Alright, so I’ve been wrestling with this one for a while, just trying to get my head around why some folks, particularly those people label as narcissists, seem to lie as easily as they breathe. It’s not just the occasional fib; it’s like a whole different operating system for them. My journey with this wasn’t about reading books, but about living through it, and man, was it a learning experience.
My “practice” really kicked off when I found myself dealing with someone super close who just couldn’t tell the truth to save their life. At first, I was just confused. I’d hear a story, and something wouldn’t add up. Then another, and another. It was a constant stream of things that just felt… off. So, I started to observe. Not in a creepy way, but I began to really listen, to pay attention to the details, the inconsistencies. This was my first step, just gathering my own, firsthand data, you could say.
I remember trying to make sense of it. Why lie about what you had for lunch? Why invent entire scenarios that never happened? Why exaggerate every single achievement or, conversely, every single slight against them? I spent a lot of time trying to connect the dots, thinking maybe I was missing something, or maybe I was the one not understanding.
Then I moved on to the next phase of my “practice”: interaction. I tried different approaches. First, I’d gently question things. “Oh, I thought you said last week that X happened, not Y?” That was usually met with either a more elaborate lie, a sudden rage, or they’d somehow twist it to make me feel like I was the one being difficult or accusatory. It was like verbal judo, and I always ended up on the mat. So, I stopped doing that pretty quick.
Then I tried just ignoring the lies. Letting them say whatever they wanted and just nodding along. But that felt… icky. Like I was complicit, or like I was just accepting being treated like a fool. It also made genuine connection impossible, because what was there to connect with if everything was built on a wobbly foundation of untruths?
So, after all this trying, observing, and frankly, getting pretty emotionally battered, here’s what I’ve pieced together from my own experience. It’s not a doctor’s diagnosis, just what I saw unfold right in front of me.
Why I Think They Do It So Much
- It’s about crafting an image. Deep down, I got the sense they were incredibly insecure. The lies were all about building up this perfect, amazing, always-in-the-right version of themselves. Reality was often too plain or too critical for them, so they just… rewrote it. I watched them literally invent a persona.
- Control, control, control. If they control the story, they feel like they control how you see them, and maybe even how they see themselves. Lies are a powerful tool for that. If you believe their version, they’ve got a bit of power over you. I experienced this manipulation firsthand.
- They can’t handle shame or blame. Oh boy. Any hint that they might be at fault, or less than perfect? Instant lie to deflect, deny, or project. It was like an allergic reaction to accountability. I learned this by seeing it happen over and over.
- Sometimes, I swear they believe their own hype. They repeat the lies so often, with such conviction, that it becomes their truth. It’s a bit scary to witness, actually. It’s like their brain just accepts the fabricated reality.
- It gets them what they want. Sometimes the lies are purely transactional. To get attention, sympathy, an advantage, or to avoid consequences. It’s a strategy that, unfortunately, probably worked for them at some point, so they just keep using it.
My big “aha!” moment, if you can call it that, wasn’t some grand psychological insight. It was simpler: I realized I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t make them honest. I couldn’t reason them into telling the truth. All my “practice” in trying to understand or engage with the lies was just draining me.
So, what did my practice ultimately lead to? It led me to protect myself. I started to disengage from the lie-filled conversations. I began to create distance. Because at the end of the day, trying to build any kind of relationship, or even just have a normal interaction, with someone who constantly lies is like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree. It’s frustrating, messy, and you just end up with sticky hands.
It’s a tough pill to swallow, especially if you care about the person. But my practical takeaway was this: you can spend forever trying to figure out the “why” behind every lie, or you can accept that this is how they operate and decide how you’re going to operate in response, for your own sanity. For me, that meant stepping back. A lot.
