I didn't get caught. I got busted.

#h3***My Journey Into Shoplifting***#h3<br>I never thought I’d be my own thief. It was a slow burn, How I was the one that stole. It just became an automatic response. A counterattack on the prices I was charged to live. I thought I had pulled it off. I thought I had won. Until one day.<br><br>&#x200B;<br><br>#h3***The Day I Got Busted***#h3<br>It was a sunny afternoon, a Fourth of July to be exact. The year was 2017. I got up out of bed after a good sleep. I drove my car to Walmart and it was on. I remember it very clear. I didn’t have a plan. I never had one every time I went in. I just knew how I wanted to feel. I wanted stuff. I was addicted. I felt so good. I felt reborn. For a short moment at least. I walked outside feeling like I had won. I was on top of the world. King of the fucking world. I thought I had pulled it off. I thought I had won. That was when I saw him. The man. The fat pig. He grabbed me by the arm and my whole world came crashing down. He said “Come with me.” I didn’t fight it. I was ready. I knew it was coming.<br><br>&#x200B;<br><br>#h3***The Day That Changed My Life Forever***#h3<br>I was taken to a security room back behind the registers. It was a small room. Cold as hell. I remember the feeling in my stomach. It was racing. I thought I was going to throw up. I thought I was going to shit my pants. I thought I was going to pass out. I sat in the chair. It was cold. I started to think about how I was going to make excuses. It didn’t work. I was caught. I was busted. I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t say anything. I was speechless. My hands were shaking. I had done this thousands of times. I felt so entitled. I felt invincible. The law was too dumb to catch me. It didn’t matter how much I had stolen. It didn’t matter what I had stolen. The only thing that mattered was I had stolen. Nothing was mine. I just took it. I never thought about anyone else. I never thought about the employees that were supposed to stop me. I never thought about anyone at all. I didn’t think about the repercussions. I thought the outcome would be. I didn’t think at all.<br><br>&#x200B;<br><br>#h3***The Outcome***#h3<br>The outcome was I got charged with criminal trespassing. I was given a court date. I never had a problem with the law. It was my first charge. It sat in my gut. It didn’t feel good at all. I knew I was a piece of shit. I had thrown my life away. I had thrown everything away. I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I knew someday it would come back to bite me. It had. I felt disgusted. It was a sick feeling. I saw myself as a thief. I was a bad person. I was a bottom feeder. I was a fucking piece of shit. I wish I had never done it. I wish I had never shoplifted. I wish someone had stopped me. I wish I had stopped myself. I didn’t. I got addicted. I let it control me. I had a sick obsession. I fed it. It didn’t do me any good at all. I tried to fill a void. I never did. I still have that void. I still have that sick obsession. Now I feed it with something else. I have learned to live with it. I’ve learned to accept it as a part of my life. I’ve learned to never give into it. I’ve learned to never let it take me over again. I have learned to never let anyone else take over again. I’m free. I’m free from what I thought I needed. I’m free from what I felt I deserved. I’m free from what I thought was mine. I’m free to live.