Image text: @agnieszkasshoes: "Part of what makes small talk so utterly debilitating for many of us who are neurodivergent is that having to smile and lie in answer to questions like, "how are you?" is exhausting to do even once, and society makes us do it countless times a day."
@LuckyHarmsGG: "It's not just the lie, it's the energy it takes to suppress the impulse to answer honestly, analyze whether the other person wants the truth, realize they almost certainly don't, and then have to make the DECISION to lie, every single time. Over and over. Decision fatigue is real"
@agnieszkasshoes: "Yes! The constant calculations are utterly exhausting - and all under the pressure of knowing that if you get it "wrong" you will be judged for it!"
My addition: For me, in addition to this, more specifically it's the energy to pull up that info and analyze how I am. Like I don't know the answer to that question and that's why it's so annoying. Now I need to analyze my day, decide what parts mean what to me and weigh the average basically, and then decide if that's appropriate to share/if the person really wants to hear the truth of that, then pull up my files of pre-prepared phrases for the question that fits most closely with the truth since not answering truthfully is close to impossible for me.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CvPSP-2xU4h/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
Dan's final comment succinctly calls out the situations which irk me the most. You asked me how I'm doing. I answered honestly... and now you're going to judge me for that? Yeah, nah. I'd rather just not answer at all, thanks, instead of dealing with that bullcrap.
Which, over the course of time, led me to the analytical conclusion that more often than not, most people don't actually care how -- or even if -- I answer at all, unless I make the "mistake" of answering honestly when I'm not feeling perfectly peachy. That's why I almost always answer with something vaguely nonsensical when asked how I'm doing by random strangers, such as, "Howdy, howdy!" Most of them are so locked into their autopilot that they only ever hear that first syllable, and immediately think I just asked them how they're doing... so they reflexively toss back their obligatory, "Oh, I'm fine." Once in a blue moon, one of them will skip a beat and realize what I actually said just after their reply, making the passing interaction vaguely uncomfortable for them. Which, you know... is actually just fine by me, since that's how I feel almost all the time.