One of the foundations of my upbringing was honesty. In the end, your word and name are all you have I was told. ” don’t drag your good name through the grease and mud of misdeeds.” It was from this framework that I imagined what the power of lying can have over a person. Old adages like “what horrible webs we weave” helped frame my idea of what truth really was. And as I got older I began to see the true power and even allure of deception. But I never gave into those urges. Mania robbed me of my will for truth. And deception latched it’s claws into me, becoming a coping mechanism for my manic hangover. I would lie to my wife or anyone to avoid facing the horribly impulsive mistakes I’d made while caught in a cloud of mania. More importantly, I started lying to myself and justifying my deceit under the guise of forgiving and forgetting. But memory is a funny thing; and mine is more surreal than I imagine most others to be. Perhaps it’s tied in with the emotional aspects of BPD. Evolutionary psychiatry suggests that all these symptoms serve some purpose, we just aren’t exactly sure what. But, since the onset of my symptoms, my memory and how it works have drastically changed. I see my life and my previous actions in my mind like a VR movie. I see the details and colors of that memory but I also feel everything I felt in that moment or memory. It is a meta-nightmare that is often hard to avoid.
Mania lies to us in other ways people don’t think about. The most common lies come under the guise of confidence or inspiration. I find much of my inspiration springs from my obsession with collecting. Not just the collection of material things, but the collection of knowledge as well. I’ll suddenly have to read all the books in a series, which consequently becomes, “I must buy them.”
Perhaps the worst way mania lies is in the way it instills a dangerous false confidence. This ensnares you into numerous projects, hobbyhorse, etc.