Dripping Life

As children, our parents let us know – early on – that telling the truth was much less painful than lying. After a few incidents that let me know the punishment to expect when lying occurred, I finally got the picture. (Sometimes I’m a bit remedial). But I do know this style of parenting made me sensitive about broken promises which, in some cases, turned out to be simply lies.

Today, our contentious political ideologies are, at best, confusing and, at worst, frustrating. Much of what we read and hear are lies – or at least fabrications from spin-rooms -- so much so, that discerning truth from lies has become a cottage industry among political pundits. But for my friend, Della, who is 65, life is much more challenging because she is married to a pathological liar. Determining the real from the made up has become her daily routine.

According to Dr. Christian Jarrett, a neuroscience writer, most pathological liars are not psychopaths, nor do they necessarily have a personality disorder. Indeed, pathological liars often lie for no apparent purpose. Another key feature of pathological lying is that the lies are often particularly bizarre or far-fetched.

When we first met Della’s husband Larry, socially, he told us his basketball career after college was cut short by his knee injury while he played for the NBA. He said he was hurt when he collided with Magic Johnson. We didn’t ask him what team had drafted him.

He also told us, unsolicited, he had nursed his first wife through a fatal illness. His adventures on the professional rodeo circuit came next, and, in addition, he said he had served in Vietnam and an older brother was killed during that war, recalling how he would get home from school, only to find his bereaved mother, sitting in his brother’s room, rocking in a rocking chair for hours as she gazed out of the window.

A few days later, when I met Della for coffee, I commented about Larry’s difficult-but-adventurous life and shared what he had told us. She nodded and looked down, embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry that happened, but none of what he told you is true,” she confided. “He never played in the NBA, and in college, was only good enough to play intramural basketball. His uncle was a bull rider at small-town rodeos on weekends and his poor, dead first wife is alive, well and living in Arizona. About the only thing he’s ever nursed was his shattered ego when she divorced him for serial adultery. He never had an older brother and the closest he got to ‘Nam was the physical that disqualified him from going into the service.”

I could tell Della was devastated to have to refute her husband’s lies…all unnecessary, particularly upon first meeting him socially.

So why do people like Larry -- successful in his field, with a wonderful wife and a beautiful, blended family -- feel they have to lie?

Researchers Dr. Drew Curtis and Dr. Christian Hart believe pathological lying should become a discrete psychiatric diagnosis. In one study they asked hundreds of volunteers to complete several measures of lying behavior. In analyzing the results, they found between 8 percent and 13 percent of their subjects met the criteria for being a pathological liar.

Their findings fit in with theories already in scientific literature, suggesting pathological liars tell tall-tales – especially of far-fetched past achievements or suffering, or grandiose social connections – as a kind of unconscious strategy to boost their fragile sense of self or low self-esteem.

In a case reported in 2015, a woman told her therapists she had made several suicide attempts. She also claimed her mother had been executed in California for killing her father and stepfather, that her brother and sister had been killed and buried in the backyard by her mother, and that she had two children, including one who was the product of a rape by one of her siblings.

S u b s e q u e n t investigations suggested none of this was true, except that she did have one son. Her physicians said their patient’s compulsive lying was a “means to assert autonomy in the face of lack of self-esteem.”

So, what the experts told Della about dealing with Larry’s lying?

“The therapists I saw told me to remember the likely cause of his tendency to tell so many far-fetched stories. While these tall tales might be irritating, if it’s driven by deep-seated insecurity, see it as a call for help,” she said, tears sliding down her cheeks. “And they said to resist the urge to confront him too forcefully or without sympathy.”

My friend dabbed her eyes, needlessly apologized and continued. “They also said if the person you care about is a pathological liar, perhaps you could help them find more productive ways to address their low selfesteem and anxiety, or even help them come to terms with a difficult past, if that’s relevant.

“But here’s the surprising part,” she said, her voice gradually sounding stronger. “Although research into various possible treatments is largely lacking (partly because ‘pathological liar’ has yet to be recognized as a formal diagnosis), a sensible step could be to gently encourage Larry or any other pathological liar you know to seek professional mental health support.”

A Happy Ending: Della and Larry consulted a psychiatrist and began therapy, individually and as a couple. After that, they attended – and continue to meet with -- a support group for patients and their significant others. Della was absolutely radiant as she told me about her journey recently. “I feel I am living with the real Larry,” she said, “and it’s been so exciting to see him become more comfortable in his own skin. We’ve made it through the most difficult part, and from now on, we’ll check in with the therapist as a kind of maintenance.”