are and I want a real answer.

I want to give a real answer when people ask me how I am, but I don’t because I know they’re just greeting me the way everyone in our society does; and even when I say something like, “I’m surviving,” it elicits nothing more from the person who asked.  It makes me feel invisible.

If someone was to respond, “I’m surviving,” to me, I know that I would respond to that with, “I’m sorry. Is there any way I can help?” because, really, “I’m surviving” doesn’t mean anything good and I care about their hurt.

But, everybody has their own crap to deal with, right?

I think a lot of people don’t want a real answer because of exactly that.  “Don’t tell me how you really are, because then I might tell you how I really am and I want to keep my crap to myself.”  It’s that or it’s not wanting to hear about other people’s problems because you have enough of your own to deal with.

I’m the opposite of the latter.  I’d rather deal with other people’s problems.  Mine always seem so unsolvable, but others’ I can often see an answer to.

The whole point to this, though, is lately I’ve been feeling like invisible, infectious trash.  It’s taken everything I have to go to church and stay through the whole thing for the last few weeks.  But I go there, I don’t chat, and I leave as soon as it’s over.

Why?  Because of “how I am”.

“How are you, Sharon?”

You know what? Unless you really want the answer, please don’t ask.

Advertisements

About Sharon

Check out my "A Bit About Me" tab to learn a bit about me
This entry was posted in just a venting moment. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s