Lies

Writing Exercise for 09/15/2009

Today write only lies. They can be absurd ones, such as, last night I had dinner with the President in Honolulu, or the lies you tell yourself and/or others. Without judgment be a total liar. Or write down lies you have told and, in retrospect, what motivated you to withhold the truth. Or, write a scene in which one of your characters considers telling a lie.

When I was in fifth grade, I went on a camping trip with my class to learn about surviving in the wilderness. This part is not the lie. The lie is what I told my classmates when they were trying to catch lizards and I was afraid. I didn't want to give them more fuel with which to burn me with their taunts, which saying that I was afraid of lizards was sure to do... So I lied. I told them that I was allergic to lizards. I know that it sounds ridiculous now-- after all, who is allergic to lizards-- but they bought it and I escaped the added ridicule that my irrational fear would have bought.

In eighth grade I lied to my mom about my grades. I told her that I was getting A's and B's and maybe one C when the reality was that there was maybe one A, one B and several C's-- and I didn't even mention the D I was getting in Algebra because I didn't do my homework. That would have meant explaining to her that I was miserable-- that it's hard to focus on doing your homework when you didn't even want to live. I cried a lot, but I never let her know how sad I really was because I was afraid of what she would do to try to make it better. I was afraid that she would actually make it worse. After all, in the past her interference, though with the best intentions, always had given the other kids even more reason to pick on me rather than stopping the trouble.
So the first semester she didn't find out about my grades until the failure notice came in the mail. I learned my lesson and did better the second semester. My grades didn't really improve but I learned to lie better. I told her that I was doing better in Algebra at least and then I made sure that I was the one to bring in the mail every day the week failure notices came out and I intercepted the notice, took it into the bathroom and burned it over the toilet then flushed the evidence.

When I was nineteen, I lied to everyone. I told them all that I was okay, that I was happy, then I secretly went into the bathroom and vomited or cut myself. I did it to distract myself-- by drawing the focus away from my emotions and onto the physical discomfort, I was able to keep from crying most of the time and even put on a happy face most of the time. I didn't want people to see what I was really feeling because they would think I was weak and needy. And if they thought I was weak and needy, they wouldn't give me a chance. This was a time of transition and I really needed people to give me a chance.
I still lie to my mother about this time in my life every day-- not that she's ever asked or even come close to knowing what I did during that time-- but I lie by omission. I tell her everything. I've admitted all of the rest of my lies and missteps, but this one I leave out. I don't want to worry her needlessly-- because even though this was almost eleven years ago and I'm not that person anymore, as a mother she will still worry about it and even be upset that I didn't come to her (even though I didn't go to anyone at the time) and upset that I did those things. It is the past and there is nothing to be gained by telling her.

These days, I still find myself lying constantly, but now it's in a different way. I lie when I act like I'm not smart enough. I lie when I say I don't have the discipline to change myself, to write a book, to run a marathon. I lie when I say I'm not pretty enough or interesting enough to meet somebody who will love me. I lie to myself every single day because to admit to myself that I AM intelligent, that I AM driven, that I AM beautiful and that I AM interesting means allowing myself to hope that the things I have always dreamed of are real possibilities. I lie, because having hope for the good things that may come if I believe in myself and taking action toward those things makes me afraid. I lie because if I convince myself that I can't do it, that I'm not good enough, then I don't have to try and then I will not be disappointing myself or anybody else when I fail.
This is my way of breaking free from the lies I tell myself. I am taking action. I am putting myself out there even though I'm afraid-- because if I don't, nothing will change. I will never feel more fulfilled and I will never know what could have been.