Lately I've been thinking quite heavily, especially so I've been reflecting on my life and my current situation. Here I am 22 years old, still at home, never had a serious relationship and I have a serious addicition to nappys/diapers or whatever name you wish to give them. Getting to this point hasn't taken much effort or even self reflection, but here I stand reflecting and with an emmence ammount of effort.
Some 6 months have passed since my last encounter with my bane; the product designed for adults of whom cannot control bodily functions. And my viscous and self-destroying cycle of emotions and thoughts runs through quite formidably. As I'm at home, and living with my parents, yet "lucky" enough to be the only child (dispite the fact I'm not a child to live at home); I'm finding it more and more of a challenge to be able to find a perfect time to arrange the delivery of my drug, my escape; the diaper/nappy. This is causing me emmence problems in all elements of my life.
You see I've came to realise that when I put on a diaper/nappy, I feel a rush. Now I'm sure by reading that line you think a rush in a sexual nature, but I'm also sure you won't disagree with me when you feel that rush of safety, feeling like everythings perfect and perhaps even fixed? Of course this is obvious, and perhaps not even problematic, but being 6 months without such a stimulation has provked a degree of thought, which has been plaguing me the past several weeks of which I have been denying and ignoring. This "rush", gives me a sense of safety and shuts off all my problems straight away and all I can think about is how perfect the moment is and how lucky I am, even so how much I love my life at that point. But after, after the sensation and luxury of the moment fades into the nomality and blandess of life; I cannot help but reflect.
We are denying ourselves if we don't agree on the one obvious point; this is a defense mechanism. Regression, by that I mean, and by that I mean all the Diaper Lovers and all the Adult babys, who choose to regress into this state of safety and reliance. but what are we hiding from? I apppreicate some people may even disagree with me, that this is just a sensation that was developed at some point in our premature lives, carried forward into adult hood that has caused such wonder; however can we realy deny why we do it? Why does dressing ourselves in such irrelavant (to some) objects make us feel the way we feel? Is it because when we were very young we were aided by such mechanisms that has caused us to feel safe or is this adefensive mechanism? Has it been an act of random attraction and affilation? I don't know, all I know is I feel safe when I have one, but I also feel a severe of risk of being caught, dispite being caught red handed several occasions.
I'm not sure what I'm getting at but, I'm just wondering if anyone has felt the same way? I've been searching for purpose lately; in all aspects of my life and I cannot help but feel regret, even when I elude my life and absord in this activity.