Honestly, this will be a list

Honestly, this will be a list of lies and deceit, so we’ll be here a while.

I’ve lied to everyone around me since middle school. Perhaps I’ve always been a liar, since I first discovered the power a lie could hold. It’s a feeling like no other- something addicting, something simple and easy. For instance, when I first went through the phase of wanting attention, I lied to my friends about being violently raped as a child. I’ve kept up with this lie to this day, and I feel no guilt over it. There’s something about having a secretly-fake traumatized past that makes me feel like I deserve to be treated fairly. So I use this to my advantage when the need arises. Another instance would be the multiple times I’ve lied to my past partners, giving them false hope and then squishing them under my feet. I have this need to feel superior, and to control everything. It’s a problem that I’m slowly trying to work on. But still, I don’t feel guilty about manipulating others to get what I want. That’s how you climb the ranks in this world. I don’t care who I have to throw under the bus to gain everything this world has to offer. I’ve also lied to past employers- lied about a major death in the family to get out of a job I didn’t like. Lied about being hospitalized. Lied about why I wasn’t at work, etcetc.

But I think the biggest lie came when I was forced to move away from the only home I knew. Being plucked from the big city and forced into a small, s***** town made me bitter and angry at everything. I became depressed, stopped eating, and contemplated suicide daily. So to gain attention and have a little fun (and also to have an excuse for my suicidal tendencies and major loss of weight), I told my closest friends that I’d been diagnosed with lung cancer (oh no what a low life how dare you- yeah, I know, f*** you and your opinions because we’re all s***** human beings). This, of course, brought on a round of tears and support and worry and all that jazz. Which, you know, entertained me for a while. But it wasn’t enough. So recently, I was with someone whom I considered to be a fairly good person to be with. I was intrigued by said person, but that didn’t last too long. My excuse to break it off was that the lung cancer had come back (to cover my a** about the first lie, I pretended to get treatment and “got cured”). But I mostly broke that one off because an old suiter came back into my life who I’ve never grown bored of. At least, not yet, and it’s been over 5 years now. So perhaps that one’s a keeper.

So all in all, I am a person who has lied about my mother dying, getting lung cancer (twice), and lied about being raped at a younger age.

And yet, I feel no guilt or shame. Because no matter how much “society” denies it, we’re all animalistic in nature, and it’s time we stopped denying it. I embrace my inner animal and I enjoy the life I lead. Manipulation and a mask will do wonders for climbing ladders. My bank account tends to agree with me.

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