How to Tactfully Tell People You're Doing Badly

I woke up yesterday in a depressed crash. Depression is strange. You can't remember how you did what you did last week or why, or how you managed to feel excited about things that seem like so much nothing now.

Depression always feels horrible to talk about: it feels like an imposition on everyone. It's particularly hard when you run into an acquaintance who asks, "How are you?" You're not sure if this means "How are you?" or "I have run into you, a person I know but not well, and want to acknowledge you; please do not upset the delicate balance of this interaction."

In response to this difficulty, I've come up with a short, illustrated list of strategies to navigate this tricky social situation. I will be testing each of these over the ensuing months & will report back:

1. Evasive: boom out, "Wonderful to see you! I'm doing horrible!" Then immediately parry their demands with a cheerful question about their own life. "How's your estranged brother?", "How's the divorce?", "Are you still in debt?" As they scramble for an answer, jump into the window of a passing car. 

1. Corporate euphemism: best for managers or coworkers. Nod, then murmur urgently, "Bandwidth…pain points…putting out fires…pivoting." End with a firm handshake, then walk backwards into the distance, maintaining assertive eye contact until you disappear over the horizon. 

1. Direct: scream a short summary of your recent sorrows in their face: "BREAK UP! INSANITY! JOB LOSS!" Run. Your true friends will forgive you and you will never see your acquaintances again.  

2. Cocktail party: best if you have a glass of something, but mime will work in an emergency. Swirl your [perhaps imaginary] martini glass, chuckle disarmingly and, with a casual shrug, finish with one of these ambiguous bon mots: "It is what it is," "Call a spade a spade," "Gift horse! Mouth!" Then spill/pretend to spill your drink on their shirt. In the chaos that follows, leap out of the window or, if there is no window, crouch on the ground and pretend to be a plant. 

1. The Scheherazade Gambit: if the above strategies fail, and they insist on getting an answer, begin a story that then seamlessly pivots into the entirety of the Arabian Nights, edited to metaphorically reference your own life and state of mind. Although you will never be able to leave this conversation for the rest of your lives, you will get free when one of you is dead.