I am a crappy liar, I’m just one of those people that is not very good at it, and I kind of know just not to bother, because I’ll give the game away and it will come back to bite me. One of the good things my parents taught me was to just be honest and forthcoming about it when I screw up, that just admitting it makes the consequences far less; people will be much less annoyed at you, and that’s true on the whole, I think.
That said, I do differentiate between types of lies. I’ve come to notice this particularly with pocketcanadian, because when she asks me how I am, and I say ‘fine’, which is my way of coping a lot of the time (and something I think most people do), it can cause some pretty decent arguments between the two of us. When it comes to how I am doing and what’s going on for me, I guess I do lie, fairly regularly. And, I don’t really consider it lying, even though it absolutely is.
The other thing this brings to my mind is my eldest brother, who for a long time my parents questioned whether he was a pathological liar. He would lie about all sorts of things, little to very very big, and frequently. Some of them are so bad that even though I had nothing to do with these lies, that I feel so ashamed to just be related to somebody who has told those sorts of lies, that I have never been able to tell even my therapist about them, because what if she judges me just because we’re related.