Growing up, my father was mentally ill. One of the things that effected me profoundly from this, was his constant and mutable lies. It tortured my mother and I swore I would never lie again when I got older.
Recently I made friends with a group of people. I found out that they don't exist - they are a fantasy creation of a young woman who is addicted to lies. There are terms for that - pathological liar, mythomaniacs.
I thought that due to my exposure to the lies of my father that I would be more able to know when I was lied to now - I was wrong. I let some of my protections, my armor I worked on in counseling slip. I am gathering it back around me. I do not wish to be the victim of that kind of insanity again.
The world is a messed up place as it is. I have enough to handle. I do not need to be the victim of someone's lies. It is abuse I do not need.