Compulsive lying is a cause of mental illness commonly known to be a symptom of people who may have personality disorders. The people suffering may be victims of life changing experiences and losing control of their lives due to an addiction that has no cure or end. A young successful woman takes us through a journey of a pathological liar who lost everything to gain.
I cannot precisely remember when I told my first lie, perhaps this is because I was too
young to have any recollection of my lies. As a child, lying seemed like a game to me. If I
wanted something and wasn’t able to have it, I would tell a lie to get what I want. If I didn’t
want to do something I would lie about that too. I started to realize that this worked for me
and my parents were completely oblivious to the truth. Lying was easy. The continuous
ease of lying became so common to me that I started to tell bigger lies. I felt no guilt for
what I was doing because the lies were so menial and pathetic, but this soon grew into a
habit that I was unable to let go of. The lying became a drug.
Once I started I could not stop. As I grew older my parents started to catch on to some of
my lies, but the thrill and benefits of lying always overpowered any negative consequences
which I may have had to face. Being banned from going out with my friends, for a few days
was nothing I could not handle. I never told anyone what I was doing, as I was afraid that they would not understand. The dishonesty began with small things such as lying about
brushing my teeth before going to sleep to more constructed lies about skipping school or
lying about where I was, if I was with a boy hanging out somewhere. To most people these
lies may seem quite ordinary concerning a teenager growing up in a conservative family,
however, for me this was the start to my impending fate of losing some of the most
important people in my life. The worst part about what I would later become to be was that
it was something I had created myself.
The situation grew out of control when I moved out of my parents home to university
accommodation. I knew it was easy to manipulate my parents to buy me nice things or to
get away with small crimes of a young girls teenage life. When I moved out, I realized that
things were different in the real world, strangers had no reason to shower me with their
attention. I had to give them a reason to. I craved attention. Without it I was just a lost face
in the crowd of beautiful people who were possibly cooler, prettier, smarter and kinder than
I was.
My induction into university life was in a big city where drugs, partying, sex and alcohol
went hand in hand. The group of people that became my close friends were all very great
beings, all talented and full of spirit. I felt like I was overshadowed by them a lot of the
time. I used my old trick to gain back all the attention I was incomplete without. By lying.
The easiest card to play in my deck of lies was the sympathy card. This worked every time
without fail. I was talking to a friend one day about his drug problem so I created one for
myself, one which was darker than his, one which was far more challenging, of course I
mentioned that this was in the past, so I could lather up all the sympathy everyone had for
me, that I had gone through such a terrible struggle. The lies grew. I lied about having a
job at a company where I had never worked, I lied that I didn’t have money when I did, that
I would take drugs which I would never dream of doing, that my ex boyfriend had beaten
me up when he hadn’t laid a finger on me. This made me feel instantly more important.
The tales I had began to tell were being whispered behind my back and everyone was
much more attentive towards me. Sometimes friends or acquaintances of mine would want to catch up with me, and I would have to sit there and tell all the lies all over again. I once
told a friend that I had sex with this really famous hot guy and even created a story about
the entire date. With this lie I got instant brownie points. I was on top of the world. I was
basking in the glow as Queen of my world, what could be better than this?
Soon my friendship circles started mixing in with my family, I could not keep up with the
lies, I had to lie to my parents about my friends. That they were manipulative, scheming
people who had a grudge against me. I told lies to cover up lies to the point when
everything around me had become a lie, I was living in a fake reality. Nothing was real
anymore. In front of everyone I was happy and shiny, but at nights home alone I would cry
myself to sleep to deal with all the lies I was telling. Taking drugs helped me overcome
this, but I knew even the few hours of drug induced happiness would eventually come to
an end. I was clinically depressed so my parents took me to a therapist. They were unable
to understand why I was feeling suicidal, and constantly miserable with my life.
I began to slowly reveal the truth to the therapist, and she thought that through all of this,
the only way I would be able to break into my reality again, was by starting to tell the full
and honest truth, to my parents and close friends. This way I would actually start to live a
normal life again. I told my parents about my problem with the help of the therapist, she
told them it was related to mental illness. They took the best care of me by trying to be
even better parents than they already were. I was urged to tell the truth to my friends to
regain control of my life again. I thought it was a good idea to sit my close friends together
and tell them all at once. This outcome was disastrous. They rejected me and my truth. My
friends refused to believe that my lying was related to mental illness. They could not deal
with the fact that everything I had ever told them may have been a lie. The friendships was
ruined. Everyone eventually found out. The whole city was talking about me. My
depression grew worse and I moved back to my parents home. Since then it has been
difficult to restart my life without my friends. A few of them came round but things are not
even close to what they were. I am still receiving therapy to keep my lying and depressive
state of mind under control. I have finally accepted that this is a mental problem that had
developed over time. I know now that there is far much more to lose by lying, than there
is to being honest to the people who you love and care about. I wanted to have the world
in the palm of my hands and I have lost everything that mattered the most, to gain a
burden of my own creation weighing my existence into doom.
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