I am starting to feel the same way, I wear them day and night. I went a few hours without a diaper on and went back into my underwear and I did not feel right without the diaper on.

Update 

Yup. Wouldn't have it any other way. I've had a couple of decades plus to get used to being urinary IC. It gets better with age.  

This is a place to help you find more about our group: Website: https://azabdl.org/ Telegram AZ ABDL Playpen (we hangout and chat most the most here): https://t.me/+Ew93sehDYoVlNjQz Telegram Channel (for updates): https://t.me/azabdlsocialsanctuary At this time, if you sign in with your Telegram account and you are part of the Telegram Playpen, you can see more details about events.  We do this to help create a safe place for everyone in AZ to be their ABDL-self! We do not tolerate "fakes" or those that will cause harm in our group. 

I was aiming to have this chapter posted last night, but that was before I found out Dune Part Two is now on HBO Max. 😆 Chapter 15 I woke to my mom gently shaking my shoulder.  Looking up at her she smiled and said, “Hey sweety, we need to go see your therapist soon.” Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I said, “OK.” My mom pulled the covers back, felt the front of my diaper, and said, “You are just a little damp, you should be good until after your appointment is over.” All I could do was sigh at my mom’s comment.  I was then hoisted up onto my mom’s hip and I could see my dad getting the I.V. pole while holding a small tote bag.  My mom then said, “We cleared it with the nurses and will be taking you to your appointment in a different part of the hospital.  I think a change in scenery will be good for you.” I just nodded my head as my mom carried me out of the room with my dad following behind with my I.V. pole.  I could see that the nurses' station was right outside my room as we made our way down the corridor to the elevator.  After getting off the elevator, we went down a maze of corridors until we arrived at the entrance of an office space with a sign that read ‘Department of Psychology’.  We walked into what looked like a small waiting room and approached the receptionist.  My mom said, “Hello, we have a two o’clock appointment for William Gauss with Dr. Reynolds.” The receptionist replied, “I will let Dr. Reynolds know that you are here.  If you could please wait in the waiting area, she will be with you soon.” My mom said, “Thank you.” During the entire interaction, I couldn’t help but notice that she kept looking at me and smiling.  I guess she thinks I’m just a toddler.  My parents and I made it over to a row of chairs and my mom took a seat with me sitting in her lap.  My mom looked down at me and said, “Honey, can you be honest with the therapist?  I know you tend to put on a brave face and say that you are OK, even when you are not.  She is not going to judge you, so you can tell her anything you want, good or bad.  Anything you say will be between you and her.” I shook my head yes and said, “OK.” The next thing I know, someone is saying, “William Gauss,” from across the room.  My parents stand up with me back on my mom’s hip and as we are making our way across the room, I see that it is a woman in her early forties with light brown hair and eyes.  With a smile, she said, “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Gauss,” then looking directly at me, “ and you must be the famous Will that I heard so much about.  I’m Dr. Reynolds, but you can call me Denise.” I nodded and said, “Nice to meet you.” With a wave of her hand, Denise said, “Follow me to my office, please.” Walking down a short hallway, we entered Denise's office.  Looking around, it looks like a typical large office, with half dedicated to a large desk with bookshelves lining the walls and the other half set up into a sitting area with a large couch, to armchairs that surround a coffee table.  Denise said, “Let Will sit on the couch.  I understand that he is having trouble with sitting and standing, so let’s make him as comfortable as possible.” My mom carried me over to the couch and placed me on one end where I was wedged in the corner to help keep me upright.  With a kiss on my forehead she said, “Good luck, sweetheart.  If you need a change at any point just let Denise know and I will come and change you.” Blushing a little, I just nodded my head.  My dad moved my I.V. pole beside the couch and set down the small tote bag he was carrying. He kissed me on the forehead and said, “Love you, Will, we will be outside when you are ready.” I watched as Denise let them out of the room and then shut the door behind them.  She walked back over and took a seat next to me on the couch.  She was average size for a woman, but I instantly found myself intimidated by her when compared to my new size and instinctively drew my knees up to my chest.  Denise asked, “Will, are you alright?” Looking up at her, I said, “Yeah, it’s just that everyone and everything is kind of intimidating now.” “I can move to a chair if that would make you feel more comfortable,” she said. I responded, “No, it’s OK.  I guess it's just that I don’t have any vivid memories from when I was this small so I don’t have anything to ground myself to right now.  