Hi, I’m Mallory and I am an addict. I’m addicted to lying.
**waits awkwardly for a response**
It’s hard realizing that often at your most challenging time, you are alone. Usually this is because at some point or another, you turned against those who mattered to you most. So it’s really no surprise that all my experiences have equated into showing who truly has been there for me, been my rock and support system- despite the mistreatment I’ve shown them.
I’ve never been nor ever felt so powerless in my life. Powerless, but not helpless as I was soon to find out. I know that I gain my strength from the relationships around me, from the connections I make. However once all ties have been cut, there is nothing to hold onto, it’s so easy to fall.
I hate hurting people, and its hard to acknowledge that I have caused so much pain and suffering for my mom, dad and my sister. My addiction has broken my family yet they are still trying to help me even though I have not deserved it. I’ve broken their trust so many times through lies, deception and manipulation. There was a point where I didn’t even know what the truth was any more. It is hard to realize that some relationships will never be the same again, and you feel powerless over the loss but being helpless will not solve anything.
“We will never trust you again”
“You are tearing apart this family”
“I wanted to kill you, never have I been more ashamed”
When I tell a lie, everything begins to feel okay. There is a little guilt but sooner rather than later I ignore it and it fades away. Sometimes questions are asked, and like a brick layer would make a wall sturdy, I play a new layer of cement and seal away the truth. But every time you tell a lie, you use the bad kind of cement, one that cracks easily and fades away after time- certainly not strong enough to hold up a wall, and eventually, everything I tried so hard to build (albeit negatively) comes crumbling down.
I could go on about my education and relationships, but being the narcissist I am, I’m more concerned with how lying has damaged myself. I do not like this person that I am, she is not a role model or an inspiration- she is going nowhere. I do not recognize her in the mirror and I do not like that she has taken over the person I used to be, someone happier, healthier and heading towards a better place.
The lies I had created, reinforcing spider webs of falsities, made me feel uncomfortable with my own life, uncomfortable with my own reality. I admit that I drank my way through it, seeing alcohol as a coping mechanism, making good times feel like my only times and using fantasy to fight against the cold reality that I had created. There were plenty of nights which were memorably forgettable I took on the persona of the fiend- a glamorous fun-loving go-getter who wouldn’t let anything stand in her way. She was promiscuous, controversial and never had any problems- always ready for a good time. But she wasn’t me.
Several times last year my family tried to reach out, but the fiend wasn’t hearing any of it. She didn’t care about feelings or the pain and suffering she was causing. She could home-wreck and it wouldn’t phase her, drink her self into dangerous situations and she would still find a way to life at it- carpe diem right?
My life swung dramatically from partying 6 days a week and being drunk for 7 to locking myself in my room for days on end and going AWOL. I got sick. I got tired. I entered that dark place then came out smiling and acting like everything was okay. I could spend 90% of my money on a good time in one weekend and suffer on R100 for the next 3 weeks. Friends knew that I would go disappearing for weeks on end, my parents called the police and searched for me. I could have picked up the phone at anytime to call home and say that I was in trouble. My guilt, my fear over what I had done prevented me from doing so. At any time, I could have stopped acting helpless and empowered myself to change my situation.
But I rationalised my behaviour. As I continued with the lies I began to believe them. See, the lies became my fantasy and escapism from the real world. In my mind I was living the life, I had it all and I believed if I gave the appearance that I was okay, still smiling and having fun, than all would be okay and work out for the best. I avoided negative people and personal questions. I allowed people to see what I wanted them to see. I wanted people to see perfection, so that I could believe that I was perfection too. I wanted to feel powerful so I faked it, lied, stole it and cheated myself into believing that I was powerful instead of powerless.
But I was powerless, I was my own Kryptonite. Like a moth to a light-bulb, continually flying in that suicidal orbit, I felt no regrets for my actions until I hit rock bottom, until now. Seeing this destruction this aftermath the world I couldn’t save because I had defected and betrayed my own reality only to return and find it almost non-existent.
But I refuse to be helpless, I refuse to believe that there isn’t a way to rectify the situation So I’m going to try help myself. One day at a time. A saw a wonderful tweet today: The best thing about telling the truth? Not having to remember what you said. I want to live that way. I don’t want to live a lie.