The Lies That Shatter: A Reflection on Deception

 

Lies come uninvited. They arrive relentlessly, one after another, filling a fragile cup I desperately want to break. I never asked for them, yet here they are, pouring into my life as though their presence is justified.

I trusted the giver once. That trust, so freely given, is now corroded by the realization that their words—every one of them—were crafted in falsehood. The mask slipped, revealing the deceit beneath. What once felt genuine has been exposed as nothing more than practiced fiction.

How effortlessly you wield them. How long have you honed this craft? Do you enjoy the discord they create, the way they echo like a discordant symphony in the ears of the unsuspecting? To me, their sound is unbearable, a piercing reminder of betrayal. I never sought them out; I never invited them into my space. Yet here they are, invading, upsetting, and refusing to leave.

These lies accumulate, crowding the corners of my life and suffocating my peace. I beg for their removal. Take them with you, all of them. My spirit rebels against their weight, even as they persist. When they fall, they shatter like glass on a hard floor. I won't gather their shards or risk the cuts they may inflict. If lies are your currency, find someone else to pay. I am bankrupt of patience.

You claim your intent was never to harm, yet lies destroy. Deceit tears down walls of trust and leaves the receiver vulnerable, exposed, and unsure of what is real. Nothing good grows in the soil of deception. Lies are corrosive; they erode the foundation of relationships, self-worth, and safety.

The first lie is the warning. When you catch it, trust your instincts and run. Don't wait for the avalanche. Protect your spirit because the damage they bring is indiscriminate. The only way to survive lies is to leave them—and their giver—behind. Trust yourself because nothing else will keep you whole.

                         From Pit to Purpose: Recovering After Emotional Setbacks Workbook