I have admitted previously that I am a pathological liar. I speak and a lie pops out. I really cannot help it. It happens so often it has become my default setting. The lies of course vary. Sometimes I need one to support my grandiose nature,
“Yes I have two Bentleys at home, one for winter and one for summer.”
Alternatively, it may be to cut you down.
“No that shirt does not suit you. Pastel shades make you look insipid.” You look great actually but I cannot have that.
Other times the lie appears to deflect your unwarranted criticism of me.
“I could not be in Revolution bar with a blonde lady because I was in a meeting still with a client. Shall we ring him and embarrass him by asking him to confirm he was with me? No? Thought not.” That blonde was a delight. I got her number within minutes.
I was discussing all of this with Dr O. She asked me if I could remember when I began to tell lies. I sat silent for a short while.
“Can you not remember? Would it be fair to say that you have always told lies?” she asked.
“Wait I am remembering. That’s it. I remember now,” I answered triumphantly. She looked at me in that expectant way she has. I do like that. I hope to see her giving me that look from my bed in the near future.
I went on to explain that I recall cheating at Monopoly. I always insisted on being the banker and in the more frenetic stages of the game I would always ensure an extra £100 would be allocated to me when I passed go by sliding it off the pile with two other notes. Nobody noticed. I would then routinely give the other players short change and they usually failed to notice. If they did, I would correct it and blame it on the speed of the game. I would then invent rule changes with players who were not regular players and as with any instance where I look to alter reality, I would say it with such conviction they would back down. After all, my word is law, I am a god.
I continued to explain how this set in motion an reliance on cheating and telling lies. I noticed how doing so always afforded me a better table at a restaurant, got me out of a commitment I was no longer interested in, garnered interest from somebody new as I lied about my career. I achieved promotions by lying about my achievements and telling tales about my competitors. Wielding my trusty friend plausible deniability I carved my lies into the landscape, built towers of fabrications and cities of deceit. In fact, I confessed to a scribbling Dr O I would be hard pressed to recognise the truth anymore since lies serve me so much more effectively.