You come home late one night after drinking, and you need an explanation for your parents. You come up with a quick excuse that you got stuck in traffic, and your parents buy it. You go to bed proud of yourself, and the issue never comes up again. You go on in life and never lie again as long as you live. You become a world renowned famous politician.
Now, as we all know, that is not going to happen. Odds are if you lie once and get away with it, you will continue to lie until you are caught. After that night you’ll go drinking again, you’ll then begin to lie about the “F” you received on your term paper. You’ll lie about the car crash you were in because you fell asleep, and the reason as to why the school called your house (because you have been skipping classes). With time, you have 2 lives going on, even though you are one person. You have the life that you are letting your parents or friends know; where you are the “all around perfect child” who sufferers from extreme misfortune. The second is the truth, the truth that only you know, and the truth that you may only tell to the closest of your friends or someone who you know only online. But what if it goes beyond that? What if you suddenly find yourself telling different variations of stories? What if you start hiding things, and perhaps even start lying to yourself? What if the lies and the truths become so common that you stop knowing which is which?
I do not know where my lying first began. Perhaps it was as early as fourth grade when my accelerated math teacher would assign massive homework and since I didn’t want to do it, I told my parents I had no homework. However even after that the lies continued through there and middle school. Come the start of High School, I finally start to wake up to reality. I saw myself with very few friends, little confidence, and in low respect levels with my elders. I still had an escape; my computer. As punishment, a lie I told about swimming one night resulted in the loss of my computer for a month, and I was left to face reality.
Reality was harsh. I saw what I had become, how little potential I had with my future, and how much I annoyed people. I got my computer back, but the escape of games didn’t outlast the harsh reality of my life. I needed a new existence, a new escape.
“Sarah” came into existence. I joined a forum to socialize in, but I used a pen name of Sarah. I was the best newbie there, and even won an award for it. I was power hungry though, and began a fight to become a moderator, to which I eventually lost. Yet, I had gained friends through lies and deceit. My name was Sarah, I portrayed that I was a girl with a dark past and a large recovery. I portrayed I was never angry, and saw a psychologist to help with anger management problems. I went insane with lying, saying that I had torn my ankle, making up days where all my friends had abandoned me, and stories about events in my past which never existed. As “Sarah” my grades were straight A’s, while in reality they were B’s. Yet, “she” helped for some reason, and I made more friends and got respect at the same time.
Back in the real world, in late August I actually began to come close to my first girlfriend in my life, which continued until October. It ended when a friend of mine ended that friendship. But by October, I had left that forum and I blamed it on the breakup. Come November, I joined HelpingTeens as “Sarah” by the recommendation of one of my online friends, since nobody fought there. It was my idea of bliss. Yet, I needed to make up stories so I could relate my life to the users, thus helping them. Thus began the stories of depression. Yet, something happened that I did not expect; these stories began to become reality. The story of my torn ankle became reality when I hurt my knee in marching band, tearing a meniscus. The stories of massive depression became true, and never have fully left. The self harm became reality, just in a different form. Suicidal tenancies were made up, but those were not felt yet. I eventually was accepted as a mentor there, and experienced HelpLink, where I lied even further. Yet, there was guilt for this, and I eventually admitted it to the first person to that date, Helen the Administrator. She accepted it at first, but later removed me from staff for making up answers. I rejoined my forum, and don’t remember much from that time. Come May, I had a spark of hope from Helen when she removed me, and awakens with the idea of my true existence. I saw a loss of control in my life, and did the only thing I can do which was to try to kill Sarah. I took aspirin in hopes of letting her die and they seemed to work. Naturally, the world needed to know about this, and with that, the word spread. People became massively depressed over this online, so I needed an out. Yet, none existed but the truth. And I tell it to the best of my ability.
So, it seemed like a fair story, and seemed like I gained a lot from the experience. Yet, if you look at me now, I regret every minute of it. Why? Sarah does not leave me. She travels with me. She fights for control every minute. I hear her yelling at me inside my mind at times, wanting to control. I was recently diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), and it has taken me through the past 2 years to move to suicide 3 times. I also was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder which comes from the extreme care needed for the cover up. Everything that I said happened to me happened in reality. I am presently recovering from Meniscal surgery. I am presently depressed. I presently get straight As, and have issues with containing my anger. I am seeing a psychologist here and there and I do not remember at least a year of my life because of it. My teenage years are destroyed. I have the first 2 years which were in a different kind of haze and the 2nd half of my 16th year to call my teenage years. I’ve lost the experience.
There is no such thing as a lie. It always becomes the truth at a time when you do not want it to.