I am so beyond burned out that I have become a compulsive liar. Am I alone?
Hi to my fave subreddit! I don’t usually post, but I need some non-judgemental perspectives. This may be a bit long, but if you decide to read on, please bear with me. I promise I have a point. I am a divorced single mom of 2 pushing 40. I work full time at a job that I love and am so lucky to have. It’s 75% creative and I work 2 days from home. I also fully support my mom since she moved in with us after my dad died a few years ago. I was diagnosed at 36 after my divorce and have tried a few combinations of meds. Currently, I’m at Vyvanse, Wellbutrin, and Zoloft.
I am so done with everything. I have always had depression, but I feel it has become anhedonia. Basic tasks feel like climbing Mt. Everest, my social/masking battery gets drained faster and faster, I am constantly late, and I am putting things off so close to literally the last minute that it’s getting scary. Things I used to look forward to feel like chores, and I am worse than ever at texting back. Even my precious dog has been triggering my PDA more than usual. I feel genuine love and affection for my children (including my pup!) and I can find humor in anything. I think those are the 2 things that keep me going.
Anyway, in order to keep my relationships, my career, my reputation and my dignity I have found myself lying to such a crazy degree. Can’t join the zoom meeting because my internet is out, I was 15 minutes late because I got pulled over, I couldn’t wake myself up and the kids on time so I tell the school they had morning appts, I need a mental health day so I claim my dog ate chocolate and has to go to the vet, I can’t bring myself to show up to plans I made with friends: so I say I’m sick or at urgent care or my child has a fever. I drop the ball so much that lying has become second nature. I know it’s awful and I’m not proud. I make plans to try to be better, but after some progress I fall back into these habits.
I am so damn good at masking that I have created a pretty good life for myself. And I am deeply grateful. I don’t know if its perimenopause or what, but the wheels are falling off and the lies keep my life from falling apart. My daily dose of Vyvanse gives me about 3 hours of “the will to live” (lol) so I have to time it for whatever the top priority of the day is. Has anyone else struggled with this? Or am I alone? I guess I just needed to put this out there because it’s been weighing on me.
EDIT: spelling/grammar fixes