We tell ourselves stories all the time in life. Some we tell to help us remember things. Some we tell to give more context. Others we tell to frame them in our context rather than the context in which we had been given, because of something incorrect, additional, maybe more meaningful, that we can bring to the context told to us. Others, still, we tell to ourselves to reframe the narrative to the way we want or need it to be. Sometimes that is to help us to find hope in the darkest of circumstances. Other times, it is to make a highlight in our lives even brighter. Other times, still, it will justify dark circumstances we created, whether we or others deemed it so.
There are many other reasons why we tell ourselves stories. For the extreme cases, the stories we tell ourselves are incredible in each their own way. They have to be, to rationalize extreme situations that are challenging to comprehend. That may make those stories eye opening, far-fetched, ridiculous, shocking, inspirational, whatever. However, because they mean so much to us in giving us the definitive meaning of the most extreme events in our lives, to us, those stories that we tell ourselves of our most extreme moments will be the best, and worst, stories we each know.