“How are you?” The soothing robotic car voice read the text to me as I drove to either pick up or drop off a kid from an activity or school or work--I can’t remember now because I’m in the “driving years” of parenting.
I don’t usually reply to texts when I’m on the road unless it can be done with a simple voice message. With most people, I’d probably answer this question with, “Good, thank you. How are you?” But the text came from a friend with whom I hadn’t spoken in a while. Since she has been aware of some of my challenges in the past, I didn’t think a superficial answer would do.
So, as I drove, I thought about my response. How was I? Honestly, not great. Functioning, yes. Checking the boxes. Completing the tasks. Showing up at the places. But, really, how was I? Is there such a thing as a high-functioning depressed person?
How could I say things are hard without being whiney? Could I share the weight of my challenges while respecting the privacy of family members experiencing those challenges with me?
Where would I start? Because if I wrote about the lurking shadows, I might also have to go into how they got there and where they came from. But if there were only one reason I sometimes cried myself to sleep at night, maybe I could solve it, and there’d be no need to share.
I should stick with the vague answer—the easy way. I needed something easy.
But a friend was ready to listen, and I could benefit from sharing.
I formulated the text in my mind, “Things have been hard, but I’m learning a lot, and I know it will get better.” Nice. Admit difficulty and exhibit hope. Not too whiney. Not too personal.
With the car safely parked, I pulled out my phone to type the text.
My friend had already sent a follow-up.
“Can you help in the kids’ Sunday school class this week?”
“Sure. I’d love to.”