一个惯偷的自白
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I do it every day， sometimes 20 to 30 times. I move from shop to shop， taking what I need， what I don’t need. As long as I come away with something， I’m OK. On a bad day， I rack up hundreds of pounds’ worth of clothes， makeup， food and jewellery. The more I get， the better the high. I’ve done it thousands of times， but I’ve been caught only a few. I’m not proud. I know it’s wrong and I feel awful about it. Just not enough to stop. I used to put it down to greed， but it feels like more than that. It’s an addiction. If I’m feeling stressed， it’s like pulling a 1）trigger and the next minute I’m in a shop putting stuff in my bag to make me feel better.
Friends who find out what I do are shocked. I don’t drink or do drugs； I have a degree， dress nicely， carry myself well. But I see it as my private thing， my release. It’s my way of self-soothing， like a 2）security blanket， which in turn becomes a sort of selfharming， a way of confirming in my own mind that I’m a bad person.
It all started when I was a 3）toddler. My mother used to steal in front of me and my sisters―her little girls would all watch， not knowing that what she was doing was wrong. One of my first memories is of her taking food from supermarkets： steak， expensive joints of lamb. She wouldn’t try to 4）conceal it. My dad would do it， too， for no reason. They never needed to， they both worked， but I suppose they enjoyed the risk.
As a child， I felt I led a double life. At school I was intelligent， popular and funny； I would make people laugh. At home I was miserable. My parents argued and I would have to listen to their problems. I felt isolated from my sisters， who were much younger than me.
I didn’t have much pocket money， so I would 5）shoplift and give things to friends. As a child， you know stealing isn’t allowed， but after what I had witnessed， it seemed normal to me. Confusingly， my parents were moral in other ways―they worked hard and taught us to pull together as a family―but stealing was a big weakness， and they passed it on to me.
When my parents 6）split up， the stealing increased. It got me through university， kept me ticking over financially. Then it started to become more compulsive； I would feel the urge rising in me， the need to go to the nearest shopping centre and pinch.
What I decide to steal doesn’t really make sense to me； most of it I never use. Fake tan， for instance―I’ve taken more than 250 bottles of the stuff over the years， and never once used it. They’re all lined up at home， unopened.
It’s all connected to the way I feel at the time. I take the tanning lotion when I’m disappointed in myself， so the bottles have 7）stacked up. I have a pile of costume jewellery， too. I don’t know why. It’s all down to this awful habit I have of hating myself. If my mood is low， if I’m anxious or I’ve had an argument， these are the times I’ll really go for it. While I’m stealing， I feel almost 8）euphoric but also disconnected， as if I’m dreaming or someone else is doing it. This feeling will last for a while， but then a dread realisation kicks in and my mood 9）plunges. I’m painfully aware what I do is wrong， yet I feel I have very little control.
Things 10）escalated after my partner left me for another woman. The feelings of rejection and anger created a void， one that I filled with more stealing. At my lowest， when I felt most depressed and detached， I would shoplift all day on autopilot. I have been diagnosed with 11）borderline personality disorder； the symptoms can include feelings of emptiness and impulsive behaviour. It is a relief at least to have an explanation for my behaviour.
I’ve been caught three times， and on my last court appearance I was given a 12）conditional discharge. The 13）magistrate said he would give me one more chance. If I’m caught again， I will go to prison， which I just can’t face. I’ve started counselling now. I’m working towards a maths qualification and for the first time I feel inspired to stop. I believe my addiction is treatable， even though I’ll probably always have to fight the urge. I’ve never been offered anything like this before and I’m learning that I’m not all bad. I can be helped.
