Have you ever had the uncontrollable urge to do something? If so, you know what I go through. My name is Andrew. I am fifteen and a kleptomaniac.
For me, it is not that I want to take things that do not belong to me. For me, it is an addiction. Half the time, I don’t even realize that I am doing it until it’s too late. In the past, my mother sent me to get help, but it never worked for long.
If the police knew all of the stuff I’ve taken from stores, they would probably lock me up for the rest of my life. I’ve stolen more clothes and merchandise than anyone could imagine. I don’t want to steal from people, but that is what I do. I am addicted to stealing.
I should have always known I would end up in jail, but I didn’t really think about it much. I just took life as one big game, thinking I could never ever get caught.
So one day, I walked into the local hardware store. I took a two-hundred dollar power tool off the rack, pretended to check out the specs. A manager walked by, didn’t even look at me. I thought I was home free, even managed to get it into my messenger bag between the two folders I kept inside to mask bigger prizes.
I spent a little while walking around the store, bought a soda, and was ready to call it a day.
As I walked out the door, two police officers stood there. I just knew they were waiting for me. I felt it in my gut like a huge fist twisting there. I thought about walking back inside to use the bathroom or something, but told myself to stay calm. Be chill, that was my motto. No one suspected people who were chill and acting like they were innocent. If you looked like you belonged there—and I mean, I have walked into the backrooms of stores just by acting confident, like I worked there—then people don’t look twice. I always flew way under the radar.
But not this time.
They had been watching out for me for some time, waiting for the proof they needed that I was a compulsive shoplifter. Now they had it. They opened my book bag and saw the drill and other little tools and pieces I had taken. They immediately arrested me and charged me with grand theft.
When I was booked, I asked how I could be charged for a felony instead of the misdemeanor shoplifting charge. They said that the total value of the items came to over five-hundred dollars! I had I thought it had to be a single item over that price, but they told me that I thought wrong.
In the state of Florida, I can be charged as an adult for felony charges. That is what the prosecutor wants to do. She said that I had a minor burglary charge from when I was eight and had stolen my best friend’s bike. The prosecutor says that I deserve to be charged as an adult, because I did not learn the first time that this is wrongful behavior. She says that I deserve to spend time in prison and have it on my record. I think that what she is doing to me is wrong.
While I am awaiting trial, my public defender is trying to set up some type of plea bargain for me. He says that he wants to get me into a mental facility instead of prison; he thinks that would be a better option. My mom said that he needs to also get a psychologist to see if this is a mental condition. They say that, because I have no control and usually no memory of stealing the goods, the prosecutor should agree to a plea bargain involving some kind of treatment for kleptomania, the addiction to stealing. It is a very dangerous addiction, because if it does not get you arrested, it could get you killed.
The prosecutor is considering it as long as my mother and I agree to two years in an inpatient facility and another two years worth of probation once I am released. I cannot believe that I am on the line like this! But I’ve been told that it could be a lot worse: Florida has longer jail sentences for repeat offenders.
Still, I think that it is an unfair punishment. I can’t control this behavior. If I could control it, I would. Why should I be punished for something that is not my fault?
~ * ~
When I talked to my mother during visiting hours, she said that she is going to tell them to accept the plea bargain. I begged her not to. I don’t want to be marked as a kleptomaniac. I know that I took the stuff from the hardware store, but they are taking this way too far, in my opinion. I feel like I was set up. I want to fight.
My mom says that what she is doing is for my own good. She wants to break me of my addiction to stealing stuff, before I get out of hand.
I want to just get back to my life, you know? If I steal, so what! It is not something that is going to affect anyone else, is it? Why can’t I control this? Why is it that this happens to some people, yet others are completely normal? This isn’t fair. I hate the person that I am, but I don’t want some shrink saying I’m mentally ill or have a behavioral addiction. What do they know about me or my life? This is bogus.
I think that maybe I should take the plea bargain, but it will be hard for me to know if I am making the right choice.
Maybe my mom is right. If I take this, it may not hurt me as bad as the prison time would. At least I would not be around hardened criminals. Yet, I am not sure if I should give in. I just want to go home. If I fight it, there is a chance that I could go free.
~ * ~
When a doctor and my public defender brought up the idea that I was a kleptomaniac, it sounded more like an excuse they thought would explain what I did. My mother then researched kleptomania, and she now agrees with that diagnosis. So I guess I am stuck in an inpatient minimal-security mental health facility for the next two years of my life! Ugh!
Maybe I should be happy. I could spend my eighteenth birthday in a few years sitting in a cell.
The worst part is that, after I leave the facility, I still have to seek treatment for kleptomania locally. I have to do this during the entire time that I am on probation. If I do not successfully attend all of my scheduled appointments, I will be sent to prison for the remainder of that two years.
~ * ~
I think that after I am done with all of this, I am seriously going to find a way to keep from ever stealing again. If I have to go to therapy for the rest of my life, so be it. I do not need this kind of guilt and stress. I never want anyone to keep me from going home again.
I meet with the doctor for the inpatient facility tomorrow morning, and I have to sit in my first group session the next night. I don’t know how I feel about sharing what I have done with others… But if it gets me home in two years, I’ll do what has to be done.
~ * ~
I realize now that there are no other people that I can blame for what I did. It was my crime, whether or not it was by choice.
I just wish that I could find a way to be able to get this over with quicker, because I miss my mother and my girlfriend. Since my girlfriend is fifteen, they will not allow her to come visit me. My brother can’t come here either, because he is also under eighteen. I miss them like crazy, but I have to wait until I am out of here to be with them. I hope that my girlfriend is willing to wait for me, but I wouldn’t blame her if she decides to find someone else to be with. She’s young and cute, I’d get it.
My addiction nearly ended up beating me to the point of no return. I had dreams, you know. Things I wanted to do. I wanted to play baseball, and get into a good college, maybe on scholarship. Who’s going to accept me or want me on a team now? I’ll need to think of a new future.
I make the choice every day to fight this addiction, so that I never end up back here again. I hope that I can succeed… If I can’t, I’ll be spending time in prison instead of a mental ward.
The hardest part of all is reminding myself that I do have a problem. Without treatment, it will never get better. I have already heard one person say that they went through treatment for kleptomania and failed afterwards to maintain it. I guess the statistics say that failure’s pretty common.
So now I fight that uncontrollable urge. I will control it. I will control myself. I will control my own future.
This is going to work. It has to. It just has to.