It’s a basic truth of the human condition that everybody lies. The only variable is about what. — Hugh Laurie

Truth be told, we all lie sometimes. Ninety percent of our deceptions are white lies told to protect ourselves, to avoid getting into trouble, and to spare someone else’s feelings. For the most part, the lies we tell are motivated by an external reason. They are typically defensive to avoid the consequences of truth-telling — “I swear I have no idea what happened to that plate of cookies.” They may be tactical — “I never received your email” or altruistic — “You look great in that dress.”

Lying may be an integral part of our daily lives but there is a big difference between “normal” lying and pathological lying, also known as Pseudologia Fantastica. The term Pseudologia Fantastica (PF) was first coined by the German physician, Anton Delbrueck, in 1891 to describe the phenomenology of a group of patients who told lies that were obviously extreme and fantastical with a clear departure from reality to the observer, yet perceived by the patients themselves as within the realm of possibility. People with PF lie about everything constantly, eloquently, excessively, and chronically.

These individuals “indulge in a veritable orgy of lying” to serve an ego-driven internally motivated longing for how they wish the world would be and would see them. For instance, if your neighbor has a dilapidated but cherished old car and asks your opinion about it, you might stretch the truth and say something along the lines of “I think your car is fabulous.” Someone with PF would respond, “I have ten vintage-sports cars, all in top condition, at my large, private estate in Monaco.” The person with PF lies to self-aggrandize, not to flatter the neighbor. Moreover, unlike cons who lie for external gain or profit, people with PF tell lies that go about and beyond what would be necessary to pull off a successful swindle. They are out of proportion to any obvious external reward. The lies they tell are “almost always dazzling or fantastical,” and easily roll off their tongue. Sometimes they lie “just because.” Lying is inherently gratifying for them. These are the people who lie about what they ate for lunch.

While there is no current gold-standard definition of Pseudologia Fantastica, several key characteristics have been identified:

1. Chronic lying/storytelling that is unrelated to or out of proportion to any clear objective benefit;
2. Qualitatively the stories are dramatic, detailed, complicated, colorful, and fantastic;
3. The stories typically feature the pseudologue as the hero or victim and seem geared to achieve acceptance, admiration, and sympathy;
4. In terms of insight, the pseudologue lies somewhere long a spectrum between conscious deceit and delusion, not always conscious of his motives and seeming at least intermittently to believe his stories yet never to reach the level of conviction that would indicate a loss of reality-testing.

Most people are mortified and ashamed when their lies are exposed but not those with PF. When confronted with their deception, people with PF are typically unphased. They don’t break out in hives or lose sleep or sweat. Rather, they double down, sometimes providing further elaborate details to explain the lies. That said, in the face of incontrovertible evidence, they will — reluctantly —relinquish their tall tales. This stands in contrast to people with a delusional disorder who cling to their fixed false belief no matter what. PF often overlaps with borderline, antisocial, and narcissistic personality disorder but not always. Sometimes they are stand alone liars.

There is no cure for Pseudologia Fantastica.

Confronting the person with their deceptions will likely backfire. As tempting as it is to take a prosecutorial approach and attempt to extract a mea culpa from the individual, save your breath. Exposure and questioning tends to stimulate further fabrication and evasion. In a clinical setting, there is evidence that showing disinterest in the tales but maintaining interest in the person may help reduce the motivation to lie. While there is no guarantee of successful treatment, I think we can all agree that these people belong in a therapist’s office and not in political office.

“Friendship isn’t a big thing — it’s a million little things.” Paulo Coelho.

Mounting evidence shows that tending to our friendships matters as much to our health as going to bed early and eating well. Want to be healthier? Hang out with your friends reads a recent headline in the Washington Post. In their best-selling book, The Good Life: Lessons From the World’s Longest Scientific Study of Happiness,” Drs. Bob Waldinger and Marc Schulz explain why “social fitness” is as valuable as physical and mental fitness. Ancient wisdom has been right all along — a good life is built with good friendships.

There is no doubt that having a close circle of friends promotes happiness but that doesn’t mean you should only hang out with your “peeps.” A study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences makes the case for expanding our social circles. Spending time with close friends and family is great but the results suggest we should also make time for strangers, colleagues, and acquaintances. Diversifying what the researchers call our social portfolio has added health benefits. The more diverse our social portfolio, the happier we are and the higher our wellbeing.

