How are you?

Me: I'm fine.  (translation: you aren't worth the effort to be honest with.)

Me: Terrible.

You: No you're not.

(You think I'm kidding about this one.  I'm not.  The purest form of denial.)

Me: Terrible.

You: You can't say that!

(A slightly contaminated form of denial.)

Me: Terrible.

You: But you could *choose* to have a *great* day!!

(Toxic positivity.  The worst comforters in the entire world.  A rather weird [desperate?] form of denial.)

Me: Terrible.

You: Oh, dear.  (And then launches into a half-hour treatise of *their* troubles.)

(An interesting form of denial, *pretending* to be about sympathy, but really ensuring that there is no space/time for me to outline the realities of my life.)

Me: Terrible.

You: [Run away!]

(Yes, I'm well aware that death, grief, pain, and depression are taboo subjects in our society.  I've known about the "death" prohibition since my sister died, when I was a teenager.  But I have been surprised, recently, by just how strong this aversion is ...)

Me: Terrible.

You: I know *exactly* how you feel!  I've felt like that when ... (and then considerable detail proving that, no, you really don't have much of an idea of how I feel at all ...)