My new years resolution was to never tell a lie, except in certain situations where I seen it morally okay or insignificant (is to protect myself, telling a lie to a person who is an utter as whole). So far, I've slipped up quite a bit,telling various white lies to strangers and people I know. A lot of it has to do with my low self esteem, I will tell lies or variations of the truth about my past or my behavior in order to seem more normal l/less of a sperger. In all I'd say I've lied less than I used to, but I almost do it instinctively in order to avoid embarrassment.
I'm just wondering what people think of this idea, and also what is your experience with lying? How often do you lie, and how serious are the lies? Why do you lie, and to whom?
I'll cut to the actual advice and suggest therapy. You've done a good thing in identifying that this impulse and your low self-esteem are not good for you. Do something about it.
>>16919175
Yeah, I know i need therapy. I was just interested in the subject of lying, since I see a lot of people on here telling various white lies to their spouses and such. I think it affects you on a subconscious level, for instance making you more untrusting of others.
>>16919157
I used to lie a lot when I was a teenager, but after being caught, I stopped. I'm now blunt and very honest, sometimes to a fault, but people seem to respect that. And if you have weird, awkward stories from being young, then it will make you seem more human. Humans are imperfect creatures.
For example, when I was in middle school, I was in art club with a few good friends. We took a trip to the arts section of the local college and had an assignment where we had to draw depictions of the Holocaust. I don't know what happened to me, but I started feeling hot and cold as soon as we got there. I went to the bathroom and immediately started shitting and vomiting EVERYWHERE. And there was no way for me to clean it up. It was also one room with a toilet, so it's not like there were stalls around for others to use--there was a line outside. They were out of paper towels too. I tried to hide my shame, but it happened again 30 minutes later. I think they knew something was up, but I couldn't just leave. My friend told me to eat something and got me some apple juice. Same thing happened a third time, and at that point, the bathrooms on that part of campus were on lockdown until they could clean it up. On the way back, with my jacket wrapped around my waist and my shit-smeared pants, another friend piped up, "What the fuck is that? It smells like a zoo out here." And then my grandma came to pick me up and was freaking out, as I was trying to keep myself from chunking in the back of her car. And when I got home, I stayed on the toilet (by candlelight), shitting my guts out while vomiting into the trashcan as my mom hand washed my soiled underwear in the sink.
Friends make me tell these stories at parties, because they think it's hilarious, and it makes use out of my "tragic" past. Embarrassment is a good way to connect with people.
