Liars Are Losers, Yet They Win


I think the ability to lie must have come first.

Lying, to get something they wanted, or to avoid something.

Probably lying since birth, to avoid parental wrath, to avoid parental emotional traps, to get space to breathe.

Then realizing they were trusted,  the lying got easier, and deeper.  Every lie was rewarded with getting what they wanted.  No one confronting them.  No one asking them questions.  No one prying into their secret life.  No accountability for their actions.  Only a truly skillful liar could get away with the kinds of blatant secrecy and live with themselves.  Only someone who didn’t think lies were really bad, were actually necessary, who really enjoyed a good lie, could treat someone else like sex addicts do. 

Those movies who make some loser lie to get the hot girl never show the real final outcome.  They make a joke out of the scenario.  They make him seem like an OK guy who just needed a little help from a lie.  Or the liar is demonized and turned into a true cruel hearted bastard.  But the ‘nice guy’ who lies to get his way, to hurt other people, to keep his secret life, Hollywood doesn’t really ‘get’ them.  Because they aren’t fiction.  They are truth.  And truth isn’t funny.  Truth hurts too much.  How that loser then keeps on lying, and keeps on deceiving the ‘girl of his dreams’.  His lie won him the prize.  The lies will not stop there.

Liars who lie ‘to get the girl’ have a lot in common with rapists.  With serial killers.  They have no respect for women as human beings.  They want to control them and own them, for the moment, and when they are tired of them, they get a new one.  Or a dozen new ones.  The world, especially women, owe them.  They are all addicted to the thrill, and the easy hunt, and the easy kill.  And they lie so smoothly that everyone thinks they were such ‘nice guys’, until the truth comes out.  Everyone is stunned.  How could they?  How is that possible?  How could we not have seen that coming?

Because the perpetrators excelled at lying.

Lots of men get addicted to porn.  It is easy to whack off and never have to say your sorry, for anything.  Perfect marriage.  But only the talented liars never get caught.  They are too used to cleaning up after themselves.  They give nothing away.  A normal guy will finally spill, or feel really badly about and truly wish to stop, wish to interact with his real life girlfriend, not like having penis raw and deformed and erectile dysfunction from constant masturbation.  They see those things are bad enough to do something about.  They don’t retreat into a fantasy life of lies and easy rationalizations and avoidance behaviors.  They have enough conscience that the lies show through, or they wouldn’t even dream of lying to that depth.  After a while, even a series of white lies becomes obvious as a web of black lies, and they cannot face themselves any more.  Not so for the accomplished liar.  Lying is the only way to go, the only way to live.  And once that is their mode in life, they can’t even comprehend what truth is.

Thus is the scariest part.  True addicts not only require huge amounts of thrill, escalating due to habituation of the same stimulus no longer evoking enough response when the neurochemicals have become worn out, but they must be able to hide their addiction with skill, and enjoy hiding and secrecy and getting away with lies repeatedly, for years, for life.  Poor liars will sooner or later be confronted.  Great liars are rewarded for their lies, and see no reason to quit.  Lying is their life.  Addiction is easy.  Emotionally exhausted from childhood, their reward centers forever wired to thrill and lies and quick fixes, there is no reason for a great liar to stop addict behavior.

It is their life.

It is who they are.  Who hates themselves so much that lying merely fuels that self hate.  That when they look in the mirror, they see the liar, and are unphased. 

Some are pathological.  Some are true narcissist/psychopath.  But anyone who can lie with such alacrity is not far from the same.  They don’t lie just to protect themselves.  They are willing to mislead, disrespect, infect others to get what they want, when they want it, with no consequence at all.

And not really care about the outcome.

How they got that way may be a sad story.  That they continue to inflict their damage upon others is ongoing tragedy.

Until they decide that the love of lying and lazy, easy fixes is not, absolutely not, who they choose to be, nothing else changes.  The lies must stop first.  The love of lies must end.

Why am I caring to enter the mind of an addict?

My brother is one.  My father was one.  My mother was a narcissist. 

I know my father lied, and made promises without any regard to whether he would actually try to keep them.  It was just words.  I also know he was trapped into a marriage he didn’t want, with a woman he didn’t love.  They tried to ‘make it work’ because that was what you did, then.  But he never improved, and he never changed, and he finally hated himself to death.

I know my brother lied.  He lied to stay under the radar, to keep anyone from getting close, to keep his addictions.  Oddly, he wasn’t very secretive about his addictions.  He didn’t really have a ‘secret’ life, except maybe to say anything to keep mom and NJ happy.  No one else mattered, and they only mattered because thinking about how he disappointed them hurt him.  But he had to dull his existence but he couldn’t take the input.  We were all surprised that he hasn’t hated himself to death yet.  Maybe the cushion of living with his little sister saved him.  I don’t envy either of them.

My mother.  I know she lied to us.  Parents think it is perfectly acceptable to lie to their children.  To hide things.  To keep secrets from them.  I know she twisted truth to fit her interpretation.  I listened as she would embellish a story to make it more exciting.  OK, she was a writer.  She liked the drama.  But mostly, she was a drama queen, high on tension.  Very high strung, very nervous, very unhappy.  She hated herself to death as well.  She even got to have her final dramatic ending. 

Me?  I lie.  I keep secrets.  I do not tell my children everything.  I fudge data at work.  I say things to smooth over ruffled feathers.  I have lied to keep people from delving deeper into a subject which I consider none of their business or I do not want to discuss with them.   I say ‘I’m OK’ rather than tell a loved one the truth and then explain that it is my issue to deal with.  BUT:  I do not make promises without weighing the consequences if I cannot follow through, and if I am uncertain I can follow through, I do not promise.  I do not make a commitment lightly nor revoke it lightly and without consequence to myself.  I do not bring someone into my life under false pretenses, or without planning on inviting them to my inner life. 

Why have a relationship with someone if the only goal is to recreate the tension and distance you can have with a stranger?  Why promise communication, and fidelity, and honesty, if those are the things you know you are incapable of giving?

Because liars don’t care.  Liars can, and do, just those things, and not even feel badly about it.  No one should be in their business.  No one.  But they have a right to be in everyone else’s.

Hypocrites.  Double standard.  Selfish bastards.

The love of lies precludes all other evils a sex addict inflicts on others.  As long as they agree with themselves to lie is their favorite policy, they will always use and abuse and all recovery is just pretend.  Like their entire life.  Fake.

I may be writing a book…..

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