Why do I, Pathologically lie?

Sorry for last time, guess I kind of forgot what we were really talking about. Me slapping around some tiny girl wasn’t the point.

It never is, it is the lying.

I know, you probably think I am not much of a liar, well then again you might think I am some monster now.

Sad thing is, I care, but don’t. I care that people don’t think bad of me, hence why I lie to them, yet at the same time I have decided since I lie to myself most, does it matter what others think?

Obviously because I still lie to people. Like I said before, not just a little, not some, not just one or two times a week, every day, every hour.

Hell, sometimes I lie just because, no reason. I will make up some bullshit story to tell someone, not because they care. Not to impress them, just to.. lie.

This is getting afield of our conversation, I think.

So, the other darker path, yup that’s where we’re are going.

Mika was the last girl I hit for a stupid reason. Sure, getting kicked in the balls hurts, but let’s admit it, I had it coming to me.

That doesn’t mean I was a saint to women, not even close.

I was raised to treat women with respect and kindness, yet I was raised with a woman who made me question why I would do this?

I mentioned last time about the groups I was running with, not gangs, not yet at least. Nope, those kids that most likely would join a gang, those kids in school you knew not to mess with, but not exactly why.

Same day as the skipping school and slapping around a girl I met up with the other part of my crew.

Now the thing is, the crew was a bunch of kids that thought we had no cares in the world. About ten too twenty of us at any given time depending on who was grounded, or locked up, or had to move.

The group I had hung out early that day was the more moderate of the crew. The others I hung out with were the ones who I liked to call enforcers. They liked it also.

They were the expelled, yet somehow never got removed from school when they randomly showed up. They were the ones with older siblings, most who were in a gang or close to it. The ones who were in and out of jail, both juvie and adult.

Basically, one of the kids got into a fight with a school resource officer and it was the cop who went to the hospital.

Those were the ones I was meeting up with now.

I walked away from drinking, skipping school, and handies from cute girls.. For what?

Hah, sorry for the flair of the dramatic.

Drugs, gangs, theft.. murder?

Nope, not the last, sorry. Then again..

We would meet up when the sun went down any day of the week. Small-ish town with a few spots like a mall or two, or three. Few movie theaters, etc. Of course, this meant despite the cold, we loved winter. Though our winter is not as blizzard crazy as others. A few flurries at best, but lots of cold wind and rain.

I was a bad ass, so I thought. Left that house, went home, fell asleep, woke up, got dressed and went out. School the next day? Who cares.

When I met up with them, I was excited, I was finally going to meet the unofficial leader of the group. Finally, out of jail, older brother of the one female that I was worried about.

I remember how he looked at me, like I was a rat easily kicked aside if I got in his way. What does my dumbass do? Look right back at him the same way.

This isn’t one of those cases where he likes my ‘courage’, or some other stupid shit like that, and we are besties. Nope he grabbed me by the throat and squeezed as he looked me in the eyes and told me if I looked at him disrespectfully again. Actually I don’t remember what he threatened me with, he was actually choking off blood flow to my brain.

I do remember coming back to myself sitting on the ground and coughing, while he and his friends were rolling up some blunts.

Enter my new world. It was strange, here was something I thought I was, getting a new lesson. Why wouldn’t I go back to the easy life, until I failed out of school and maybe became a deadbeat?

Because this was power, at least my dumbass thought it. I know now it was the exact opposite of power.

Doesn’t matter, they didn’t kick my ass or kill me. And once I was lucid enough Tom, that is what we shall call him, looked at me and said to prove I wasn’t some punk ass bitch, then held up one of the blunts, the others already being lit.

No, I didn’t get my own blunt for my first time, was this those peer pressure episodes where I had to do it or leave?

Nope, there were several who weren’t smoking at all, drinking instead. I knew I coulda said no and drank and been fine, something in me knew it. I was curious though, and yeah the pressure was there to look cool.

So I joined them.

Let me say this, pot is amazing. Sure, it makes you ‘high’. More than that, it fixes what is wrong with you. If nothing is wrong with you, will then you get high.

Hell, I would trust a doctor high on pot to do surgery on me long before I let an alcoholic doctor who happens to be sober at the time touch me.

Oh, and it isn’t a fucking gateway drug. The dealers are the gateway, not once did I go to a dealer asking for anything harder, they always offered it to me and forced it on me.

So no, I didn’t do pot and then crave harder shit. Pot was cheap and effective for me, forcing me into a situation where I have to go to a shady ass person to get some was the actual catalyst for harder drugs.

Thanks Obama.

So I did it, I smoked the shit out of that blunt. I remember the entire night, hazy, and did silly stupid stuff, but not once did I fight or try to fight. We stole food, dined and dashed, and hopped a fence into a park to ‘play’ there after closing.

But I didn’t do anything like I do while drunk. I liked this, it put a buffer on the world and me, and I didn’t feel like I had to hurt someone or lie to anyone to not disappoint them.

Only problem is, when you are young and have no money, pot is actually quite expensive. Hell, everything is.

So, I needed money to fuel this out-of-control pot habit of a few joints a week.

The problem was, I was also a coward at heart. Aren’t all assholes and bullies?

So I could easily mule sometimes, B and E a few places with them.. You know.

Or, and this is just a thought I had, I could steal from my family and lie to them about it. Not only that, I could show my new ‘friends’ exactly how not dirt poor we were. Not rich, but when someone has more than you, it can easily look like it.

Remember my drunk mother that now lived a street away, and got a nice little alimony settlement from my dad who got all the bad debt? Yup, enter her as my primary target. First time I stole from her was easy.

I went over to her house, of course I had a key because what lonely drunk mother wouldn’t trust and want to see her son? I walked in, quite but not sneaking, just to see what she was up too. And damnit if she was black out drunk.

So, I snag the unopened bottle of vodka she never got too, and about two hundred bucks from her purse, and disappeared for a weekend with my newest friends.

I guess I should be proud that I didn’t hit her a few good times while there. I wanted too, I can remember the rage inside of me. The sadness and pain.

I didn’t though, I just looked at her with disgust, stole her booze and money, and left her passed out.

Like a good son should.

Welcome to my new life now, the path of least resistance.

I would still skip school with the other group, but not as much, and our interactions were more and more distant.

That ship had sailed, that path not traveled. Not like it was a good option anyway.

Were there any good ones? What a good question I have there.

Yes, tons, plenty. This is not a story about a boy shoved into his situation. This is the story of self-destruction that leads me to lie to everyone I know as an adult.

I would be mad at you, but I am not. I hate myself, but I am a coward so we know I wouldn’t actually hurt myself even with this loathing.

So for now, we are safe and sound and next time I will explain how letting your ‘friends’ know you holiday plans can turn out badly.

So this is Edison signing off now, hope you have.. well whatever it is you want. Until next time.