Thursday, June 14, 2012

The Liar

I lie.
It's what I know how to do best actually - especially to the people I care about most (supposedly care about anyway).
That's what I was taught at a very young age - be vague and lie incessantly.

I lie (I originally wrote "like" and that word fit all too well in this thought sentence too...) to avoid consequences and then preach that I never cared about consequences.  I thought I didn't, but perhaps I care so much about them, I ended up creating a life that was fraudulent.

I lie because I won't and don't like to deal with reality, even the good reality.  I originally thought that I couldn't deal with it, but it is "won't" because it's a choice now.  Survival it was at a young age - forced to lie to my mother, to be what she wanted, then lie to myself thinking that what she wanted was what I really was.

I lie out of habit even when the truth is right there and will take two seconds to spit out.  My first reaction is to lie.

I lie because I am selfish.
I’m selfish because I lie.

I lie to distort truth into what I want to see and what I want to believe.

I have (had) everything good but I too, it for granted.

I was convinced that I was to take nothing from my mother into my marriage but I ended up taking nearly all of her with me.  My conscience, much like my Little Me, is beaten and subjugated almost beyond recognition, much like Voldemort’s character was in the final scenes of Harry Potter (he was a pathetic, repulsive, withering, being on the verge of giving in to Death).  That thing would be me and myself.

I’ve filled up my mind with the superfluous, the superficial, the wretched and left no room for what matters: real life, with my real family, with real emotions.

And for shit’s sake LSV, you lied to yourself in your own journal.  The hell good is a journal if you don’t even tell yourself what’s real and what isn’t??

The scars will remind me how extensive the damage was, both that I have caused and that which was done to me.  I intend to experience real life with my family.  I only hope that I have not yet run out of time.


  1. Speaking as a former liar, you are capable of being who and what you want to be.

    I was 43 years old when I realized how much I lied and decided it was time to stop. I was 44 and several months into counseling when I realized I still lied to myself first. I was such a failure. It took me another six months to work up the courage to tackle the truth.

    It's almost six years later, and I still have to check with myself, ask myself if what I'm saying is true or a convenient lie. I'm doing better, a lot better, but I don't kid myself that I'm always truthful. Sometimes, the convenient lie still slips out.

    You are worth saving. You are worth fighting for, lies and all. The lies are an old habit. You spent years cultivating the habit and having it re-enforced. It's going to take a while to replace the old habit with the new habit of telling the truth.

    The catch no one tells you: Telling the truth isn't easy. It becomes easier with practice, but with the truth you have to consider how much to share and with whom. Unlike with a lie which you can roll out without thought.

    The side of the truth that is easier: It's such a relief not need to figure out keeping the strings of lies straight so they sound like the truth.

    It's worth the fight. Otherwise, the narcs win.

    No way in **** will I let them win.

    1. They've been winning with me for eons it seems like. Up until just recently, they've been winning. Now I need the rest of my life to make that up to the people I actually care about. And things is, I want to do that.

      But what does that mean coming from a liar?

  2. Ohhh, the Legacy. Piece by piece you "undo" and reframe the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It's so hard to believe someone will love us-UNCONDITIONALLY. My late DH taught me with more patience than this human being believed she "deserved." Love heals and unconditional loves heal unconditionally. I didn't trust in that for a good long time. It was impossible for me to really trust him when I didn't really trust me. It was safer, more familiar to keep one foot out the door-just in case.....I always had to have a "Plan B, C,D" etc. because when you grow up in unpredictability and too many adult messes you have to find "safe" places on your own. No one is gonna take care of business for you.
    And this kind of love never does end even in death. It gets bumped, bruised and a bit battered now and then but it never ends. What a gift, likely the first one I ever received that didn't come with an "expiration date" or any kind of contingencies/hidden agendas or a "F You" in there somewhere. I didn't know where to start, everything was such a mess. So that's where I started, just grabbed one thread and started there and kept on unraveling the mess, taking out the knots.
    I don't think it matters all that much where you long as you do.

  3. The first words to pop into my head when reading this were: "my heart beats with you." Which is a weird-ass response to your post and I kind of feel like a freak for even typing it here.

    But what I think my addled brain meant was that I get it and I feel your shame and applaud your bravery for acknowledging it. Which also sounds kind of pretentious, but it is meant sincerely.

    There are so many days when I have no idea of who I am. Am I a lie? Am I a fraud? It hurts and is awful, but when you get right down to it, I think you'll find that is not who you are. It's just who you've had to be. Now you just need to dig through the muck and hold things out in the light to see what is true and what isn't. Cut yourself some slack. Just taking the journey, admitting that there's a problem is worthy and more than probably most people ever get brave enough to do. You're ahead of the curve.

    1. I'm no braver than a weasel in a chicken coup. Hm. I guess what I mean is, I don't see myself as being brave. I've spent my life being nothing but a coward, save for maybe the time when I was forced to develop a false self to save my toddler self from my mother. But then, my false self became me, and I couldn't undo that bond - false self to parasitic mother. I was her never-ending, self-filling cup of resource. Supply. That's what I became, how I identified myself. With no identity, I couldn't devleop any semblance of healthy emotion, morals, anything. But deception, how to lie, and superficiality, THOSE, now those I could do.

      Time for me now to force my way out of that, and it took death for that to happen.

  4. Why do you believe all these bad things about yourself? Boy, you are not a coward. Never were, never will be. It's not your fault you got hurt. YOU got hurt. You aren't hurting anyone, it's YOU they're trying to heal. It just isn't true. None of the bad things are true, it's your MOM that sucks. Everything is her fault. Not you, not yours. You don't need to bow your head for anyone.
    You are not a liar. You are not broken. You weren't broken then and you aren't broken now.

    1. At some point (like years ago) I have to own the dysfunction and the behaviors associated with them. I have yet to fully do that.

      I do in fact agree with you that my mother does suck, among other things, and that it wassn't my fault that I got hurt. It is however, up to me to fix all those problems, and that's what I'm struggling with. Lying is one of them.

      I do sincerely appreciate your support Lisa, thank you.