Why do I, pathologically lie?

Hey there!

Wasn’t sure if you would want to talk again after last time. I wasn’t sure if the mother beating had scared you off or not.

Well, I am glad you have decided to come back for another chat.

Why am I acting like you are real? I am glad I asked that.

No, I am not schizophrenic, or at least, I don’t think I am. I guess I could easily lie to myself about that as well. However, no one has told me I am nuts, so we are going with that assumption.

No, I know you are not real, well, at least in the sense you are not here in front of me. No, I know this might be read by no one and then into the void it goes.

But I am not pretending you are here, real, before me. Not talking to myself either.

No, you are on the other side of a screen or something I don’t know, but this is not for you. Not really for me either. Fuck if I know who it is for.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Why, oh fucking why, do I pathologically lie.

I know that you might have though last week, “Well, wait a moment. Yes, you beat your mom and lied about it. But that doesn’t make you a pathological liar.”

You are right, there is way, WAY, more to it than just a single incident of lying.

Lying to myself is only the start, only the constant thing, the constant person I ALWAYS lie to. You see, it isn’t that I want to lie to you or anyone, myself included, but I HAVE to. Like I said last time, I have to lie to myself to avoid stepping over the brink into self-destruction.

Or, am I already there?

No, not yet, but that also is what makes me know I am not a psycho or anything. I don’t actually like hurting people. When I do, it is not something repeated every day. Only the lying. As far as I can tell, psychos don’t care they hurt people. Me, I care, but tell myself some lie to cover it up, to make it not as bad.

I thought about it after we talked and realized I couldn’t remember another incident of striking my mother. I know I had the chance; I know I could have done it. Did I do it more and don’t remember? Did I literally lie it out of my own mind?

Wait, sorry I should be answering the questions not asking them, so lets just get back on track.

So, everything from before holds true now, none of what I said before has changed.

We are, however, going to jump forward a few years. I don’t want to bore you with endless details of family going bankrupt, mothers drinking getting worse, having to move to a whole new state, etc, etc.

So, we will pick up there, moved to a new state. Not just a new house or even city. Fuck, AND I was just about fifteen at the time.

Well, you know, what the hell do I do? I mean I am a liar, and an accomplished petty thief, if I do say so myself. Candy bars and drinks and such are easy to snag after all. And the company has so many.

Annnnnnyyyyyway. New state, teen angst, enjoys football and shit, jock type from the outside. Was even on the football team as soon as I got into the new school. Nothing amazing, but damn I used to be good.

Anyway, so parents, Dad doing all he can to keep the family he can and afloat. Mom drunk, loving her family, and falling deeper every day into the addiction of the bottle. Sister, well we won’t talk about her at this point.

It is strange how some people can go into the darkness and come out of it. Scarred perhaps, but whole and strong. That was my sister, all our life she was always the one who managed to take the darkness around her and bring a light to it. Sometimes that light was dimmer than others, but it was always there.

Me, well I’m not scare of the dark, you’ve never seen it look so easy. My flame went out and the darkness was all I could see, so I assumed it was all there was. And I embraced it.

I will say this true, I never wanted to.

Doesn’t matter, I did. That is what matters. Intentions count for shit if you don’t follow through.

Personal intentions, not like a fundraiser that failed or something. In that, yeah intentions count.

But I lied to myself, new state, no friends, Dad having to work a lot, but my dumbass not understanding, my mom usually passed out leaving my sister to ourselves. Sis older than me, trying to rebuild her life, no time for younger brother.

Oh, and this was all before the time of social media and all that shit. Internet was just budding into the home sector; AOL was the big chat program, chatrooms taking place of boards.

So yeah, she managed to find a right path, it wobbled, but she did great.

Me, I saw all this, and saw it as me being alone, me against the world. Such a hard life, right? Dad who works himself to death to provide, mother who is a drunk but never hits me. Roof, food, clothing. Yeah, me against the world.

I think what really hit home for me that the truth was a fucking joke, and only really needed when it suited my purposes, was after my mom beat my dad and then HE got arrested after calling the cops on her. Fuck yeah, memories.

We were staying in a two-story townhouse at the time. You know those, with like 4 put together or whatever and a small back yard. Well anyway here comes my mom down the steps, falls, manages to catch herself so she doesn’t break her neck, but she face plants into the front door.

Broken nose, broken glasses, trip to ER. Everyone is so sad to hear that she was in an accident and bleh blah. I will always love my mother, but she was a master manipulator.

Anyway, fast forward a week. After dinner, I was in my room jamming out to Pac and Dre, when I hear parents arguing down stairs. Now here is the important thing, my older sister was at her friends who lived a few townhouses down.

So, I walk down there, see my mom swaying before my dad shouting at him. Why? No fucking clue. All I know is he said, “I can’t take this anymore.”

And damnit if my mom didn’t just claw his ass. He pushed her away, didn’t hurt her, just pushed her away. Then called the cops.

Not even 2 minutes later, white people domestic abuse gets priority I guess, the cops arrive and start asking questions. Dad gives his story, mom gives hers. I was able to hear my moms, or at least a little because I was mad.

Cop comes over to me and says “So what happened son?” Yup, good ol’ boy. I tell him exactly what happened, tonight and last week with my mom falling down the steps.

Ooh boy, Mom fell down the steps, two huge black eyes and a swollen nose, huh? You see, that was what someone looks a week after smashing their face into a door while drunk. Apparently looks a lot like getting punched in the face repeatedly, supposedly just five minutes earlier.

That’s what she told the cops after all. That’s what they believed. Not the medical paperwork from just the week before.

So away goes my dad, arrested for domestic abuse charges.

Best part about this night? My mom, who was swaying drunk in front of the cops, was the one who drove us to the cops to bail out my dad. Hah, she staggered in to pay and you could see the horror on the woman’s face at the desk.

Well anyway, we go home (Dad driving of course, no one talking), and the next day divorce papers.

You know, I could have hit my mom then. I wanted to, I was older and bigger now, so I could have easily and done more. But I didn’t. I couldn’t tell you why.

So now it is even better, mom and dad are separated, going through a nasty divorce. My Dad was willing to give up anything for us, my mom wanted half of everything, including us.

Is it wrong to say, my Dad was right? Well, thing is, her addiction won out in the end. She showed up to a few court appearing’s drunk, and missed one altogether. So in the end, while he had to pay her a ridiculous alimony (he had been working and made decent money when he wasn’t having to move, while she couldn’t work because of, well..), my Dad got me and my sister.

Happy ending, right? I guess.

My mom moved into a house in the neighborhood behind mine, so literally right there.

Yet, from this point on in my life, she is a minor player.

Should anyone say their mother BECAME a minor character in the story of their life at around thirteen?

Made me stronger I guess, or some shit about it not killing me.

But anywho, that’s all for me today, I think. Time for some games and girls!

Maxwell heading out, for now at least.