Ok, so I know I probably posted this in a different forum but I feel I need to post about this again because I think I'm beginning to go into a depression over how much lying I have done in my life.
This is my brief lying history:
It started in high school: I lied about going to parties and about all the boys I was dating/had slept with. I was terrified to talk to my crush and made a fake social media account and befriended my crush behind this fake identity. Also, out of boredom, I probably made a total of 5 fake social media accounts that I would later delete. I told people I had a friend who died in a car crash. I was afraid of losing my virginity for real, so I told a boy I had ovarian cancer and that it hurt when I had sex, so that he would stop asking.
In college: I finally experienced guilt for all the lying I did in high school, and developed OCD and severe anxiety. I vowed I would change. I stopped telling "big" lies about myself but I found myself exaggerating alot. Whenever I would tell stories, I would embellish them slightly- nothing that mattered, but it was still exaggeration nonetheless.
Now: I recently suffered from a nervous breakdown and found out I had something called POTS, something I'd probably had forever and just always attributed it to "anxiety". It's probably very minor for me but anxiety made it much worse and I ended up dropping out of school and quitting work. I never wanted to get out of responsibilities or anything like that. Once I was home, I became (even more) nervous and developed severe agoraphobia. I was afraid to go anywhere because I thought my POTS symptoms would act up there- even though the "POTS symptoms" were heavily influenced by anxiety. Whenever my parents would ask me to go out and do anything, I would exaggerate POTS and fake sicker than I was. I eventually moved back in with my boyfriend and am experiencing the same agoraphobia, and I lie about my symptoms almost every time he asks me to leave the house. I also feel like sometimes I exaggerate them because anxiety makes me so miserable and I like the attention, but I'm not sure if I ACTUALLY do that, or if it's just OCD telling me that I am.
Either way, that's my problem and I feel so guilty and terrified I am a horrible person. I feel terrified of leaving the house, and stupid for my fears and for my lying.