Surviving

On meeting a casual acquaintance in the beer garden:

Me: "Hi there, how's it going?"
Acquaintance: "Surviving."

Surviving?

What's that supposed to mean?

You've decided existence is meaningless and are only taking on enough sustenance to fend off death?
You're being hunted by hitmen, and move to a different safe house each night?
You have a potentially fatal illness and you take a cocktail of 32 different drugs up your arse every morning, just to get out of bed?
You were the only survivor of a coach crash on the M2, and watched all the other passengers,including your wife, burn to screaming death in front of your eyes as you battled to drag her to safety before you were beaten back from the flames, smouldering and weeping?
You were filmed on CCTV shutting a cat in a bin?

Seriously, help me out here!

I don't know you very well and your body language isn't telling me much.

Am I supposed to reply with a wry chuckle and say "Oh, tell me about it! Still, worse things happen in China!"

Or am I supposed to put a comforting arm around you and state meaningfully, "There there. I'm here for you. It's OK to cry. It's natural."