Lonely Life of a Pathological Liar

No one knew his true self. He lied upwards of 50 or more times a week. It was a rush experienced only to him in the hidden compartments of his twisted psyche. Lying made him invincible. He would tailor the lie to the person; what impressed them, what elevated his status, what made his word more valuable in that moment, even lies that made him seem more credible or reliable. He was the ultimate paradox-- lying his way to believability.

Did he know his true self? His true self was a fantasy. It was the lies made true; a perfect him. If it is true that a lie is filled with half-truths, then the only thing "true" about a pathological liar is their proclivity to lie. The "pathological" part means the lying becomes next level. It becomes its own living thing like a parasite.

Imagine peering into this persons' kaleidoscope soul of lies. It would be lonely hue of blacks, blues, and glass.

Pathological lying requires a strong memory. He had to be skilled at remembering the lies told to specific people and the truths told to others. He made sure the former never meant the latter. It's a long con. The lying does not end when it serves its purposes. The lying continues to morph and sophisticate. It is a balancing act of the highest kind, and the complexity makes it exciting. Self-induced mental jujitsu. He was an expert at making sure those closest to him knew enough of the real "version" so that he could remain as a passably normal person to the extent he allowed anyone to penetrate that boundary. No one ever did.

He would tailor any outward extensions of himself towards family as normal conversations. They had no idea that he was actively lying about shockingly huge things to others such as where he went to college, nonexistent accolades, family prestige, and even dating history. The lies were meant for those that could benefit him and would never come to know his inner sanctity of self (coworkers, friends, bosses, social acquaintances, and romantic interests). He could not believe the naivety of most people. He interpreted peoples' naivety as a compliment to himself.

If they believe these things about me, what does that say about me? Am I not so far off from these lies in the first place?

Also known as narcissism. At least to his face, the deceived did not indicate outright shock at his lies. A good pathological liar does not fabricate fantastical stories. Remember, it's all about lying to believability.

He never intended to make any of the lies a reality because why waste time if people believed them? He also could never achieve the perfect version of himself regardless. He found the human dopamine loophole. He could experience the high of being the dream version of himself without ever having to accomplish anything. It was addicting. He knew this compared himself to the likes of desperate social media influencers lying about their vacations and lifestyle for a few dopamine hits, but he was smarter because they were dumb enough to publish their lies. No good liar publishes lies to thousands of people and expects to make a good living out of the lying business. He pitied those lower forms of liars.

Instead, he kept his lies relegated to his mind-- a hidden boundary. The downside was gut-wrenching though. Close relationships with anyone was a hard no. He could never risk putting the deceived altogether into one room. A wedding with all of these people together was a nightmare, i.e., his family meeting the deceived. His future spouse would quickly become his divorcee. He didn't get into the lying business knowing the result was going to be a reclusive life of memory games.

Did this all make him an addict? Was he any different than the drug addict wondering the streets alone waiting for his next hit? The drug addict does not start out hoping for a reclusive life either. Does the lying social media influencer have the same problem? Are they forever alone out of fear someone uncovers their damaging secrets?

But the cycle continues. How does this end? Does he start with a clean slate somewhere with new people? Reinvent himself? Or is that akin to handing candy to a baby for a pathological liar. Is that simply a chance to create another fantasy version of himself with an entirely new group of people.

It is the long con, is it not.