“When it comes to truth or lies, there is no contest. I know the truth. He knows the truth. Everyone does. So how long can he keep up the lies, especially as life draws to a close?”
It’s a haunting question—one that many survivors of abuse wrestle with. When an abuser nears the end of life, either due to age, illness, or circumstances beyond their control, it often stirs a final wave of manipulation, denial, or delusion. But while their lies may remain stubborn on the surface, beneath them, something deeper is at play—something the mind and body cannot fully conceal.
Let’s explore what science says about the limits of lying, the impact of truth on the brain, and the legacy of unresolved deception—especially when life is slipping through the fingers of someone who has built a house of cards on manipulation and denial.
🧬 The Brain Under the Weight of Lies
From a neuroscientific point of view, lying is far more taxing on the brain than telling the truth. Every time a lie is told, the brain engages in a complex balancing act. It activates the prefrontal cortex, the region responsible for executive functioning, self-control, and moral reasoning. The liar must suppress the truth, construct a believable alternative, and monitor the listener’s reaction—all at once.
Over time, chronic lying—especially when it is used to manipulate others—alters the brain. Research shows that with repeated lies, the amygdala (the brain’s emotional processing center) becomes desensitized. What once triggered guilt, fear, or empathy becomes dull. In other words, pathological liars stop feeling bad about lying. They lie more easily, more often, and with less emotional disruption.
But here’s the paradox: while the liar’s brain adapts, the body still keeps the score. As Bessel van der Kolk says, trauma—even the trauma of being the perpetrator—leaves imprints in the body. Near the end of life, when control fades, when the noise dies down, and when mortality stares them in the face, many abusers begin to unravel, not from external exposure, but from internal collapse.
🧠Psychological Dissonance: The Battle Between Truth and Self-Deception
Psychologically, abusers often construct elaborate self-narratives to protect themselves from shame, guilt, or accountability. They tell themselves (and others): “She was overreacting.” “I was just under pressure.” “It wasn’t that bad.” These narratives serve to reduce cognitive dissonance—the mental discomfort that arises when one’s actions contradict one’s self-image.
However, this dissonance grows louder as reality becomes harder to deny. As health declines or death approaches, the mind is forced to reckon with previously buried truths. The suppression systems—the lies, the excuses, the emotional compartmentalizing—begin to falter. Many abusers may double down on denial, desperately trying to preserve the illusion of innocence, especially if their identity is intertwined with external status, power, or money.
They may still lie to others, but often, deep down, they know. They feel the cracks forming.
⌛ So How Long Can They Keep It Up?
The truth, Linda, is that they can lie right until the end—but the cost is immense.
They may leave behind money, property, or possessions—but the real legacy is emotional. They are remembered as someone who harmed, then denied. Someone who never made amends. Someone who carried their deception to the grave rather than facing the truth.
From a neurological perspective, the brain degrades under chronic stress, unresolved guilt, and inner conflict. It affects sleep, cognition, immune function, and emotional regulation. This is why many lifelong manipulators become paranoid, irrational, or even delusional in their final years. The very lies that once gave them control become their prison.
🧬 Truth as a Legacy: For the Survivor, Not the Abuser
You have truth on your side. That’s something the nervous system understands deeply.
Neuroscience has shown that truth is calming to the brain. When we stop suppressing or contorting reality, the prefrontal cortex (responsible for meaning-making and clarity) becomes more active, and the amygdala’s fear response lowers. This is why trauma survivors who begin telling their story often feel both vulnerable and profoundly relieved. The body no longer has to carry the confusion of gaslighting or betrayal.
And your truth isn’t just in your mind—it’s in the testimonies, the records, the support of friends, family, and even professionals. You are not alone, and neither is your truth.
In contrast, the abuser’s legacy is often hollow. If they pass without ever taking responsibility, they may have kept their version intact to the end—but their silence becomes an admission. Their refusal to acknowledge wrongdoing becomes a stain, not a shield.
đź’” What Legacy Do They Leave?
If they die clinging to the lie, they leave behind:
- A family divided or traumatized
- A partner or ex-partners who carry the burden of truth
- Children and grandchildren left with questions
- A story of cowardice, not redemption
But if the survivor—you—lives in alignment with the truth, you become the legacy. Not just for what you endured, but for how you rose. How you told the truth when it hurt. How you stood your ground when they tried to distort reality. And how you chose healing over hatred.
🦋 Final Thoughts: The Nervous System Doesn’t Lie
At the end of life, even if words deceive, the nervous system doesn’t lie. The trembling hands, the sleepless nights, the panic behind closed doors—these are all signs that even the most practiced liar cannot fully escape their own mind and body.
So the question isn’t how long they can keep it up. The question is: what happens when the lies no longer serve them? When they’re left with no one to convince but themselves?
For you, the work is already done. You know the truth. You’ve lived it, felt it, and survived it. Now, you’re building something they could never fake: a life grounded in clarity, community, courage—and truth.
