Black Lies
Webster’s English Dictionary defines the word ‘lie’ as follows:
A falsehood uttered or acted for the purpose of deception; an intentional violation of truth; an untruth spoken with the intention to deceive.
On the outside, I have it pretty good. My parents love me and they love each other. My brother and I get along really well. I have a lot of friends. On the outside, I lie to everyone when I smile through my teeth and tell them the things they want to hear. I lie when I say I’m okay, but don’t worry; they’re just little lies, white lies. They won’t hurt anyone, but me… because eventually, little white lies combine and add up until all you have are the big lies; the bad lies; the black lies. Black lies are like the big secrets that you have to tell someone, but that you can’t tell anyone. Guess what, I have a black lie. Oh, I won’t tell you what it is, oh no, instead, I am going to tell you the little white lies that added up.
You know the girl who sits by herself at lunch? The one whose cousin is in the loony bin because she tried to kill herself? The one who’s really smart, but not smart enough to sit with the ‘brains’? The one who’s different. Odd. Needs everything to be just so. That was me. Until I found a release. This release had consequences, I knew that. I just didn’t know how big they truly were. Let’s go back a few years… back to sixth grade.
Letter to my friend:
Dear friend,
I was scared when I realized what I had done. I ran in fear and disbelief to your house. I sobbed as I explained what I did.
“Please don’t tell anyone.” I beg. You swear you won’t, but by the end of the day you crack. You got too scared. You tell your mom, who in turn tells mine. You don’t remember this day and neither does my mom, but I do. The next time it happened, I was smart. I didn’t run to you. I didn’t run to anyone. I sat in my room and cried, ashamed but strangely bemused by what I was becoming. I got caught in a downward spiral. The more I did it, the more guilt that bundled inside me. The guiltier I felt, the more I did it.
White lie number one: I’m okay.
You thought I stopped 3 years ago. Back when this battle between me and myself first began. You thought wrong. This war still rages inside of me. I win small battles, but in the long run, this monster that I have become is eating me alive. I still need help; it’s just that I don’t know how to ask. I pick my battles carefully, choosing the ones I know I’ll win. They are hard to come by nowadays.
White lie number two: I stopped before I started.
There were many more white lies, dishonesties and half-truths that added up, but in the end, they all came back to haunt.
As you go through everyday life, you notice the kids who are different, who have little ‘quirks’. They start the year laughing then recede into their shell. The ones so careful to hide their true self under layers of clothing and hundreds of masks. So quick deflect questions that might uncover the mystery of the hidden wounds.
There are many lies told in day to day life, but whether they are white lies, black lies, or half-lies, the biggest lies of all are the ones you tell yourself.