When we are with our nearest and dearest, we tend to be on cruise control. When we are in the company of people we don’t know very well, we inhabit different roles and our sense of self expands — we make more of an effort, we ask more questions, and conversations cover a variety of topics.

As Michael Norton, one of the authors of the study observed, “we try different things with new people, and that can be good for us.” We need an entire community to feel whole. Being around different people brings out different sides of our own identity.

Branch Out

If you tend to log the majority of your time with the same people, consider mixing it up. As Norton suggests, “If you spend 12 straight hours with your spouse, maybe adding the thirteenth hour isn’t as good for you as using that hour for a new relationship with a different person.” As cozy and easy as it is to be with your one and only, make time for other adults in your life too. According to a survey, parents are spending twice as much time with their children compared to previous generations, crowding out other types of friendships and potential connections. Plus, our social networks shifted dramatically during the pandemic. Many got closer to their inner circle but those at the periphery fell away. We lost both acquaintances and friends. Incipient friendships fell by the wayside. At the same time, losses of social ties have hardly been compensated by gaining new ties.

Bottom Line: Make an effort with your friends. Also make an effort with potential new friends.

“There were many terrible things in my life and most of them never happened.” — Michael Montaigne

Here is why it’s bad for you: Negative Spiraling

When we catastrophize, we fixate on the worst possible outcome and treat it as likely, even when it is not. Overestimating the probability of a negative situation fuels irrational worry and turns a minor setback into a definitive dead-end. The result is hopelessness, frustration, and avoidance. The ultimate result of catastrophizing is missing out on opportunities and experiences that bring us joy and meaning.

Here is what you can do about it: Find Middle Ground

To counteract this doomsday mindset, Martin Seligman, the founder of Positive Psychology, suggests a simple exercise called “Put it in Perspective.” As soon as negative spiraling kicks in:

Step 1: Play out the worst-case scenario

Step 2: Play out the best-case scenario

Step 3: Consider what’s most likely to happen

Between the two extremes, you’re more likely to find the most realistic outcome.

As this exercise helps us understand, it is not the incident itself but the negative interpretation of the incident that leads to catastrophic thinking and the subsequent snowballing of negative emotions. The key is to un-twist these cognitive distortions and recognize that the mountain we face may in fact be a molehill or at least more of a Mount Pleasant than Mount Everest.

This isn’t toxic positivity. It’s deliberate optimism.

“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” Joan Didion

We are story-telling creatures. They help us make sense of the world and our place in it. The story we tell about ourselves—our narrative identity—is especially powerful. In fact, there is evidence that it shapes our wellbeing and deeply impacts our mental health. As a recent article by David Robson in New Scientist points out:

“The narratives we tell about our lives can powerfully shape our resilience to stress. People who generate tales of struggle and redemption from their own lives appear to have much better mental health. You could describe this as the flawed hero effect.”

People who recognize their triumphs and challenges and who are able to weave them into a coherent detailed narrative tend to have a stronger sense of identity and report greater meaning, life satisfaction, and purpose than those who are vague disjointed storytellers.

According to psychologist Dan McAdams of Northwestern University, two narrative themes emerge as key predictors of mental health:

1. Agency: When we tell our story, we describe having some control over past events and recognize our role in shaping the outcome.
2. Redemption: When we recount challenging times, we are able to find some kind of positive meaning or personal growth.

There is evidence that people can be taught to tell better stories about themselves and to incorporate these two themes into their life narrative. In a study, one group was asked to give a factual description of a house they once lived in, another group was asked to express their deepest thoughts and feelings, and a third group was asked to write a detailed description of an event and to paint a picture for the reader of how it unfolded. One month later, the latter group—the storytellers—reported greater mental health gains and lower levels of perceived stress.

Related research from Northwestern University shows how writing a personal narrative that emphasizes competence boosts persistence. High school students were asked to write about a time they failed and a time they succeeded. Half of them were given extra instructions to describe the way they had made their success a reality (encouraging reflection on agency) and how the failure had changed them for the better (encouraging reflection on redemption). Eight weeks later, members of this group reported greater persistence in their schoolwork and had better grades.

As I read these studies, I couldn’t help but think about how we are telling the story of COVID-19. Are we promoting narratives that emphasize trauma or growth? Recognizing what we have learned alongside how much we have lost is worthwhile. Focusing exclusively on damage locks us in the past and all too often dooms the future. Without being Pollyanna-ish about hard times, it is possible to gain strength and insight from them.

