I know no one will read this, and I guess I don't want them to. That makes me brave enough to say this.
I am a compulsive liar. None of my friends know who I really am, becuase everything that I've ever told them has been a lie. I can count on one hand how many truthful things I've said to my friends, who I've known for three years.
After saying all that, here is my reason why. In sixth grade, I let out a secret to a good friend of mine. It was something I hadn't really told anyone because I never saw reason to, but all the sudden I wanted to tell my friend. After a while my whole group of friends knew, and for a while I thought they were okay with it. (It wasn't anything bad like I killed someone or anything, just different and wierd) That was until I overheard them talking about how crazy I was, how wierd and different I was. I ran home crying for days after that. They called me a freak, and to this day I can not stand that word. I lost all my friends that year, which was difficult for me. I used to be popular, so it was difficult to go from being surrounding by people to being shunned by everyone. Eventually I made friends with people who had just transfered to my school. I obsereved and watche how "normal" kids reacted with their friends and mimicked it. I didn't want to be abandoned again. BUt the lies got too much and I started cutting. When I stopped, I developed trichotillomania and was laughed at becuase of this. Now during high school, I hide my scars and make them light enough that no one will see. I haven't cried since my grandpop died (he was the only person who has ever called me beautiful and accepted how wierd I am), and I have not let a single person know who I am.
I've seen people look down on liars and spit on them in disgrace. But we aren't liars by choice. Something has happened that has crushed our trust in people, but we are so afraid of being alone we shape ourselves to look like we belong. It hurts and after a while you get so tired of the lies that you want to just stop. But you're in too deep and stopping would mean being alone again, and you just can't handle that. SO you keep sinking furthur and furthur into this hole you've dug for yourself until you can finally convince yourself that the lies are true and one day you'll go mad from not being able to distinguish the two but at least you won't have to deal with the struggle any more.
If you have stayed to read this long, thank you.
Rajsonkar
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