"I'm Really Good At Lying"

A lot of liars think they are good at it. Good at doing it and good at spotting when others do it. Our friends and family might say we're not so good as we believe, but we do get away with it a lot. The elaborate lies really stand out, but all of the little lies we tell throughout the day become so blurred that even we cannot tell what was truth and what was a lie.

Someone once recommended that I take up writing fiction, and I've also heard "start acting". I don't know how useful those recommendations would be for someone who is dealing with a compulsion. Then again, I get the impression that a lot of creative artists suffer from some compulsion or another and they channel it through their art. And as for all the narcissistic pathological liars out there, well you could say the creative arts are filled with them. So I suppose this is something to consider.

There is some creative energy going on and a need for attention that has to be fulfilled somehow. I think the energy I get from telling a "good" whopper is frightening, fascinating, and perverse. That is what has ultimately led me to seek help and given me a renewed resolve to fight the problem. I told a big lie last week and while I was in the middle of it, I felt more alive than I had in weeks. I hate saying that but it's true. After the situation was over and I was alone again, I was crushed with the thought of what a horrible person I am. I used to lie to myself, telling myself that I only lie to make other people happy or to keep them from hurting me. But it felt good while I was lying, and there was something natural about it. I have to figure out what I am getting out of it and how else I can get what I need.

Voicelessness and Lying pt. 1

Could some compulsive liars be covering up for the feeling that they have no voice? Is compulsive lying a mask?

Consider the situation as described in the article "Little Voices":

In "Voicelessness: Narcissism," I presented one way adults react having experienced this scenario in childhood: they constantly try to re-inflate their leaky "self." However, different temperaments spawn different adjustments: some children, by their very nature, are incapable of aggressively seeking attention. If no one is entering their world, they unconsciously employ a different strategy. They diminish their voice, make as few demands as possible, and bend themselves like a pretzel to fit their parents' world.

As a child, my home environment was chaotic, messy, and often violent and neglectful. I learned to keep the truth to myself at a very early age because no one wanted to hear my truths. Perhaps they couldn't handle it, not with all of the problems they had to deal with. Perhaps I was too often invisible and weird. In my fantasies I always had a voice but I don't think the "real world" ever measured up to the fantasies I could control. So you learn to adapt and lying is a powerful adaptation tool. From telling people what you think they want to hear to telling them what you think they need to hear (parenting the parents), voiceless children may learn that lying is a key to stable relationships.

I still have a deep fear of chaos, rejection and pain, and I need to control the situation. This can spawn big lies, for example, I might invent a serious illness and even seek help for it in order to create a sympathetic situation for myself. I often feel pressure to be someone people can like, someone people can care about, and when you feel like a "victim" you associate caring with sympathy and compassion. But usually I tell lots of "little" lies, like telling someone I ate something healthy for dinner when I did not in order to avoid judgment, or telling someone that I'm not using something that I really am using because I sense that they want to use it.

Children with diminished voices can be very sensitive to the emotions and needs of others, and will often subjugate their own needs and true feelings. By necessity, this requires some degree of lying and fakery. If you become adept at it, you might start to lie by default and become oversensitive to pressure and the judgments of others. All of the lying only deepens your sense of invisibility and shame, because now people can never hear your true voice and it is worse because it is your fault.

I think that one of the keys to conquering the problem of compulsive lying is finding the courage to share your real voice. Your real hopes, desires, impressions and experiences. You might not value them very much because you weren't taught to value them. But it is never too late to find your voice.

Narcissism is the other side of the voicelessness coin and narcissism is one thing I've been accused of, when I disclosed my compulsive lying to others. I will look at that in the next part.