I’m conflicted about this; a part of myself is proud for getting away with it another part is worried about what I’m becoming. I stole a pen from a shop, it was quite easy as someone had already done half the job for me (removing the pen from its packaging) which meant I could get out without setting off alarms because the pen had no bar code.
Earlier I had been having a terrible day to the point that I had a breakdown. My mum went into the shop and left me waiting in the car with anger and depression boiling up inside me. I started having fantasies about doing reckless things and how thrilling it would be to break the rules. After a while I gave in to temptation and walked into the shop with my goal to steal something in mind. Conflict inside my head; The angry rebellious teen egging me on and the fearful child worrying reminding me of the possible consequences.
I hovered round the toy/stationary section and I saw a journal, the bar code was only attached by a sleeve that I could easily remove. perhaps too easy I thought to myself I think this massive journal is a bit too ambitious so I put the journal back, it was then that I spotted the neglected brand new pen that had been removed from its packaging and it seemed that someone else already took the other two that was supposed to be in a pack with it.
I picked up the pen, hid it up my coat sleeve and headed for the exit; I’d never felt so scared or excited in my life as I past the security guards and the sensors and made it outside and got back in the car to continue waiting for my mum. Honestly I got a kick out of it and I felt alive straying away from my usual good citizen path but it wasn’t long before the guilt kicked in.
The police are probably going to come to your house
It’s just a pen
It starts with a pen the next thing you know it will be a TV
Other people would rob my charity store at least I’m not as low as they are
But you’re just as bad as them return the pen
It’s not fair I should be able to get away with it, everyone else does
Not everyone give them the pen back and apologise
No I’m not doing all that for nothing
It wasn’t even that hard give the damn pen back
No I want to keep it as a trophy
You may see it as a trophy now but when your mood changes it will serve as reminder of your sins and you’ll be riddled with guilt every time you look at it and even if you get rid of it, you’ll have nightmares about that pen.
… That’s a bit of a stretch
It’s the truth besides your mum would be disappointed
Um… What she don’t know won’t hurt her
She’ll find out, you know she will either through the police or through you because you’ll be overcome by guilt and imagine how that would make her feel. Did she raise a delinquent?
Then return the pen.
It was then I grabbed the pen and walked back into the shop I didn’t return it directly as I was afraid they would report me and I would be arrested in front of my mum and bring her shame. So I put it back where I found it and then I remembered something I’d seen on TV where a character made the others believe she lost the key when she had it in her pocket the whole time but when she was ready to go she simply dropped the keys when no one was looking and pretended she’d just found them and picked them up to show everyone.
That’s what I did with the pen, I pretended to be browsing and put the pen back where I found it but then picked it back up with it’s empty packaging and gave it to one of the shop assistants who had been walking by, pretending I’d only just found it, she said “thank you” and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I’d done it, I got away with it but then I did the right thing and returned it. It took all of my willpower not to bolt out the exit though.
I think my problems are getting worse I read that stuff like this is to do with BPD. I’ve asked for therapy weeks possibly even months ago but nothing and clearly medication is not the be all and end all to my issues. I should probably take my dad’s offer to pay and go private…
UPDATE: I wrote this a few days ago on the day that I did it. I didn’t publish it because I feared what people would think of me but I decided that I would give the whole grizzly picture of my mental state as that’s kind of the point of this blog. I’m not bad but I am ill and the illness is getting worse. I’ve got an appointment to see a psychiatrist in a couple of weeks. I’ll tell her about what’s been happening and see what she says.