This feels a bit like binge and purge again. Perhaps I had experienced it in another way aside from just throwing everything diaper-related away in hopes of never thinking about it again in a moment of weakness when I reached out to my journal to share myself with the blank pages to the story of my life. For those who are adult babies or diaper lovers, I’m sure you’ve all been there too. Throwing it away is TOTALLY going to make things better…until it doesn’t.
From a moment of vulnerability when we put ourselves into a diaper to escape whatever part of the world or our little side wants to shield us from, to the swing of emotion to shame as our mental state shifts back and we see ourselves again in a different light we fight the binge/purge cycle. When I have come out of little space, and saw myself diapered, I have been ashamed and humiliated with myself. Until recently, I did not understand my little side (and I feel I am coming more and more to grips with that part of me). I am working to swing the balance from shame to understanding and acceptance. I hope to not hate myself as I return to my own head.
Back to my journal.. There have been a few times that I have wanted to share this part of myself with my journal. Part in hopes to learn from it, but part in wanting to be completely honest with myself through my writing. I knew that there would be a trail of myself for others to read, and I believe that I probably what led me to what I did next.
I can remember the day when I finally began putting pen to paper and describing my desire to wear diapers in my journal. It scared me, but I also began to learn a little bit about myself (not near the level of when I shared with my wife). No longer than when I had finished the pages of writing did that shame, humiliation, and regret creep in. The binge/purge cycle had found my journal. After staring at the pages of writing (and even a doodle of a diaper) for some time I began to rip my confession or admission of part of who I am back out of my written history.
I was in that moment, and still am today partially ashamed of this part of who I am. Even as I sit here typing this out, in a diaper, there is that twinge of doubt inside me. I felt so much comfort as I put my diaper on this morning, and feel it now with the padding between me and my chair. I continue to struggle and figure out who I am, and perhaps those feelings will never go away. I am trying to understand myself, and I know that through communication with my wife, with the ABDL community, and through my writing that I’ve been able to reach new levels of understanding.
I don’t know if I will write in my journal again, not soon anyways, but for now I work to keep this content alive as I continue to figure myself out.