self-destructive streak

When I was 2 years old, I stuck my fingers in an electric socket, my mom got frightened and pulled my hand away.
When I was 4 I developed a habit to sneak into kitchen, climb a shelf and grab knives and fork. The kind old housekeeping lady used to take them away before I could hurt myself. I used to cry when she did that.
When I was 6, one night I found the gate open and left my home. I wandered in the neighborhood at 5 in the morning before my uncle found me. Everyone was terrified. I was just sad they found me and brought me back home.
When I was 9 and I got a bike as a birthday present, I started riding it without hands and on various occasions fell and scraped my knee. I got bored with this new found hobby once I got so adept at it that I could do it without falling down.
When I was 12, I started bunking school to hang out with older boys. The principal told my mother and I was grounded for 2 months. When they let me go out again, I went straight to my friends who got me in trouble.
When I was 14, I found a pack of cigarettes in my uncle’s coat and that was the first time I smoked one whole pack in one sitting. After that, it was my usual midnight activity. When my father found out he sat me down and told me smoking was going to kill me. I remember being completely fine with that.
When I was 16, one night after a horrible day, I found out by experimenting that slicing my skin with a razor blade was pretty exciting. For months after that, I continued with my new hobby. The blood seeping through paper thin gashes in my skin, somehow, made me feel alive.And then, one day it just got plain dull.
When I was 17, my extremely inappropriate friends introduced me to a friend of theirs and I fell in love instantly. It was cocaine. They said one who once gets hooked on it never got off. Well, not in my case. I got bored of it after my parents told me it was going to kill me and it didn’t.
When I was 20, I fell in love with you. That was the one addiction that I never really got over may be because I finally found the thing which was going to kill me. Sweetly. Slowly. Excruciatingly. anxiety_by_vera_chimera-d57e6fw

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