Salvor.Hardin
Banned
Does anyone else have this problem?
My story is kind of bizarre. On my 5th birthday, my second cousin (who was 15 years old at the time) touched me 'inappropriately'. My father caught us in the closet and he told me to go downstairs, eat my cake and not to tell anyone about the incident. That's the first time I can remember consciously lying to people around me.
As I grew older it became quite easy for me to get away with it and so I kept pushing my luck. I lied in debates, to my girl friend and just about anyone about anything around me. I was filling out my UCAS (common college application for universities in France, I grew up in Portugal) and fabricated all of my grades, knowing full well that my adviser was never going to sift through every application. I got offers from some really good universities and one really good scholarship. But I still sent each university an email stating that somehow my school fudged up my grades on my UCAS application and they weren't indicative of my true grades, written and implying as if my real grades were better without actually saying so. The offers stood and I went to university.
At university the problem became worse. My family didn't have a lot of money but I enjoyed projecting wealth. So I did. I would tell people around me about fake trips and activities like my sailing skills, my chateau in the south of France and fencing. I joined each club just to get a picture taken of me taking part in various activities so that I could upload them on facebook to legitimize my tales. But of course I never had any money to do this stuff regularly. Or even to hang out with people too often. I spent my first two years of university on the internet.
By third year I had convinced the university to send me on a year abroad to Spain with a further scholarship and a grant. I wanted to join a prestigious debating society there and my real background was not going to cut it. So I decided to fabricate one of the French accents for the entire year. It was horrible, but so fantastical that everyone there believed me. My story would soon morph into a tale about my grandfather being involved with various intelligence agencies back in the day and that my father was a real estate mogul. I would find random houses on google map and tell my friends that I owned them. I also took a large loan to buy the right clothes to fit in and socialize and so I was accepted into the society and various parties that would otherwise look down on a poor Portuguese student.
Eventually I had to come back and complete my degree in France. I had little money, I was struggling to pay off my debt and I had no friends back here at university. I tried working on my dissertation but I couldn't concentrate. I could hardly eat. Then sometime in November a girl from Portugal that I was in love with since 2007 called me after a very long time. I don't know what I was thinking. I was tired of lying so I told her that I was in love with her. And surprisingly she reciprocated. Several weeks following the conversation I didn't hear back from her. Eventually, I got fed up and asked a mutual friend what he knew. He had her email password for whatever reason and showed me an exchange of messages she had with her cousin. She referred to me as "a guy she knew a long time ago" and she also had a crush on another guy at college. This compounded with my depression, lack of friends and lack of money drove me to email her about the messages (I told her some one random emailed me the messages). She wrote a long email about how she did love me but that I left and I'm too far away so it's pointless and that she didn't have the guts to tell me earlier. She hasn't kept in touch much since then.
I started having unhealthy thoughts and I had planned out my own suicide. I wasn't depressed so much anymore as I was bored. I had nothing to look forward to. All my job applications were rejected. I had no friends and would spend weeks in my own room. So instead I decided I would create something to look forward to. I plagiarized my entire final year dissertation so I could get caught and have my senate hearing. It was better than nothing. I was sitting comfortably on a 2:1 (3.7 gpa) and two weeks before my graduation I was told that I had to attend a senate hearing on plagiarism. Fantastic. I thought it would be a great opportunity to talk about my depression. My bouts with suicide. My lack of money. My lies. And they would slap me on the wrist, give me my 2:1 and let me graduate.
I was mistaken. They failed me on my dissertation and have ruled that I won't be allowed to resubmit it. Depression hit me again and I decided to do stuff to get my mind off things. So I raised some money for a cancer charity and I started working at a warehouse on minimum wage. Here, I'm helping an Eritrean Asylum seeker with his university applications as well.
But things aren't so bad. Somehow I've gotten an interview with one of the top consultancy firms in London. I'm also appealing the dissertation decision. I don't know where this story ends, and I don't know what kind of help I need. I haven't lied recently but I don't know how long that's going to last for. Anyway I thought it was a story worth sharing.
