It was easier for me to continue to be dishonest, deceit had become an ingrained habit and because there was a grain of truth in the story or even once was true, it was more believable than an honest expression of what was.
I couldn’t exist comfortably in who I really was, I had to embellish my existence, then there was a split, the true definition of neurosis
It continued and the lies got more dramatic and I had to cover for the initial withholding, eventually it evolved into psychosis and none but divine intervention saved me.
