Chances are you know a liar; you might even be a liar. People tell lies for numerous reasons, including to get attention, to avoid consequences, as a means to-an-end, or even to spare someone’s feelings; some people even consider omission of information to be a form of lying.
I lie everyday, and numerous times a day at that.
Socially speaking my lies are inconsequential; they make no difference to those that hear them, and in fact they make our interactions easier.
You see, I have a chronic illness and am in chronic pain. Sometimes it is intermittent and sometimes it is daily for months at a time. Faithfully, everyday society demands: “Hey, how are you?” and everyday I answer in some tune of “fine” or “good” when in truth I feel nothing of the sort. I want to cry, to curl up on my floor and scream in pain. I fight the urge to vomit, force myself to eat morsels of food and guzzle ginger-ale so that I can take my medicine. With every step I take I think I might pass out- either from the world-spinning dizziness, the lightheaded blackouts, or just the overwhelming pain. Sitting isn’t much better. But society doesn’t want to hear that when they ask their simple question. So I lie.
I am the best liar you know.