Posted 26 August 2008 - 06:26 PM
All of my mother's children were ignored, particularly in their infancies. She did not wish to be a mother. She never should have been a mother. She was only a mother because of what society expected. There wasn't a clue in the woman's brain as to how to go about properly raising children.
Had prenatal testing existed while I was in the womb, I would have been aborted solely on the basis of gender. My mother had a tantrum when I was born, saying that she could only have boys and that I must be a boy named Timothy Lars <last name>. The doctors responded by saying that I was most certainly a little girl, and she better name me something else. She only continued to yell, and it was my father who named me.
My brothers were spoiled, but never loved. The brother I am closest to was rejected from our mother in infancy. He was allergic to her milk, and my clueless parents did not realize this for months. When they did finally figure it out, Mother acted as if it were the child's fault and thus the first emotion permanently embedded into his subconsciousness was anger. The first emotion permanently embedded into my own subconsciousness was that of being a let-down, of being a disappointment by simply being myself.
So yes, our mother was emotionally abusive. She wasn't physically abusive, though her own father was to his wife. She did come pretty darn close to being physically abusive. She threatened it frequently enough, and her children all came to emulate this. When angry, she would throw things to the ground and curse us.
Do I like the idea of "punishment" as an adult? Not in the least. I find it repelling. I am the way I am because I need something to make up for the neglect of so long ago and a way to feel gently loved.
All of my siblings are also on some level of the AB spectrum, so to speak, though they wouldn't define it as such and I also do not define myself as an adult baby/child. Thanks a lot, Mother.
I'm so pathetically a product of the way I was raised, or the lack thereof.
Posted 22 September 2008 - 10:43 PM
my diaper desires started at age 6 when my sister was physicaly abused.
i've never had any trouble with bed wetting or anything.
but i do have nightmares from other abusers in my lifetime
as a result from the abusiveness in my life i am an adult baby
Posted 03 October 2008 - 06:50 AM
Posted 04 October 2008 - 05:18 PM
Posted 20 October 2008 - 09:13 PM
I spent my childhood feeling like I was just a burden so you can imagine the joys i had. Something to be said when you spend 3 months with an ear infection because you're afraid to tell them. The physical abuse was almost comical, especially when my head got stuck in the wall.. and didn't hurt. I look back and laugh at most of this stuff but I guess I can do that or let it consume me. I had to let go for my own sanity and because my parents apologized to me. They both were part of the cycle and neither really knew differently.
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Posted 21 October 2008 - 12:00 AM
I was kicked out of daycare when I was four years old because I was trouble for the person who took care of my age group. I don't really remember what she did but I was always in trouble there and she never wanted to work with me or deal with me. I couldn't talk and I wasn't like the other kids.
I was also bullied by other kids.
So I can't say I was abused as a kid or not because I don't know how to answer it.
Posted 23 October 2008 - 06:38 AM
My father remarried a year later, had a few good years with my stepmom. They divorced a few years later, and for a little while we would go visit her...then she decided that it was "too painful for her to see us, as we weren't truly hers". Have never seen her again.
My father would beat us with the belt or even a fishing pole rod when we misbehaved, so I quickly learned to be a "good girl". Even so, nothing I ever did was good enough...his favorite saying was, "you half-assed that!" When I began developing, around age 11...he started his sexual innuendos. His best friend tried to have sex with me that year, but was unable to due to size constraints.
I was raped by my boyfriend just before my 13th birthday. He told me that I deserved it, since I was such a "tease".
When I was 17, my father told me that he couldn't stand to look at me since I resemble my mom so much.
During my adult life, I have never been physically abused, but have been psychologically/emotionally abused in many of my relationships. Cheated on, told that I wasn't "pretty enough", told that I had no worth.
I didn't find my love for diapers until much later in life, just this year at age 41. I dove right in. Diapers represent comfort to me, when I am stressed out or down, putting one on will put me in an instant calm state. I'm thinking it may represent those first years with my mom, though I have no memory of her.
Posted 16 March 2009 - 10:12 AM
Posted 16 June 2009 - 10:03 PM
Posted 24 June 2009 - 07:14 PM
Posted 24 June 2009 - 09:44 PM
I don't think it had any bearing on my liking of diapers and occasional AB side... But, the mind is a mysterious thing... So, who really knows?
