Welcome to the weird and wonderful, confusing, sad, empty, full, blizzard of ______.
Shoplifting is a drug similar to those that are injected or ingested as it can become addictive. I know this far too well.....a decade ago, before individuals decided to execute the plan I created that involved the demise of my very put together mind that was then capable of anything, I never thought I would steal. At the age of 6 I stole sewing needles from a toy store because I wasn't allowed to use them yet and vowed never again.
I have now been arrested twice for taking items from stores that did not belong to me and for that I am greatly sorry. There are many reasons for my unusually negative and illegal activity, mental illness being at the top. When it felt as though everyone was taking all the life out of me by making my whole life into a fabricated lie that I couldn't comprehend, I became suicidal on a daily basis and found that taking in return allowed me to maintain some internal control. Addiction is a mental illness that usually sneaks up on you. I think I may be the only person I know who became addicted to a behavior partly on purpose. No one desires the suffering addiction brings and I strongly hope there is always help for those that become lost enough to fall into its trap.
The first time I stole (after age 6), I thought "people may be watching my every move on camera, documenting my fall from grace so I might as well give them somer life lessons on what not to do in order to avoid suffering and a criminal record, but also to shed light on at least one outcome of mental illness so there would be some sort of point to my confusing plan.
I remember party of my plan was to do certain things that would never hurt anyone but would make people not trust me and possibly despise me to further blow their minds with pure truth as done in my psychologists office and the night of June 24th, 2011. If people could be shown that their assumptions and judgements about a person were initially wrong, it could open minds, cease racism, homophobia etc. The endgame I believe was to do the impossible; attempt to change the world for the better. Input understanding and compassion into the minds of the stubbornly ignorant who possible never knew any better.
I promise stealing was the worst that I am capable of. I was desperate years after my first arrest for an ending to my suffering and some answers to my lost memories that I began to do it again, for the wave of sanity that came over me afterwards was similar to a drug high. At the same time I hoped to get caught so that it would be made public so I could have a chance to explain. I half expected people to end my deep hurt if I continued downwards. I thought surely eventually someone would want it to end and they would be kind enough to tell me the truth revolving around my plan instead of calling the police.