我每天都会偷东西，有时候一天要偷20到
30次。我穿梭流连于店铺之间，拿走我需要、不需要的东西。只要能带走点什么，我就会感觉良好。严重起来，我会一日之内卷走价值几百英镑的衣服、化妆品、食物和珠宝。我偷到的越多，心情就越爽。我已经偷过几千次了，但只被抓住过几次而已。我并不引以为傲。我知道这不对，也为此感觉很糟。但这却不足以让我因此而停手。我曾将之归结为贪婪，但感觉似乎不止于此。那是一种瘾症。如果我感觉到压抑，那就像是扣动了扳机，下一分钟我便会现身于某个店铺，把货品塞进我的包包，以此让自己感觉好些。
那些发现了我所作所为的朋友们都感到震惊。我既不酗酒，也不吸毒；我有学位，衣着得体，举止文雅。但我将偷窃视作自己的私事，我的发泄。这是我自我抚慰的方式，就像是块儿安全毯，但反过来它又变成了一种自我伤害，令我在自己内心证实：我是一个坏人。
一切都始于我尚在蹒跚学步的时期。我母亲过去常常在我和妹妹们面前偷窃――她年幼的女儿们全都看在眼里，并不知道她正在做的事情是错误的。我最初的记忆之一便是她从超市里窃走食物：牛排、昂贵的羔羊腿肉。她从未试图遮掩这种行为。我爸爸也会这么做，却毫无理由。他们从不需要这样做，因为他俩都有工作，而我猜想他们是喜欢这种刺激。
小时候，我觉得自己过着双重生活。在学校里，我聪明，受人欢迎，风趣可爱；我能逗得人们开怀大笑。在家里，我却痛苦不堪。父母亲争吵不断，我得无奈地听他们诉苦。我觉得自己同妹妹们孤立开来了，她们都比我年幼得多。
我没有多少零花钱，所以我会去商店里偷东西，然后送给朋友们。小时候，你知道偷东西是不被允许的，但耳濡目染之下，这对于我来说很平常。令人疑惑的是，我的父母亲在其他方面都品性端正――他们工作努力并教导我们作为一家人要齐心协力――但偷窃是个致命的癖好，而他们将其传给了我。
当父母离异之后，我偷窃的次数也增加了。我因而得以读完大学，在经济上能勉强过活。之后，这种行为开始变得更具强迫性了；我能感觉到心里冉冉升起的那股冲动，那种去到最近的购物中心偷窃的需要。
实际上，我决定要偷的东西对于我来说并没什么用处；其中的大部分我从来都不用。比如说，美黑霜――在过去数年里，我已经偷了超过250瓶这种东西了，却从未用过一次，都被我一字排开放在家里，没开过封。
这都和我当时的心情有关。当我对自己感到失望时就会去偷助晒油，所以这些瓶瓶罐罐已然堆积成山。我也有一大堆人造珠宝。我也不知道为什么。这全都归结于我这种怨恨自己的可怕习惯。如果我心情低落，感到焦虑或与人争吵过，在这些时候我就真的会去偷东西。在偷窃的时候，我感到心情舒畅，但又自我脱离，似乎正在做梦，或是感觉正在偷窃的是另有其人。这种感觉将会持续一段时间，但接着，一种可怕的意识闯了进来，我的心情便急转直下。我痛苦地意识到自己的行为是错误的，但又觉得自己几乎无法控制。
在我的爱人因为另一个女人离开我之后，情况更严重了。那些背弃和愤怒的感觉衍生了一种空虚，一种让我实施更多的偷窃去填补的空虚。在情绪最低落，感到最消沉和孤独的时候，我会不由自主地整天去店铺里偷窃。我被诊断为边缘性人格障碍；其症状包括空虚感和冲动行为。这也算是一种慰藉，至少对于我的行为有个解释。
我被抓住过三次，而在最后一次出庭时，我被判决有条件释放。地方法官说，他愿意再给我一次机会。如果我再被抓到偷东西，就会进监狱，这是我无法面对的。现在我已开始接受辅导。我正努力考取一个数学证书，并生平第一次感到深受鼓舞想停止偷窃。我相信我的瘾症是可以治疗的，虽然很有可能我终生都要与那种冲动斗争。我这辈子从未得到过任何像这样的帮助，而且我也认识到，自己并不是个彻头彻尾的坏人。我是能被救治的。