Confessions of a kleptomaniac

Wed, 10 Oct 2012 22:05:00 +0000

Stealing was my first addiction. It took hold in my early childhood and outlasted my later drug use, like a cockroach in a nuclear holocaust.

One of my earliest memories—I was five or six—is of stealing chocolate from a cafe in London. It was a Trio bar, divided into a “trio” of chocolate, caramel and biscuit squares. They don't make them any more. I saw it in the fridge and my imagination worked at tearing off the foil packaging, shoving the first square into my mouth, feeling the chocolate melt over my tongue… But I didn’t have it, and that was intolerable, so I took it.

My father, the local evangelical pastor, put me to bed that night. The Trio was carefully hidden under my pillow, and Dad put his hand there and found it. I felt a shame that's been with me ever since. The next day, I was forced to return the chocolate to the cafe owner. As I mumbled my apology, I noticed the adults grinning at each other and sharing looks I didn’t understand. I was humiliated.

Salon.com > Kleptomania

Confessions of a kleptomaniac