Posted 26 June 2009 - 04:18 AM
There were large amounts of time when the teacher was out of the classroom and we were "watched" by a sixth grader
who tormented us. I remember being locked in a dark closet. Unrelated to that but in the same classroom I remember
several incidents of toilet overflows that probably whacked me for a long time with respect for public bathrooms.
Posted 26 June 2009 - 07:17 PM
Get this: Pokemon was considered evil. Why? I have no idea. (I'm not a fan of Pokemon now, btw- I just think Pikachu is cute) So basically, having channels like "Fox Kids" forbidden made me a bit left out.
Also, I remember distinctly the only person who wanted to push me to become the best person I can be was my brother. When I was in 8th grade- I think- he attempted to teach me a College Level Course. Now you can imagine my family's reaction: "He can't possibly do that!" But he insisted that with proper motivation and enough effort, I could. Now, my family's approach to education: I was scared out of taking Pre-Calculus because of the "risks" on my GPA. (Yes, that's right- I was still feeling the effects my Junior year of high school)
Now, I can't say for sure if their Religion has anything to do with my current mentality- I used to think it did for sure, but I've had a lot of time to think. It's kinda the whole "over-protective" kind of parenting- like slapping a child's hand when he attempts to touch a hot stove. Given the circumstances, I'm not sure if any of what happened counts as abuse in a legal manner.
But as of today, my fetish definently seems to relate. Aside from diapers, into two big fetishes: bondage and punishment. Ironically, I hate the idea of being restricted to the point of helplessness and being punished when I don't deserve it- yet, when it comes to "play time," I love the idea. I suppose you could say that I still suffer from these problems, and I want to redirect it towards a more "positive" energy- instead of sorrow and anger, pleasure and joy.
Image created by bedwetter78 on DiaperedAnime
Posted 26 June 2009 - 08:58 PM
Posted 04 July 2009 - 11:32 PM
I can trace my need for diapers directly to sexual abuse as a small child. From as early as I can remember, I was abused by a family member. As a helpless, physically overpowered kid, I trusted no one. Given what was happening to me without cause (I expended every effort to be an absolute angel as a kid), I feared being killed by this man should he be found out. He made that quite clear, and I believed him to be capable of it. The abuse stopped around age 12 or so. I believe he may have turned his attention to another, younger family member, though I have never raised the issue.
Somewhere along the line, quite early, I found one - just one - defense from my tormentor. Depending on which abusive act he was determined to perform, wetting and/or pooping myself at the right moment could divert his intentions. This utterly revolted him, and he would fly into a rage. I would then be physically beaten to a pulp, and the sexual abuse was thus prevented.
It was my one weapon. It sure wasn't winning - just losing less - but it worked enough of the time to keep me doing it. For me, being ready to do what needed to be done was essential. Being in a diaper meant that I was ready. It was a shield, it gave me comfort and confidence. It made me feel like I had a way to stand up for my little self and assert some little bit of control.
I didn't get to actually wear a diaper much at all, though there were plenty in the house for my younger siblings. I was terrified that someone would find out and then my only defense would be taken away and nullified. If that monster had figured it out, it certainly would have been all over.
These days, he is getting old and frail and I live thousands of miles away. He's no longer a threat to me or anyone else. I rarely see him now, and never without other family present. Given his age, it's entirely possible that I will never see him again. That would suit me just fine.
An event in my life caused me to tell my wife all about it recently. Instead of repulsing her, opening up about this has brought us closer together. Having her understand, along with also having a good shrink to help frame the issue, has been a tremendous relief. I'm no longer carrying this alone, and that is really helping. I no longer have to hide my past. I now wear diapers every day. I have my security blanket with me, everywhere I go.
I have a long, long way to go before I could consider myself recovered. I don't even know what recovery means or what it would look like, but I sure know what it doesn't look like.
And, if I can put in my 2 cents on the forgiveness question. I won't be able to forgive my tormentor nor the other family members who looked the other way. However, he's not the one who needs forgiveness - I am working on forgiving myself. For what, exactly, I'm not sure, but there is a load of guilt about the past which needs to be dealt with. I am not ashamed of what I did to stop my abuser, quite the contrary - it was the strongest thing I have ever done for myself - but the adult in me wishes I didn't have to.
