Confessions of a Compulsive Liar (Maddening Series: Book 2)

A/N: Here's the sequel to the unfinished Diary of a Schizophrenic. They kind of go hand in hand. Also, there is a website in the process dedicated to issues such as these so stay tuned!

Confession #1: I don’t lie, I just over exaggerate.

It’s not that I really lie. I just add tidbits to true stories that aren’t necessarily true (nor important) in order to spice up a story. I smile and laugh and nod, and they smile and laugh too, and it’s all good, and a few know I’m lying but they don’t care! Why do the little details matter? It’s the core of the story that’s most important.

People think I’m generally pretty funny when it comes to telling tales. Even I laugh at the absurdity of what I can come up with. Overall, I’m generally well-liked. I have great friends that have accepted me for who I am and am overall just a very happy person. All in all, I don’t really have to lie to keep up with everything and everyone. I just do because I’m bored.

And it spices up my life! It makes me believe that all these things really happened to me, and I live happily thinking I’m a better person. It makes life easier to go through.

Confession #2: I’m just kidding, I really do lie a lot.

I’m a compulsive liar. I can’t help it. Yeah, it spices up my life, but the reason I do it is because I hate who I am so I make up someone I’d rather be. That’s not so bad, right? Everyone has their insecurities, and they hide them better than others. I just bring attention to another feature of myself that might not be as real...

Living in the shadow of someone greater than you in every aspect is like living in a dark tunnel. You see a burning light at on end, so magnificent and great, but so far away that you know it will always be out of your reach. And on the other end, you see a flashlight. It illuminates the tunnel and you discover it’s who you are and you can be bright with this flashlight if you stick to it, even if you’ll never be as bright as that light.

That’s what it was like living with my sister. The mild, pretty, insanely smart one. She was great in more ways than one. The only thing she wasn’t any good at was when it came to sports, but hell, I sucked too. I had nothing to call my own, nothing that was insanely special about me in comparison to her.

It seemed like everyone liked her more than me. Her stories were always so funny... So I decided to make mine funny too. They were little tidbits at first, but they grew in something so much more. I became someone she could never be in all her perfection. I became a liar.

Confession #3: I don’t have a sister.