I am not a good liar. Except when I am.
Ever since I was little, I have been a terrible liar. I either laugh, smile, or look extremely guilty. I also feel guilty really easily which doesn't help.
My siblings and I, as part of my parents' dedication to our extra-curricular activities, all grew up playing the piano. Practising was not something any of us enjoyed. And so, like the little angels we were, we would lie about when we practised ("Oh yeah, we all practised before you got home, mom!") and we would vouch for each other. It was part of the siblings' code of conduct. Leave the piano lid up, that will fool them!
Well, that didn't sit so well with me (as a terrible liar) and eventually I, in tears, spilt the beans to my mom that we had all been lying. Now, I felt great about owning up to this, my siblings, however, were less pleased. Honestly, though, my mom probably knew we were lying.
This is not to say that I never lie; I can tell a white lie every now again if need be. And you could probably consider leaving things out as a kind of lie, as well. Some things just don't need to be shared and therefore you may not get the full story from me but hey, at least you got part of it! I also sometimes exaggerate a little bit so that I can entertain people (because I love making people laugh), but those are relatively harmless.
So, when am I a good liar? When people ask how I'm doing. Yes, everyone knows the whole, "I'm fine," line is a cover for actually not being fine, but I have gotten good at deflecting. I have gotten good at just talking about the one good thing that may have happened over the weekend and not mentioning all the bad. Some people will look at me and know that I'm lying, but they also know if they try to push for an answer, they will not get it. Sometimes it's a matter of me truly not knowing how I am feeling and sometimes it's a matter of knowing that if I talk about it, I will cry, and no one needs to see that. So, I lie.
I say I am fine, "Really! I am. Don't worry." And move on.
Or I say, "I'm not too bad, how are you?" and don't ever dive into the details.
And every once in a while an: "Oh, you know." I never know how someone will interpret this one.
Lately, though, I have found it's getting harder and harder to lie about it. I know I am not doing well, I think everyone around me knows it. I do, after all, wear my emotions on my face. I can't tell you how many times I have tried to lie, either for a serious reason or not, and had someone say, "You're lying, aren't you." Never framed as a question, always a statement. I also try to be as open as possible with my friends and family because a) I think it's important for people close to you to know when you're struggling, but also b) to encourage openness. We should all feel like we can talk to people close to us about big, deep things.
So now, as I try to be more open, I default to: "I'm alive," because it's the truth — I am alive, I am breathing, aren't I? And what a beautiful thing it is to be alive. The world might be a little complicated right now and a little piece of my heart might be missing, but at least it's still beating.
It will keep beating.
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