PTSD

I can only speak from my experience. Poverty is the only crime I have ever encountered. I was a fairly happy child. I dreamed of being a princess as many young girls do. I realized I was poor at a visit to a free clothing bank with my mother. I vividly recall her asking my father (who was the sole breadwinner) for money to buy school clothes. It ended in my drunk father refusing. The next day she took me to a free clothes bank. I remember feeling sorry for my mom who was still young and pretty at the time. Writhing in embarrassment we went to collect the discarded items from some privileged child whom life had allowed to live her little girl princess dream. I was quick witted and understood completely where we were and what we were doing in the dank old church. I politely refused the used panties I was offered. No reasonable princess would wear used underwear. Writing this today reminds me of the first time I stole from a retail store. My pretty newly single mother sat on the couch crying the day before me and my four siblings were supposed to start school. She couldn't make ends meet and we had nothing to wear to school. She planned on sending us in our summer clothes but the district had implemented a new uniform policy. We had nothing to wear. I was twelve years old and knew exactly where to find the local clothes thief. I told her who I was and made a deal to drive her to the mall if she could teach me to shoplift. I came home with trash bags full of uniforms for all five of us. I told my mother that it was a gift so she wouldn't worry. I found it insulting that my teachers recommended I pay more attention in school when there were barely enough human necessities at my home. I had an adult temper tantrum today because someone stole from me at work. After all of the meditation and healing I've done I felt like a little girl who was made to wear donated clothes.