The world was a scary enough place when I was six foot, but now it seems a lot more scary.” “That is understandable, what do you think would make you feel less scared?” she asked. I said, “I don’t know, I guess just time would probably help.” “Time would probably help the most, but if you find that you are still having any anxiety from this, we can work on some grounding techniques that could help too.”  Pausing for a second she then said, “I am free for the rest of the afternoon, so we can talk about anything you need to talk about for as long as you need.” I nodded my head and then after a few seconds of thinking, I decided that I had nothing to lose at this point and just bared my soul to her.  I told her everything.  I told her about my fear for my future and what I was supposed to do with the rest of my life.  I told her about my issues with the changes to my body and how people perceive me now.  I told her how I’m not even sure how I am supposed to perceive myself now.  I told how I hated that I needed diapers and shitting myself all the time.  I told her about my fear of trying to potty train and my fear of failing at something that is supposed to be fundamental to anyone 3 years old or older.  I told her about my loss of independence and anger at having to rely on others. At one point, I had wet myself and had to circle back around and rant about wetting my diaper in front of her.  After about an hour and a half of talking, I think I finally got all my fear and anger out of my system, that was the word vomit that Denise had to listen to. Looking over at her, I see that she has been taking notes on a legal pad.  She paused for a moment then said, “I understand that this is all very life-changing for you.  Your fear of what to do about your future and life plans is justified.  I think the best thing you can do for yourself is focus on the here and now.  Focus on getting your mobility back would do wonders for your outlook on life.  I see that you were going to grad school for applied math and based on your I.Q. scores, you are still very intelligent and should have no problems pursuing something in that field.  You will need to adjust your plans on how you do it due to your physical needs, but I still see that you would be capable down the road.  But your focus right now should be on getting healthy and then working on future goals.  Does that make sense to you?” “Yes, get out of the hospital first before thinking about future plans,” I said. With a smile, she said, “Very good, the second main item you were talking about is incontinent. I worked with plenty of patients who suffer from being incontinent.  I know it can be embarrassing to have to deal with, but millions of people suffer from it and need some form of protection.  There is one advantage that you have that most adults do not.  Even though you are an adult you do appear to be two years old.  Nobody is going to bat an eye if they accidentally see that you are wearing a diaper.  I guess that leads us to the next item about people perceiving you as a small child.  Honestly, you will probably have most people think that you are a toddler, but if you want to look on the bright side; that means most people will underestimate you and you can use that to your advantage when pursuing your goals down the road.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “This leads to the issue you are having with your gender identity.  It sounds like, before all the changes, you had no problem with being born male and being a guy, right?” “Yes,” I said. “And being intersex now with female genitals is causing you to question your gender?” “Yes,” I repeated. “That is understandable, the vast majority of people are perfectly happy with the gender that aligns with the sex they were born as.  For a small minority, that is not the case and they identify as transgender or nonbinary.  There are also people who are born intersex that either have both male and female attributes or a mixture of both and have to choose which gender they align with.  In your case, there is no problem if you want to still be a boy if you want to.  You also have the opportunity to explore being a girl or gender-neutral if you want to,” she said. Thinking for a moment, I said, “I guess I can think about the boy and girl options.  I'm going to probably have to pass on the gender-neutral option, I struggle enough as it is with using they, them pronouns and gender-neutral vernacular properly.” “That is a very big step for you.  I want to see you again tomorrow, but think about it and if you can, talk to your parents,” Denise said. I nodded my head as she stood up and said, “I'm going to go get your parents, I will be right back.” I watched as she walked out, then a few minutes later, she returned with my parents.  My mom picked me up and as she placed a hand on my bottom, I could feel it squish against her hand.  She whispered to me, “I will change you as soon as we get back to your room.” I nodded my head and rested it on her shoulder.  As my dad was getting my I.V. pole and the tote bag, Denise said, “I will see you tomorrow, Will.” I said, “OK,” and then my mom said, “Thank you, Denise.” As we were heading back to my room, I found myself lost in thought.  Thinking back to my childhood, I remember one of the biggest insults as a boy was to be called a girl, to be told you threw like a girl, ran like a girl, or to stop crying like a little girl.  