By BitterGrey
Today I met with an ex-coworker for lunch. He would be leaving the company in a few days, so his work schedule was relaxed.
"Hang with me." he asked. I enjoy his company, and so accepted, assuming we would go to a coffee shop or some place like that. "We're going some place you've never been before," he said with a smile, "Babies 'R' Us."
He had an infant son, and couldn't possibly know about me. Of course, he was the MIS manager, and by far the best informed about office scuttlebutt. We went in and got Pampers. I should have thought to inconspicuously use a mirror - I know I was blushing.
In general, my transition into diapers is progressing slowly. There have been a few interesting effects on my excretory habits. I still haven't retrained my self to wet in bed easily. This has cost me some sleep because my bladder keeps me awake at times but won't cooperate. This probably saved me a number wet beds. My bowels have also had to adapt, because the disposables don't have enough room for a full movement. It was clear from the start that this journey would involve keeping an eye on constipation and infections. So far, they have all been easily cleared up. Surprisingly, there haven't been any bad rashes.
I'm using cloth for night, and disposables or sometimes cloth for the day. I don't wear diapers to interviews, mostly so they won't interfere with my chances of getting the job. Washing out the diaper pail and plastic pants has become a chore. The diapers are machine washed, and so aren't as gross. (Yes, many masochists don't enjoy going to the dentist, and this ABDL doesn't enjoy cleaning out diaper pails.)
Overtones of "Network..."
I usually don't remember my dreams, but last night's was weird. I was conscious of being diapered. If diapers follow the pattern of my bearing vest, then it will take them a few months to become part of my environment, so that they will be noticed in my dreams. A few months after that, they will become part of me, and I won't notice them anymore.
So there I was, and that detective from "There's Something About Mary" was spying on me. Ich. Next thing I know, I'm at a corner shopping center near where I grew up. And then, one of those high-resolution computer generated meteors hits across from the freeway. It had a tone of "Deep Impact," as opposed to the cheesier meteors of "Armageddon." Still, it felt a little superficial. I should have been either vaporized or crushed by the shock wave, but wasn't. I didn't even wet myself - still something I need to do consciously.
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to dream about women, like 'normal' people do. (Of course, at other times, I wonder if people really dream about that stuff or if it is just Hollywood's concept of what "normal" people ought to dream about.) I'd even be happy with Citsitra, powerful and maternal. With my luck, the dream would center around Estel Williams, come to replay her role in "Stop, or My Mom Will Shoot."
I've been averaging three interviews a week. It isn't much, but it does bite into my time in diapers. At the onset, the experience was nearly 24/7. Now with the frequent interruptions, it is much less complete.
Well, all journeys must come to an end. I finally got another job, and moved away from that house. I never did wear my diapers to work, to interviews, or to family get-togethers. That was not a mistake. It would have been a step toward making my journey a permanent relocation. I also didn't try to cause rectal impaction, bladder infections, or behavioral bedwetting. If I had taken measures to become dependent on diapers, I would now be regretting them. Whatever the conclusion about the journey and the lessons it taught, I'm happier having returned.
As it turns out, I'm happier wanting than having. Please understand, I enjoy diapers. It is just that the thrill wears off. Without the thrill, they are smelly and inconvenient. I know a couple people who are happy being back in diapers continuously. Perhaps one or more of them would be willing to share their experiences. Dave's survey (website temporarily closed) reports that 23% of responses claimed to be in diapers 24/7. However, it doesn't say how many of them chose to wear diapers always, as opposed to those who needed to. For me, diapers are like chocolate cake. I enjoy them most a little at a time.
Later, the desire to wear diapers did return, although it was not like it was before. Perhaps I'm just burned out for a while. My shy bladder came back too, annoyingly.
One thing that should be kept in mind. I've been studying my infantilism for several years now. It's root mechanism has been reasonably well documented in Three Things to do with a Wet Knee Brace. As part of tracing the mechanism, the need that may have fueled my infantilism was found. It was then dealt with. This cleared up some more direct problems caused by the same need, but didn't vanquish my infantilism.
However, dealing with the underlying problems may have undermined the infantilism. Undermining is one of the more universal of strategies. To break a castle wall, you tunnel under it and then burn out the beams in the tunnel. The mine collapses, and with it, the wall.
What does this mean? Once the underlying need was dealt with, there was less fuel. Without fuel, the mechanism didn't run, and without a driving mechanism, there was nothing pushing my infantilism. It kept moving because of habit or inertia. But when the infantilism needed a push to overcome the realities of full-blown diaper use, that push wasn't there.
Anyway, maybe that is why I didn't like being in diapers 24/7, but some other people do.
One baby moves out, but another is on the way.
A little before I moved out, my landlord/roommate said that his wife was pregnant. They had been married for a while, and so would have had an 'accident' before now. They had planned this. Perhaps the faintest scent of baby powder brought his wife's attention to her biological clock.
While I did go around the house in diapers, it was always discretely. To this day, they may not know that I wore them. The landlord is the old navy sort, that most would underestimate as a redneck. He's seen the Simba's Pride sheets. He also claims to have once run a brothel. There is no telling what he knows.
The time I spent in diapers 24/7 seems so long ago. I've moved to Northern California and am paying four times the rent. There is a nostalgia for back there, back then. Every so often, I catch myself looking for opportunities to go 24/7 again. I started wearing diapers again after six months without them. This wasn't a desperate or involuntary act; I decided that I would be able to reach and help more people as a practicing ABDL. Of course, now I wear diapers much less ambitiously.
This leaves one question: would I do it again? I'm not sure. The jobhunting manuals warn people to maintain their working habits, to avoid developing unemployed and unprofessional habits. Wearing diapers would fall into this category, and it isn't hard to see how they could have hampered my jobhunt. Furthermore, I know I don't enjoy wearing diapers full time. But still, I'm not sure.
Perhaps it is nostalgia that obscures reality with a warm, comfortable covering, like the fluffy quilt of fantasy. The soft layers snuggle, restoring the distance between wanting and having.
Do you have Questions, tips, suggestions, or other feedback?