How we think, talk, and write about major events in our lives has important implications. To quote John Cunningham, “we become the stories we tell ourselves.” We also become the stories our parents tell us.

There is evidence that children who know a great deal about their family history have a stronger sense of control over their lives and have higher self-worth. Seeing themselves as a part of a chapter in a larger family history and understanding the ups and downs of the family narrative generates confidence and keeps challenges in perspective.

As Bruce Feiler wrote in The New York Times, “If you want a happier family, create, refine and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and your ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.” Whether reflecting on your own or talking to your children, recognize the role you played in your success and how you have learned from your challenges. No need to be the hero. Being a flawed hero is good enough.

Bottom Line: Shifting the way you think, talk, and write about major life events can influence your life moving forward.

So the Word of the Year is goblin mode. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the selection is “a word or expression reflecting the ethos, mood, or preoccupations of the past twelve months, one that has potential as a term of lasting cultural significance.” Yikes. Lasting cultural significance. Goblin mode is here to stay.

Goblin mode is defined as “a type of behavior which is unapologetically self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy, typically in a way that rejects social norms or expectations.” Here is how to use it in a sentence (and in life):

“Goblin mode is like when you wake up at 2am and shuffle into the kitchen wearing nothing but a long T-shirt to make a weird snack, like melted cheese on saltines. It’s about a complete lack of aesthetic. Because why would a goblin care what they look like? Why would a goblin care about presentation?”

— Kari Paul, The Guardian

In a nutshell, goblin mode is letting it all hang out. It’s the opposite of immaculate self-presentation, perfectionism, and self-improvement. In many ways, goblin mode is exactly what we all need sometimes. While “self-indulgent, lazy, slovenly, or greedy” may not be a state of being to aspire to, that is precisely the point. I think of goblin mode as the antidote for the exhausting and relentless messaging of the self-help industrial complex that is constantly telling us that we are not good enough. “Ugly coping” — a close friend of goblin mode — may not boost your productivity but it may be the boost you need.

According to Twitter, when people say “goblin mode” this is what they mean:

This cat is so unhinged but living his best liiiiifeeee??!!! pic.twitter.com/6Ij2zNlTjq

— Sam – (🤓) – Dalorian (@samiswhoiam) February 19, 2022

Sometimes it’s okay to embrace our inner feral cat. Rather than something to be avoided, lean into goblin mode when necessary. Think of it as a superpower that can help recharge and revitalize you. Remember, it’s a mode and not a permanent state. As explained in The Guardian, it’s not a fixed identity but a frame of mind.

I am not a huge fan of New Year’s resolutions but for those intent on making one, instead of making a radical change or setting an ambitious goal, consider making a few simple changes that enhance rather than punish:

• Spend more time with family and friends
• Mobilize your strengths and values
• Be kinder

Whatever you do, go easy on yourself if you’re having trouble sticking to it. Setbacks are part of the process. New Year’s isn’t the only time to initiate a change.

Bottom Line: If goblin mode is what you need on occasion, so be it. It may be just what the doctor ordered.

My parents used to have a pillow with the inscription, “All our guests bring happiness. Some by coming, others by going.” Benjamin Franklin put it more bluntly. “Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days,” he famously observed. Having people to stay can be a lot of fun. It can also be exhausting. Feeding and entertaining guests coupled with sharing space and disrupted routines takes a toll. Not getting enough rest is a major contributor to host and houseguest stress.

A survey of 2000 people found that both guests and hosts lose sleep. The researchers found that hosts lose as much as two and a half hours of sleep per night preparing for the arrival of their guests and guests tend to lose sleep too. Noise, sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, and trying to match their sleep schedule make it hard to get a good night’s sleep. Regardless of whether they are hosts or guests, more than a third of those surveyed said that the holidays are the most sleepless time of the year.

For anyone who is worried about overstaying their welcome, the survey found that almost 50 percent of people think that spending four days or more is too long. Alas, perhaps Benjamin Franklin was right with the fish metaphor. The good news is that most guests seem to abide by this unspoken rule. Seventy-nine percent say their guests stayed four nights or less.

For the record, I love having houseguests and am delighted when they spend more than four days. Maybe it’s because I only invite people who follow these three rules:

1. They do their own thing
2. They clean up after themselves
3. They recognize that my dogs are the real hosts