I've come to the conclusion that, no matter how hard I try, I instinctively lie about many very small things, almost exclusively to my family, in order to cover my own ass. I don't lie about anything serious and while I have nothing to fear due to my open personality, I realize that there's no justification for any amount of lying. In my defense, I do this because of family drama. My family goes crazy over the stupidest things, no matter who did what thing or where it happened, so I naturally go with whatever answer puts me in the safer side of the situation. I even go as far as to seriously defend myself, even knowing I've just told a lie in the event that I actually did cause whatever is going on. Typically, it's the smallest things, such as eating something that I didn't know was someone else's. Who can blame me for that, though? We have 3 children and 6 adults iving in this house and we all share the same kitchen and pantry area. If something isn't labeled or bagged, it's generally considered free game, so I naturally assume something is for "the house", as we say here, if it does not meet that criterea. Sometimes, though, people don't follow the rules and I get yelled at, so I just try my best to avoid the drama and lie about it if it's my fault. The sad part is, it's almost always stupid little things like that. I don't really lie about anything serious or mindblowing. Still, it makes me feel like a terrible human being because I know that there's a part of me that naturally tells lies.
This whole thing is crazy. I see no reason to lie. I advocate honesty at every stop. I always tell people the truth when I speak to them, I rarely ever lie about my past and when I do, it's to get someone to back off; I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. The few lies I do stand by are harmless and generally only exist because I stretched the truth once and it got out of hand. I don't hurt anyone with these small lies, nor do I alter who I actually am as a person. I'm not one for distorting the image of who you are. I'd rather people know me and choose to love or hate me up front and on the spot. Life just seems better that way, considering there's a lot less drama than there would be otherwise.
Ultimately, I've concluded that I tell these stupid and damn near harmless lies in an attempt to look after myself. It may not be a matter of life or death, but it sure does save me a lot of headaches.
In other news, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm deathly afraid of very many things. I love life, but in turn, I fear death. I fear spiders. I fear any bug that looks crazy. I don't believe in ghosts, but I fear them if I'm alone when the lights are out. I fear being single forever. I fear falling for the wrong person. I fear heights. I fear
losing certain people.
There's a whole lot more, but that's a brief example of things I fear, details excluded. To be more specific about something recent, though, I fear that I may be developing feelings for someone that I've yet to even meet in person. These feelings are not very deep right now and hell, I could write it off as a crush, but if things play out a certain way, I wont be able to help myself. I know how I am. I hate long distance relationships, but if things seem to be going very well, I always put my heart and soul into it and try as hard as I can to make it work. I don't want to have another long distance relationship and I have to keep telling myself to back off before it goes down that road. Besides, even if there ever were a possibility for her to move out here or something, I doubt she'd find me appealing enough to do such a thing.
Anyway, none of that truly matters. I don't think that I'm stupid enough to fall for someone who lives more than a half an hour away anymore. That's not even counting the fact that I care about her as a friend and I'd hate to ruin that, but whatever. As of right now, I think it's time for me to at least attempt to get some sleep. Here's to hoping that the panic attacks don't strike for a third night in a row!
Steve out! Take care!