Picture by enigma00
Desensitized is the word that escaped me the other day when I was chatting with a friend. This particular friend has been a valuable source of light as I have maneuvered through a darkness that was created long ago.
I had asked my friend a question, and she had replied, and then a second, unexpected response followed. She had said she didn’t like to answer those kinds of questions, because she knew the answers hurt me. (So as not to confuse anyone, my friend and I were discussing all the lies that had been told to me by someone who pretended to have my best interest at heart.) Secrets aren’t so easily kept and lies aren’t so easily concealed when people come together and “compare notes”.
But, it took me by surprise . . . the extension of such kind consideration to how the response would affect me. And there was a time when those answers did hurt, and as I tried to explain then, I can say more clearly now . . . with all the lies that have been revealed . . . with the revelation of each, I have become that much more desensitized to the pain that such lies can inflict.
The question most asked today is, “Is there anything she didn’t lie about?” We have managed to come up with a few things that weren’t lies, but these things are so trivial it doesn’t matter if they are true or not. And I should clarify, that lying is a term applied loosely. Much of the lies were given in the form of fabrications. It goes beyond the normal limits of lying. And it does appear today that everything then was a lie.
It has been said that everyone lies, and for those of us who are reasonably normal, we lie either out of a need to protect ourselves or out of guilt or shame. But for those who are dysfunctional, there is usually no logic or reasoning behind the lies and fabricated stories. Sometimes it seems as if some of them lie just for the sake of lying. They wil tell us things without provocation . . . simple things, like what they had for dinner the day before, or who they ran into while out shopping . . . and yet, the truth is, that seven course meal they boasted about was merely a cold-cut sandwhich, and they didn’t go out shopping or run into anyone. But, those are the simple things . . . there are things like the confessions of their undying love for you, or tragic tales of being raped, or the struggles of making a decision on terminating a pregnancy, or the painful recounting of the death of a loved one, or the despair of growing up too quickly in the face of teenage pregnancy . . . and yet, once again, the truth is none of those things happened.
Picture by LivanaCelosia
I’m not exactly sure how I feel about the emergence of the truth behind, yet, another revealed lie with each passing day. Sometimes it feels as if it will never end . . . that if I live to be a hundred, I will still be uncovering more lies that she told.
However, discovering that it was all lies, catapulted me past that point of “learning to let go”. It is actually true . . . that the truth will set us free. We can’t hold on to what wasn’t there, but, what struggle I face now is not knowing if I can forgive, and I’m leaning toward the idea that it’s not possible to forgive someone who corrupts lives through deceit.
I find myself thinking about the others who were pulled into this web of deceit, and I am certain, that if she lied to me, she lied to everyone else. She played us all against each other, and with some, she still plays. There are a few with whom I’ve managed to reconnect, and the experience brought me friendships I didn’t expect to gain. There are others with whom I’d like to bury the hatchet, but I fear the wounds run too deep.
As for the one with the blood on her hands . . . I don’t think I can find that place where forgiveness is a possibility, but I’m thinking forgetting is the next best thing, and I’m certain I can find that place where leaving it all behind and forgetting her is possible.
Kheri's Thoughts 
2 Comments
I know the feeling because I have loved a liar as well. One liar was the type that volunteered lies, even if it wasn’t necessary. The other, my most recent, was the type that lied to keep things running smoothly. She lied about being in love, she lied about wanting a monogamous relationship, she lied about her relationship status with someone else. She told me whatever story was necessary to keep me loving her and not leaving. When she was finally ready to move on, she simply said she wasn’t interested in seeing me anymore. I thought she had turned on a dime. Finding out/admitting later that she had been deceiving me all along let me see that she didn’t turn on a dime. It was all part of the way our relationship was built. Yet, I still love her. This lying woman. I’ll be glad when I’ve cleansed her out of my soul. Thanks for your post.
There just aren’t any words to express my gratitude, steadycat, for your comment. As I read the synopsis of your experience, I felt as if I were watching a re-run of my own experience.
There are so many things in your comment that touch tender nerves, but I think the honesty, “Yet, I still love her.” touches the deepest parts of me.
If it were possible, I’d rip the love of her out of my being, and like you, I find myself, every once in a while, thinking, “I can’t wait for the day when she is completely gone from my thoughts.”