I'm not really sure if I am a pathological liar or not. I probably am. Or I am probably lying about that. Either way, I realized that I lie a lot. Like all the time. About everything, including stupid shit. Most of the time I tell inconsequential lies. Like why I'm at x location at y time. Or what I'm really doing instead of going to that event with you.
If I told you I don't know why I do it, I would be lying. There are a couple reasons why I am practically a compulsive liar. Neither of them are very good. I shouldn't lie at all, really. But since I do, and there is a life application, I will explain.
First of all, I don't like to talk. I can string lots of letters into words into sentences into paragraphs and so on with a pen or the keyboard. But I can't speak to save my life. So what does this have to do with my incessant lying? It's simple. Sometimes a lie just saves me a lot of words. If I lie, then I don't have to explain. If I don't have to explain, I don't have to mumble and stumble over my words and sound like an uneducated idiot. This really has nothing to do with life. But since that is the main reason that I lie, I thought I should at least mention it.
The other less common but equally unacceptable reason that I don't tell the truth is because I sometimes wish it were the truth. To give a very simple example. 8 times out of 10, if someone asks me to hang out, I tell them I think I am busy at that time on that day, for that exact length of time (or more). (Eighty percent of half of all statistics are made up. No lie.) The truth is, I am probably not busy. Usually I just end up studying to soothe my conscience. The reason I do not spend more time with people is simply because I don't want to. Of course, if I actually said that without explaining, I would probably have no friends. I am not far from that, so I try to avoid it at all costs.
Now that that's in the open, I should explain. I've always been a really quiet person. Like I said before, I don't like to talk. I like to listen. If I feel like I spoke too much in a conversation with my friends, I hate myself a little. That is why I am so bad at sharing my testimony. Even though my intention is to benefit the other person, I feel like such a self-centered attention whore for talking for more than three minutes straight. I can blog a lot about myself though, because it's your choice to read. (Don't worry, I do not think the same of other people who dominate the conversation. It's just me.) Of course, my reluctance to talk makes it hard for me to make friends. My old roommate once asked me if I didn't like her. I said no and asked why. She said it's because I never talked to her. I'm just not one of those persons that can strike up a conversation. If you start talking to me, I'll drop what I'm doing and listen and nod my head and smile. But I will not start talking to you, unless we are really close.
This caused the problem that I am dealing with to this day, and that started after second grade when my parents decided to take me out of a school where I did somehow manage to make friends. Since then, I haven't really made close friends at my schools until the year or two before graduation. I am not kidding (or lying). I started at my middle school in third grade and made maybe one friend-- the other new kid. I stayed at that count, and maybe added a couple more, right up until seventh grade. Then I became friends with people that I still love to hang out with now. The cycle pretty much repeated in high school.
So, after those two rather superfluous paragraphs, I guess my point is that I usually don't want to spend time with people because of all my years in lonerdom. I don't really blame anyone for it. The problem, sadly, is that after all those years of spending so much time alone, it started to grow on me. I eventually came to like being alone, or at least I like to fool myself into believing I do. I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting some alone time. But I'm pretty sure I need/want too much of it.
And ten minutes worth of reading later (if you read as slow as I do), I have come full circle to the actual point of this post. If you can recall from before my pity story, I mentioned that sometimes I lie because I want the lie to be the truth.
Recently I've been thinking a lot about how most Christians like to lead to lives. The person you see in fellowship on Wednesday at 9:30 PM or on Sunday in church at 9 AM is often not the same person you seen on the streets or walking around campus or not paying attention in the lecture hall. Sometimes the difference can be so stark that you feel like you don't really know the person. But if we're all being perfectly honest, wearing all those different masks can be exhausting. So why do we do it? Why do we lie about who we are? My conjecture is that we want one of those personalities to be true. Maybe it is the goody-two-shoes churchgoer. Maybe it is the dangerously honest drunk partier. Maybe it is the carefree student. Whatever the case may be, I think we all have a good idea of the person we would like to be. For me, I'd like to be a person that is there for people more. I'd like to be busy with other people, not with my books. The problem for me, and I'm sure for other people, is that we've all built up these images of ourselves that other people hold us to. It is hard to just break out of that mold. It is uncomfortable to explain why we are not the same person we used to be. But sometimes that explanation is exactly what is needed, if you catch my drift.
For those of you that survived this massively long post, congratulations. Now get back to studying for your finals. Or writing that paper. And have a fan-freaking-tastic day :)
If I told you I don't know why I do it, I would be lying. There are a couple reasons why I am practically a compulsive liar. Neither of them are very good. I shouldn't lie at all, really. But since I do, and there is a life application, I will explain.
First of all, I don't like to talk. I can string lots of letters into words into sentences into paragraphs and so on with a pen or the keyboard. But I can't speak to save my life. So what does this have to do with my incessant lying? It's simple. Sometimes a lie just saves me a lot of words. If I lie, then I don't have to explain. If I don't have to explain, I don't have to mumble and stumble over my words and sound like an uneducated idiot. This really has nothing to do with life. But since that is the main reason that I lie, I thought I should at least mention it.
