Being alone wasn't easy. It didn't come naturally even though I was pretty much left out for most of my early years. I yearned to fit in because it felt awkward sitting alone during lunch in a crowded canteen. It felt painful to always be the last person without group mate(s) during activities. It felt like nobody (parents included) paid much attention to me. Parents do not ask "How are you doing?" instead they ask "How are your grades?" And the teasing... Don't even get me started.
I used to create stories in my head. Scenarios. Things that didn't actually happen but I wished they did just so I could have a cool story to tell. Just so someone would find me interesting (and maybe attention worthy) for once.
This happened so often it became a habit.
At school, something would happen... maybe a classmate of mine shouted at the teacher. Now that's a story to tell. But what if that doesn't produce a reaction with the 'audience'? I am gonna say that my classmate shouted at the teacher and gave the teacher a punch! Hah. I might also give a ridiculous background story of my classmate. That will make my story interesting. After all, the people who I am going to tell my story to aren't in anyway related to my classmates so there would be no one to expose my lie.
It started with parents, then tutors, then friends and close friends.
This escalated pretty badly. The stories were interesting and I managed to capture the attention I wanted. However, I felt uncomfortable telling things as they were. I couldn't. I was afraid if I don't spice something up no one would listen. It came to a point where I couldn't even be honest with my counsellor and the things that happened during my counselling sessions.
I didn't see it as a problem back then. I felt that I could very well keep track of the lies I have told, as long as the group of people that I lied to do not meet up with the group of people that I lied about I would be fine.
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