When I was a little kid I was just like anybody else. I was born in Milwaukee in May 21, 1960, the son of Lionel and Joyce Dahmer. At the age of six after some minor surgery, which coincided with the birth of my brother, there seemed to be a change in me. At the time a career opportunity for my father resulted in my family moving from Iowa to Ohio. I don’t know why it started. I don’t have any definite answers on that myself. If I knew the true, real reasons why all this started, before it ever did, I wouldn’t probably have done any of it. Though the thoughts were like arrows, shooting through my mind from out of the blue. By the time I was fourteen the compulsions to murder and necrophilia began to occur.
I’d rather be talking about anything else in the world right now, but just after I graduated from high school, in June 1978, I picked up a hitchhiker named Steven Hicks, I took him home to my parents' house, where we drank beer and had sex. When he tried to leave, I killed him with a barbell by hitting his head. That night in Ohio, that was one impulsive night. Nothing’s been normal since then. It tainted my whole life. After it happened I thought I’d just try to live as normally as possible and bury it, but things like that don’t stay buried. I didn’t think it would, but it does, it tainted my whole life. I wish I hadn’t done it. At the same time of my first killing, my alcohol consumption became uncontrollable and in January 1979, I dropped out of Ohio State University after only one term due to my drunkenness. Thus, my recently remarried father insisted that I enlist in the Army, and I was sent to Germany. Though my drinking problem persisted and two years later the Army discharged me for alcoholism. Following my discharge I returned home to Ohio where I went through Hicks' decomposing remains, pulverized them with a hammer, and scattered the pieces even more widely in the woods. Later in October 1981 I was arrested for...
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