Why Did I Hurt Animals as a Kid?

Since I was around 4, things have never felt normal. My mum used to drag me by my hair, hit me, scream at me constantly. She had depression and a rough past, and I think that shaped me early.

At age 4–6, I was told lizards could regrow their tails. So I found one, took it into the bathroom, and ripped its tail off. I saw blood and didn’t panic—just flushed the tail and let the lizard go. When someone asked me about it, I lied and said I didn’t do it.

At age 4, I swung a shovel at a small dog’s head just to see it scared. I laughed while doing it. The dog got away, and I’ve felt some remorse for that—but not for anything else.

At age 7, I found a dead mouse and stabbed it with a shovel over and over. No guilt. No reaction.

I’ve always been obsessed with serial killers, murder, and getting away with things. I lie constantly—about small stuff and big stuff—just because I can. Then I say I was joking and laugh it off.

I’ve had extreme anger and low impulse control since I was a kid. At age 6, I double-bounced my younger brother on a trampoline after being told not to. He was 4 and nearly broke his leg. I didn’t care—I just wanted to do it.

Even now, when I get mad at him, I’ll beat him up or choke him until he cries. Then I make him stop crying so I don’t get in trouble. I don’t feel bad unless I know I’ll get punished.

From age 13 onward, I’ve been obsessed with fire—lighting lighters inside, waving flames near walls, knowing the risk but doing it anyway. I laugh at gory and violent scenes in movies or games. Not fake nervous laughter—actual amusement.

I saw someone get killed once—like a real scene—and I felt emotionally detached while it was happening. Later, when I heard the audio of it, I started laughing. I don’t know why. It just felt like nothing.

Since age 4, I’ve thought I’ve seen shadows and people that weren’t there. I’ve had paranoia on and off, and I’ve always been drawn to thrill-seeking stuff—doing risky things just to feel something.

I think I have some empathy, but it’s delayed or only shows up when I think I’ll get caught. I’m not trying to glorify anything—I just want real answers.

Is this psychopathy? Is it trauma? Is it something else?