I’ve always hated to say “I can’t.” Almost as much as I hate for it to be true. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been determined to do anything and everything that I was asked of me (or that I asked of myself). Until recent years I could overcome virtually any energy deficit or obstacle in order to accomplish something I considered important. I’ve been the “can do” person, the “go to” person, the “yes woman” – and happy about it, perhaps in part because I didn’t know any

"How are you doing?” The question is ubiquitous, often innocent, and generally well-meaning. In the middle of or after a personal crisis, it can become nearly unanswerable. Although those words often simply mean “hello,” I don’t hear them that way anymore. I hear the question in all of its truth, and responses come to my mind in all of their intensity. Then I have to choose an answer. Occasionally I’m actually feeling good and the choice is straightforward. Most of the tim