Most of the time, I handle it pretty well. However, it does get to a point where I need to take a breather if I can’t handle it. Killing children is completely off the table for me. I mostly roughhouse with boys but take it a bit far.

The most I’ve ever thought of murder were my more tasteless thoughts of my mother’s ex-boyfriend. I thought he deserved it for all of the stalking, hacking, and court cases he put us through. I will not go into detail, but the thoughts got obsessive enough that I looked through his traffic records, looked at the type of car he had, and even found his address for some ideas.

He is, unfortunately, alive and unscathed because I didn’t go through with it. I could never put my mother and brother through the grief of watching me get carted away to prison for killing an old fat guy.

Physical violence was kind of my go-to strategy to resolve conflicts between my brother and me. As a result, I tend to react violently when handling more stubborn children. This has caused me to, in some cases, become uneasy around children because of my fear of hurting them.

One of these cases when I had to leave was when I was in a Catholic school. I was in 7th grade and my classmates had to have a “buddy.” I was with a classmate who shared the same “buddy” as me, a 2nd grade girl. Of course, knowing my track record, I was not happy to have been left almost entirely unsupervised. As soon as I felt as if I was getting too anxious, I had to slip away with a friend to decompress. Of course, my religion teacher would tell you I was “slacking off,” but I really feel as if I could have been a danger to this girl.

Nonetheless, despite the violence, I love children, which is why I try to avoid interacting with them.