Childhood

Earliest Memories…

My earliest memory is one in which I caused another person horrific pain.

I was on some sort of swing set contraption with another child when I was struck by the sudden and overpowering urge to pull the kid’s pigtails. I remember tugging on them viciously and relentlessly, in spite of the big noise she was making, and enjoying the sensation of having the power to induce such a major reaction out of her.

There was nothing about the child’s crying, screaming or begging that compelled me to want to stop; I did not “feel her pain” or empathize with her to any degree; I only stopped because of the parental intervention and fuss that ensued. Nevertheless, I do not think that such displays are universal or even reliable indicators of future antisocial temperament, for this type of behavior is no doubt common to many children. Yet it begs the question: is empathy innate, or acquired? If it is innate, I was born with a deficiency in that particular department.

Primary School…

I never got along with other kids during my early childhood because I always insisted upon holding the entire balance of power in my interactions with them. When I was four and five years old, I refused to play with other kids unless I could first get them to agree that I would be the boss. As a child in primary school, I frequently became vocally belligerent, and regularly got into physical fights with my classmates, who teased me relentlessly on account of my rigidity and inability to pick up on social cues . I was an odd, smart kid who was ostracized and rejected, who was frequently made the target of verbal humiliation. Yet I did not fear the children who tormented me, nor did I permit myself to develop the mentality of a victim, which I perceived as weak.

Sometimes, I confronted my oppressors vehemently, in conflicts that would rapidly escalate and end in violence. Other times, I would hide in the bathroom and cry throughout recess.  I was moody and incapable of handling my emotions, particularly anger, which I experienced with an unusual degree of  intensity.

I was prone to hyperactivity, tantrums and violent outbursts, and I could never keep my mouth shut when opposed or defied. Yet I consistently achieved the highest grades in my class, in an enriched stream. I baffled and exhausted my teachers.

In spite of my poor impulse control, strong-will, and vile temper, I was emotionally sensitive, yet treated very harshly both at home and at school.  I had no siblings to confide in, no deep friendships to help me through.  My father, being a psychopath, was prone to physical and verbal abuse.  My mother worked all the time, so I did not have a great deal of supervision or guidance.

By the time I reached high school, I had been negatively socialized to the point that I had effectively become antisocial. I had learned to literally “shut off” caring what anyone else thought of me or my behaviors.  This was a defense mechanism that had become very deeply entrenched: I didn’t like people, they didn’t like me, and I could not have cared less. It was a relief.

A Pattern of Abuse…

In my neighborhood at home, I did have some “normal”, albeit superficial friendships where I was not overtly abusive. However, there was one little girl whom I regularly delighted in exploiting. One day, she found a beautiful rock encrusted with gold and white quartz crystals that I coveted intensely. I waited until she went inside, and simply took it. I claimed it as my own, and refused to let her have it back, overtly declaring that I had found it. I did not care that I was lying. This might not seem like a “big deal” to most people, but it was a defining moment in my life, for it served to underscore how I was, from a very young age,  comfortable being treacherous and callous with my peers.

Indeed, this type of interaction was typical of our relationship. She was a few years younger than me and thus very easy to manipulate. Whenever I mistreated her to the point that she would threaten to “tell on me”, I bribed her with candy or treats, for she was overweight and prone to gluttony. Sometimes I was obliged to fulfill my conniving promises to her, but more often than not, I found ways to avoid paying the bribe. I never felt guilty about it.

Grossly Inappropriate Reactions…

I alienated another childhood friend due to an incident in which I reacted in a grossly inappropriate manner.

I used to haunt an old shipyard near my house, which was abandoned and unsupervised. I had convinced this friend to climb onto these huge metal barges with me. The ships were pretty high from our perspective along the land, which was a big peninsula that had a bike path running along it. This was a dangerous activity to be sure, but I reveled in thrill-seeking, and for a time, this had become my pet outlet.

As we embarked upon the ships, our weight would invariably push the barges away from the side, so we had to scramble to get on quickly and avoid falling into the water.  This challenge riveted and energized me, but one afternoon, things took a turn for the worst for my friend. She did not manage to climb onto the boat quickly enough, so she got stuck with one leg on land and the other on the ship, which had begin to move away from the peninsula. She was stuck and had begun to panic and scream frantically. She had also begun to cry.

I didn’t help my friend, because I was literally doubled over and rendered completely ineffective by my hysterical laughter. She was begging me to help her, but I was laughing to the point that I had tears in my eyes, because there were stinking, rotting fish and loads of garbage in the water right underneath her, and this struck me as uproariously funny. (On some level, it still does. I cannot help but chuckle as I remember her horrified, bulging eyes. That is just the way my sense of humor works.)

Some guy riding along on the bike path had to stop and assist my friend out of her predicament, as I was unable to stop laughing. I’ll never forget the way that guy looked at me. His eyes clearly said: there is something *seriously* wrong with you, kid- and he was probably right.  This girl stopped being my friend after that point, as I showed absolutely no remorse, even when she confronted

This was a pattern in my childhood friendships. I was impulsive, manipulative, cruel, and prone to leading my friends into dangerous, risky situations. None of my childhood friendships endured into adolescence.