My story is kind of bizarre. On my 5th birthday, my second cousin (who was 15 years old at the time) touched me 'inappropriately'. My father caught us in the closet and he told me to go downstairs, eat my cake and not to tell anyone about the incident. That's the first time I can remember consciously lying to people around me.
As I grew older it became quite easy for me to get away with it and so I kept pushing my luck. I lied in debates, to my girl friend and just about anyone about anything around me. I was filling out my UCAS (common college application for universities in France, I grew up in Portugal) and fabricated all of my grades, knowing full well that my adviser was never going to sift through every application. I got offers from some really good universities and one really good scholarship. But I still sent each university an email stating that somehow my school fudged up my grades on my UCAS application and they weren't indicative of my true grades, written and implying as if my real grades were better without actually saying so. The offers stood and I went to university.
At university the problem became worse. My family didn't have a lot of money but I enjoyed projecting wealth. So I did. I would tell people around me about fake trips and activities like my sailing skills, my chateau in the south of France and fencing. I joined each club just to get a picture taken of me taking part in various activities so that I could upload them on facebook to legitimize my tales. But of course I never had any money to do this stuff regularly. Or even to hang out with people too often. I spent my first two years of university on the internet.
By third year I had convinced the university to send me on a year abroad to Spain with a further scholarship and a grant. I wanted to join a prestigious debating society there and my real background was not going to cut it. So I decided to fabricate one of the French accents for the entire year. It was horrible, but so fantastical that everyone there believed me. My story would soon morph into a tale about my grandfather being involved with various intelligence agencies back in the day and that my father was a real estate mogul. I would find random houses on google map and tell my friends that I owned them. I also took a large loan to buy the right clothes to fit in and socialize and so I was accepted into the society and various parties that would otherwise look down on a poor Portuguese student.
Eventually I had to come back and complete my degree in France. I had little money, I was struggling to pay off my debt and I had no friends back here at university. I tried working on my dissertation but I couldn't concentrate. I could hardly eat. Then sometime in November a girl from Portugal that I was in love with since 2007 called me after a very long time. I don't know what I was thinking. I was tired of lying so I told her that I was in love with her. And surprisingly she reciprocated. Several weeks following the conversation I didn't hear back from her. Eventually, I got fed up and asked a mutual friend what he knew. He had her email password for whatever reason and showed me an exchange of messages she had with her cousin. She referred to me as "a guy she knew a long time ago" and she also had a crush on another guy at college. This compounded with my depression, lack of friends and lack of money drove me to email her about the messages (I told her some one random emailed me the messages). She wrote a long email about how she did love me but that I left and I'm too far away so it's pointless and that she didn't have the guts to tell me earlier. She hasn't kept in touch much since then.
I started having unhealthy thoughts and I had planned out my own suicide. I wasn't depressed so much anymore as I was bored. I had nothing to look forward to. All my job applications were rejected. I had no friends and would spend weeks in my own room. So instead I decided I would create something to look forward to. I plagiarized my entire final year dissertation so I could get caught and have my senate hearing. It was better than nothing. I was sitting comfortably on a 2:1 (3.7 gpa) and two weeks before my graduation I was told that I had to attend a senate hearing on plagiarism. Fantastic. I thought it would be a great opportunity to talk about my depression. My bouts with suicide. My lack of money. My lies. And they would slap me on the wrist, give me my 2:1 and let me graduate.
I was mistaken. They failed me on my dissertation and have ruled that I won't be allowed to resubmit it. Depression hit me again and I decided to do stuff to get my mind off things. So I raised some money for a cancer charity and I started working at a warehouse on minimum wage. Here, I'm helping an Eritrean Asylum seeker with his university applications as well.
But things aren't so bad. Somehow I've gotten an interview with one of the top consultancy firms in London. I'm also appealing the dissertation decision. I don't know where this story ends, and I don't know what kind of help I need. I haven't lied recently but I don't know how long that's going to last for. Anyway I thought it was a story worth sharing.
