The lies we tell…

We all tell lies. Maybe just little ones, or maybe only to ourselves, but we all do. Ultimately, most people don’t want to be wrong or the villain of the story. So they lie…

I was having a conversation with my mom about something a family member told her, and my mom was accepting this story as an absolute truth — despite her own admission that this family member lies or at the least most often exaggerates. She refused to accept my belief that the truth often falls somewhere in the middle of all the sides of the story. People lie, even just a little, for the sake of self-preservation. Often, they believe their version of the “truth.” This made me wonder – are we innately unable to be fully honest?

In the past week I have spoken to three different people who in the middle of a casual conversation told me stories that did not involve me at all), and lied to me in some part of their story. Of course, always in the parts that made them look bad in some way. (For the record, none of these people know each other).

Obviously for privacy reasons I cannot disclose the details of the stories but this was the gist:

Person one — lied regarding a dispute, stating they were the victim and not the aggressor.

Person two — lied about asking for or taking money from someone, and never repaying.

Person three — lied about a time in the past in which they were homophobic.

The most interesting thing to witness in all of this was that they seemed to believe with full conviction that they were telling the truth. I desperately wanted to ask them, “do you know you are lying to me? Or do you believe what you are saying right now?” But I’m sure that would not be well received. Especially with these four people. But the thing is, I know I lie sometime, and I know why I do it, I don’t know that it is always justified or a real reason versus an excuse, but I am aware of the lies I tell… are you?

I suppose a large part of it has to to do with self-awareness and self-accountability. Believe it or not, there have been times where I have lied and then had to give myself a lecture on why it was not okay. Perhaps I have just had more therapy than most? Like I have said in the past, I thrived in a changing environment (caused by the pandemic) of high anxiety, self-doubt, mild paranoia, with depression on top because y’all just got to the party — I’m the fucking mayor of this town.

You better werk bitch!

Work had been kicking my ass! This new job is really putting my skills to the test but in the best way possible! So far this new job has been very challenging but also fun and engaging. My last job was not so much challenging as it was taxing. I referred to it as “death by a million paper cuts” because it was just that — a daily exercise in stroking egos and covering for the incompetence of others. In that sense, I am happy to report that work is so much better. Of course, there are always draw backs, and the only one here is that I’ve been too busy to even lunch which leaves little room for playtime with Peanut. But y’all know me and this won’t last, I am determined to make break times that provide solid quality time together.

My little old man…

Walter is having some incontinence issues and I’m getting very anxious about a decline in his health since he is up there in age. It’s making me feel far more anxious and sick to my stomach than I have been letting on with anyone.

Side note:

The main image used in this post is of a game called West of Loathing on Switch. It is pretty entertaining and not difficult at all. Highly recommend it.

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