The other big one was to be called gay or a fag.  I then found myself thinking about how it seems that if a guy did anything remotely feminine or wore anything feminine or perceived as feminine his manhood could be called into question by both men and women, but the opposite would rarely happen. Am I considering going against what has been drilled into me my whole life?  Should I just sleep on it tonight? My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a woman say, “Hey, cutie.” I then realized that I was in an elevator and as I had been staring off into space, I had been staring at this woman.  I simply replied, “Hi.” Smiling, she said, “How old are you, sweety?” Before I could even stop myself, I shot off, “Old enough to fight and fuck.” I see a shocked look on her face as I hear my dad start busting out laughing.  The next thing I knew, I was looking at the back of the elevator as my mom turned to address the women. My mom said, “Sorry, my son is actually twenty-seven and has been having a rough time for the past month and a half.” I then hear the woman say, “Well, looking at his sagging diaper, he still has not got the hang of going to the potty yet.” I felt my mom’s body tense up as she said, “My child has been in a coma for over a month and just woke up and is relearning how to sit and walk again, so the potty is low on the priority list right now,” as the doors to the elevator opened. My mom steps off, followed by my dad who is trying to regain his composure.  I hear my mom mumble, “What a bitch.” I then said, “Yeah, she was a real see you next Tuesday.” My mom asked, “What does that mean?” As we were entering my room, I said, “It means cunt.” My mom laid me down on the bed and looked down at me with a stern facial expression.  At that moment I could not help but feel incredibly small under her gaze.  I felt like drawing my limbs inward towards my body.  In an irritated voice, she said, “I understand that it’s frustrating for people to mistake you for a small child, but you can’t go off cursing and saying smartass comments to strangers.” While tapping on my forehead with her index finger, she said, “The people that matter know you are an adult up here.” I couldn’t help at that moment, but to shut my eyes and let out a small whimper.  My mom has been way madder at me in the past, but she seemed so intimidating to me at that moment.  I open my eyes and see that the color has drained from my mom’s face.  In a quiet, concerned voice, she asked, “Will, am I scaring you?” I just nodded my head.  She scooped me up in her arms and held me tightly.  As she was rubbing my back, she said, “I am so sorry, Will.  I didn’t realize how scary everything can be to you now.  Can you forgive me?” I just nodded my head into her shoulder.  She then laid me back down and after kissing me on the forehead said, “Let’s get you in a dry diaper.” She then pushed my gown up to my chest.  As she was un-taping my diaper, my dad set a new diaper and wipes beside me and said with a smile, “Don’t listen to your mother, that was the funniest thing you said in over a month.” I just rolled my eyes at my dad’s attempt to make a joke.  My mom quickly wiped the pee off me and fastened a dry diaper around my waist.  I watched as she threw the wet diaper away and washed her hands.  Walking back over to me she asked, “Do you want to work on sitting up some more?” I just nodded my head, and then with a great deal of force, I was able to sit up.  After about 15 minutes, I was getting very tired again and collapsed onto my back.  My mom then picked me up and then sat in bed with me in her lap.  She wrapped a blanket around me and ran her fingers through my hair as we just sat and watched TV.  At some point, Abby came in and started my evening feeding.  Shortly after the feeding bag was empty I ended up pooping my diaper.  After a diaper change and a dose of pain medicine, I slept through the rest of the night. I woke up the next morning to my leg being pushed up to my chest.  I open my eyes and see that my mom is in the middle of changing my diaper.  With a smile, she said, “Good morning Will,  Abby will be here soon and your diaper was soaked.” I just said, “Morning.” My mom finished changing me into a dry diaper, and then a few minutes later Abby walked in with the scale on a cart.  As she was starting my feeding bag, she looked down at me and said, “Good morning, Will.” I replied, “Morning.” She then said, “Let’s get your height and weight.” I just nodded as she picked me up and laid me down on the scale.  She then said, “Looks like you weigh twenty-six pounds and fourteen ounces, and you are thirty-six inches tall.” She then sat me back down on the bed sitting up.  I decided I might as well get some exercise, so I remained sitting.  She said, “I will be back in a little bit.” After Abby left, I found myself getting nervous about the conversation that I was about to have with my parents.  I thought about it all last night and after sleeping on it, I knew I would need to bring it up to my parents.  I felt my palms getting a little sweaty and I could already feel myself getting embarrassed.  Taking in a deep breath, I said, “Mom, Dad, I have a question.” My mom said, “Sure, what is your question?” Pausing for a moment and with a gulp, I asked, “What would y’all have named me if I was born a girl?” as my face turned cherry red.