Liar, Liar

I am exhausted.

Physically.  Mentally.  Emotionally.

I am done.

Drained.

I worked today and then went to the Tri Met Lost & Found to pick up my tablet, which I had left on a bus last week.  Going to and from Tri Met, I worked on a couple of the inventory questions for Refuge Recovery.  One was about my stealing habits.  That one wasn’t too bad.  I’ve stolen relatively little in my life and have either paid the people back or am already in the process of doing so.   The other one was about dishonesty and lying.  That one was not so good.

I don’t think the whole purpose of this inventory is to leave you feeling like shit about yourself for being an absolutely appalling person, but that’s certainly what happened to me this afternoon.  I am a terrible, terrible liar (and by that I mean, I am actually quite good at lying and getting away with it).  I lie (or, used to, anyway… hopefully, not so much any more) about anything, if I thought it would keep me from getting hurt or getting in trouble.

My primary modus operandi was the ‘lie of omission’ where I would pretty much tell the truth but strategically leave out bits to bend the meaning of what I would be saying to something more favorable to what I wanted the other person to believe.  Closely related to that is keeping secrets.  I’m very good at that.  Again, these are things which, if they got out, would be damaging to myself.  I’d also intentionally lie groundwork surrounding these secrets to not point directly at me, if they were to come out.

I would overtly lie also but, again, sandwiching the lie in a sea of truth to make it more credible.  I have lied, at some point in my life, to everyone who has ever cared about me and about whom I care about.  I also seem to have no moral qualms about doing so.  The only times it seems to bother me are on the rare occasions when I get caught.

I’ve already decided that this is going to change during my recovery this time.  Hell, it has too.  This is one of the main facilitators to my relapse last week.  If I don’t get on this, I will relapse again.

Anyway, I got home and just took a nap.  It resulted in me having a layered dream.  I was back at the treatment center (where I fell asleep), and then somewhere else (and fell asleep).   When I tried to wake myself up, I could never seem to get all the way back to full consciousness.  My alarm finally went off and I woke up feeling like ass.

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