Forgive my tormentor? No, not yet. Not when I have been wishing to hear news of his death for decades. Not when I still hope for 'that' phone call. Maybe I could forgive him someday - I never say never - but no, I can't do that now.
Posted 06 July 2009 - 09:45 PM
Posted 20 July 2009 - 11:15 PM
I knew I wanted to be back in nappies before what happened to me, so I know the two are unrelated. It was however, the reason I did so many drugs as a teenager. Over it now though, she can burn in hell now.
Posted 20 October 2010 - 06:33 PM
It Could Not Affect You More Thats Impossable And No Matter What Anyone Says You Will Never Know How It Fells Or How Hard It Is To Try To Live Like Everything Is Ota When You Are Afrade 247 Anyone That Treats A Child Or Anyone For That Matter That Way Should Be Shot !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Just How Many Night Hab You Cryed Yourself Ta Sleep Than Try To Stay Awake So You Can See It Comming And Try To Get Away Than Wake Up With Well Never Mind But No It Could Not Have Affected You More. And That I Know How You Fell No You Dont Not Till You Go Though It And I Hope You Never Do .
Nothing Agenst Anyone Its Just Impossable Just Letting You Know. BTW Thats The Only Time I Wished I Was A Boy.
Sorry If I Went To Far
Posted 01 December 2012 - 06:57 AM
Posted 01 December 2012 - 11:39 PM
I was abused, mentally, physically, sexually, psychologically and every other way you could probably think of.
I wet the bed from age 3 upto the age of leaving home and I still do.
Back in the 1970's and 1980's there was no one you could really talk to - my abuser(s) told me that if I said anything to anyone I'd end up in borstal or residential care. My mother was one of the abusers - hopefully she's already dead or if not, she'll die a lonely painful death - something that mirrored all of my childhood. Don't anyone <b>DARE </b>tell me that I should forgive......because I can never forgive her or any of those that abused me.
Why don't I do something about it now I'm an adult???? That's simple really - I don't want the one person in my family who loves me (my grandma) to understand the pain and abuse I suffered as a child. My only salvation, my only sanctuary was summer at grandma's house - and when she asked me if anything was wrong - I said no - I was too scared to say anything else. For every ounce of good that I have to this day - I can attribute it <b>only</b> to the love my grandma gives me. She is my world, she's 81 and when she's gone....then the shit <b>will</b> hit the fan.
To the question of whether my abuse is anyway related to my need for night time protection and/or my sexual arousal with nappies/diapers - I can't really answer that. Do I regress to a time when I was happy as a child - certainly not....the only time I was happy was when I was with my grandma and she treated my bedwetting with care, respect and love.
I get a sexual kick out of nappies/diapers sometimes - but other times I despise the site of them. I find them to be a means to an end, they stop the bed getting wet but also they act as a means of arousal.
I live alone, I don't ever think I'll find someone who can live with me and my "moments" from the past. One day I'll draw a line, make plans for the future without the torture of the past. But all I care about in my life are my friends online and offline the charity I raise money for and my dear grandma.
All I can say is that despite being all grown up, having the body and mind of an adult all the time - when I sleep and I have the nightmares that relate back to my childhood......and it hurts, damn it really hurts. I can't change the past and for now it stays with me - one day I'll leave it all behind.
I to was abused from a young age. I held all that hate in my heart for years I gave up the best days in my life for hate. It's just not worth it. I found our lord and god and found pease for my heart. There is not a thing I can do to them but I can help myself and I did. My mother was as bad as my dadi was raised till I was 7 by my mother only my dad would have not a thing to do with me because I was not potty trained and my mother dressed me has a girl because of my problems. When I turned 7 my dad took over and I was dragged down to the barber shop in my best pink dress and patten leather shoes. He told the barber to cut my hair all off. My hair was down to my wast and the barber said I can't cut her hair and my dad said he's a dam boy cut it and so he did. Belive it or not my heart was broke I cried for hours. And when I could not stop he beat the hell out of me with his belt. Every time I talked back or did not do what he told me when he told me he would beat me.
This is just part of it but I let it go told them I forgive you and they asked me for what,but I knew in my heart what they did and from that day to this my heart is free and happy. Hate only the person with it loses and that's the truth.
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