Adolescence

While I had been difficult as a child, the proverbial shit hit the fan when the horror-monal storm of adolescence hit me, so to speak.

Reckless Behavior

At thirteen, I huffed paint thinner for the first and only time so as to experience getting high. My maladjusted, unsupervised “friend” of 14 had to tell me to stop, although I understood, intellectually, what the “DANGER” symbols plastered all over the canister meant; I was not a stupid child. Had my acquaintance not shaken me out of my stupor, I would have likely died. Later that evening, I was confronted by my distressed mother, who smelled the pervasive odour of varnish remover throughout the house. As such, I resolved to experiment with “safer”, more discreet drugs in the future. I also performed many sexually inappropriate acts with this acquaintance while my mom was out working during the day.

Stealing

I stole frequently and was once caught and prosecuted, because I showed such extreme contempt toward the guard who apprehended me. I followed a court-ordered rehabilitation program, in which I discovered that I could steal up to a thousand dollars in merchandise without being convicted of a more serious felony. That is all I took away from the program.

Vandalism

I vandalized and destroyed the property of others, for the sheer thrill of it. I once broke into someone’s car and tore open their briefcase, emptying all of its contents into the street, ripping papers and laughing as I meandered along, alone at night. I certainly didn’t feel guilty about it.

Without Conscience

I cheated whenever I could, lied constantly, delighted in antagonizing authority figures, abused drugs and alcohol, was *very* promiscuous, and got into fights often, mostly to alleviate boredom. I once ran away, hooked up with a street punk, and refused to come home without him. When my mother declined to allow him to stay at our house, I crashed in a stranger’s apartment for the night- clearly a heroin addict. When I finally did amble home, my little misadventure having run its course, a detective was waiting for me at our kitchen table. I yelled, swore, and raged at him too. I was 14 and out of control. I had (and still have) a very bad temper. I never felt bad about the reprehensible things I said to that man.

I still remember very clearly a “revelation” that I had at the age of thirteen: I don’t HAVE to tell the truth about anything. I can lie, steal, cheat, manipulate people and manoeuvre circumstances to achieve my will. *I can do whatever the hell I want *. I discovered that I was able to shut off my shallow conscience like a faucet, and it was very liberating. This remains a source of temptation for me to this day.

High School and Juvenile Deliquency

By the age of 15, I did indeed do whatever I wanted.  My mother had lost any semblance of control over me, as I simply bullied her to get my way and refused to obey her at all. My father had moved out by that time. Our relationship had grown increasingly violent, as I would not permit anyone to be in authority over me. It was good that my mother kicked him out for cheating on her and abusing cocaine.

I was popular in high school because I had earned a reputation for being very smart but equally tough. I was daring, charismatic and impulsive, and I usually had a crowd of people surrounding me. I hung out with the druggies and delinquents and read philosophy books, mostly for show. None of these people were really my friends; I used them to bolster my reputation and to gain easy access to drugs and alcohol. I felt smugly superior to them all. They also provided me with ample stomping grounds in which to find willing victims to seduce and manipulate. I had become increasingly obsessed with seducing, manipulating, and obtaining power over others. Eventually, this led to a fascination with the occult.

Because I am fairly intelligent, I breezed through high school in spite of rarely attending class and deliberately antagonizing every teacher who had the misfortune of crossing my path. I drew a perverse delight in cruelly exposing their intellectual ineptness and lack of knowledge regarding the subjects they purported to teach. As a result, I had numerous suspensions and conflicts with the principal. I skipped class frequently. When I was present, I was frequently intoxicated. I was not kicked out because I managed to retain a passing grade point average, but also because I suspect my mother begged the administration not to expel me. I learned to forge my mother’s signature perfectly and did so often. I felt absolutely no remorse over my conduct. Over the course of my adolescence, I was put on drug watch, suicide watch (utterly ridiculous, for I was never at risk of committing suicide) and every other kind of watch they could muster. They even hired a social worker to track my little group of “friends”,who spent most of her time talking to me. I presumed this was because I was clearly their leader, and more intelligent than the rest.

A Diagnosis of ODD

At 15, I was diagnosed with ODD (oppositional defiance disorder), but I manipulated my therapist and rarely told her the truth about anything. I certainly never told her about all the vandalism, dishonesty, deliberate manipulation and pervasive violence. My mother used the premise of her divorce to insist that I see a psychologist. She acknowledged that *something* was off; I lied chronically to everyone as it suited my purposes and I was verbally abusive and occasionally violent with her, as well as to my partners in several relationships. But I never suffered from depression, delusions or psychosis, so she didn’t really believe anything was seriously wrong with me. I also know that she minimized my actions to the psychologist, with whom she would meet separately.