The other less common but equally unacceptable reason that I don't tell the truth is because I sometimes wish it were the truth. To give a very simple example. 8 times out of 10, if someone asks me to hang out, I tell them I think I am busy at that time on that day, for that exact length of time (or more). (Eighty percent of half of all statistics are made up. No lie.) The truth is, I am probably not busy. Usually I just end up studying to soothe my conscience. The reason I do not spend more time with people is simply because I don't want to. Of course, if I actually said that without explaining, I would probably have no friends. I am not far from that, so I try to avoid it at all costs.
Now that that's in the open, I should explain. I've always been a really quiet person. Like I said before, I don't like to talk. I like to listen. If I feel like I spoke too much in a conversation with my friends, I hate myself a little. That is why I am so bad at sharing my testimony. Even though my intention is to benefit the other person, I feel like such a self-centered attention whore for talking for more than three minutes straight. I can blog a lot about myself though, because it's your choice to read. (Don't worry, I do not think the same of other people who dominate the conversation. It's just me.) Of course, my reluctance to talk makes it hard for me to make friends. My old roommate once asked me if I didn't like her. I said no and asked why. She said it's because I never talked to her. I'm just not one of those persons that can strike up a conversation. If you start talking to me, I'll drop what I'm doing and listen and nod my head and smile. But I will not start talking to you, unless we are really close.
This caused the problem that I am dealing with to this day, and that started after second grade when my parents decided to take me out of a school where I did somehow manage to make friends. Since then, I haven't really made close friends at my schools until the year or two before graduation. I am not kidding (or lying). I started at my middle school in third grade and made maybe one friend-- the other new kid. I stayed at that count, and maybe added a couple more, right up until seventh grade. Then I became friends with people that I still love to hang out with now. The cycle pretty much repeated in high school.
So, after those two rather superfluous paragraphs, I guess my point is that I usually don't want to spend time with people because of all my years in lonerdom. I don't really blame anyone for it. The problem, sadly, is that after all those years of spending so much time alone, it started to grow on me. I eventually came to like being alone, or at least I like to fool myself into believing I do. I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting some alone time. But I'm pretty sure I need/want too much of it.
And ten minutes worth of reading later (if you read as slow as I do), I have come full circle to the actual point of this post. If you can recall from before my pity story, I mentioned that sometimes I lie because I want the lie to be the truth.
Recently I've been thinking a lot about how most Christians like to lead to lives. The person you see in fellowship on Wednesday at 9:30 PM or on Sunday in church at 9 AM is often not the same person you seen on the streets or walking around campus or not paying attention in the lecture hall. Sometimes the difference can be so stark that you feel like you don't really know the person. But if we're all being perfectly honest, wearing all those different masks can be exhausting. So why do we do it? Why do we lie about who we are? My conjecture is that we want one of those personalities to be true. Maybe it is the goody-two-shoes churchgoer. Maybe it is the dangerously honest drunk partier. Maybe it is the carefree student. Whatever the case may be, I think we all have a good idea of the person we would like to be. For me, I'd like to be a person that is there for people more. I'd like to be busy with other people, not with my books. The problem for me, and I'm sure for other people, is that we've all built up these images of ourselves that other people hold us to. It is hard to just break out of that mold. It is uncomfortable to explain why we are not the same person we used to be. But sometimes that explanation is exactly what is needed, if you catch my drift.
For those of you that survived this massively long post, congratulations. Now get back to studying for your finals. Or writing that paper. And have a fan-freaking-tastic day :)
I've always been a bit jealous of how well you spoke, to be honest.
ReplyDeleteYou know exactly how I speak. I slur words, I stutter, I mumble, I stop halfway through a sentence after realizing it's not what I wanted to say.
You always managed to craft your words into exactly what the situation called for. At least, that's what I thought.
I decided, 3rd or 4th marking period of freshman year, that I should try to be friends with you. I don't even remember if I liked you back then (and regardless I always knew I never had a chance), but I will assure you that it wasn't the sole reason.
So I tried, right. Man, what a person to pick. But quiet people are always interesting, I am sure of this. Or they are crazy. Either is okay, I think.
Whether by nature or out of pity (because I am sure you never really cared that much) you totally started responding to me and that was pretty cool.
Those days in November-December of sophomore year where you'd totally wait for me so we could walk to the MPR together are some of my most treasured days at High Tech! (Not embarassed to tell you, you can tell.) It was like I almost made a friend, or something.
Through some happenstance we started talking online and I was like sweet because I am so much better at talking online you don't even know.
Sometimes you actually talked a lot, but it just made me wonder if I was a close friend, or just that idiot you could rant to because he would totally listen. I still wonder that now.
But regardless I considered you a friend, and honestly, I believe you're the only friend I made at high tech (from our year).
Yet I do things like this, and I never get a response back, still I am mindlessly trudging forward hoping that things might be as once where.
But that has nothing to do about lying.
Certainly I agree that we may lie for things we wish were true. Not all lies, of course, that is just an over generalization.
But pssh. Your posts are usually 'okay here's something I do NOW HERE IT IS APPLIED TO THE WORLD.' I find it a bit silly, but I know that is you. You are silly.
I will stop before my comment degrades any more.
-Jonathan
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