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Hey so what you fell off the wagon, it happens, just start over. I was quite the alcoholic myself I didn't go 1 day without it, I always drank to get drunk, I never new what just 1 drink was. Right now it's been about 6 years since I had a beer, I don't miss the stuff. I didn't start drinking until I was in my late 20's, at that age I was lonely and just wanted to be with people, and one thing led to another and then I was an alcoholic. I quit so can you, if it don't work the first time so what try again, nothing wrong with 2nd and 3rd chances or 5th and 6th if you need them. I think the main thing is you want to quit, it might take you awhile to get going who's counting. I wish you the best of luck...Bee

I am going to suggest a more natural route although it doesn't work for everyone. Try to set aside a small period of time every day in which you won't be interrupted. Use that time to meditate. You'd be surprised what meditation does for blood pressure, anxieties and such. Yoga is another thing you can do to elevate your mood and it often goes hand in hand with meditation. Or, if you don't like the whole meditation thing, another good thing to do is scrounge up every book, article or movie that makes you laugh and make time to watch/read them. Laughing helps to release the chemical serotonin into your body which helps to regulate your mood and decrease irritability. Find something.. anything.. that is sure to make you laugh (provided it isn't at the expense of someone else). Also, find time to exercise. Exercise also helps the release of neurotransmitters and endorphins, which are "feel good" chemicals that ease depression. It also reduces immune system chemicals that actually worsen depression. It gives you more energy which in turn makes you feel better. All of the above things require you to set aside time. I know that can be rough when you have a really busy schedule.. but you won't regret doing it. For a little bit of time each day you can improve your overall health tremendously. Depression is a serious thing and you should take all the steps that you can to improve it. St. John's Wort is a natural supplement that you can take that has been shown to alleviate the symptoms of depression. I definitely recommend going the natural route (ie supplements, exercise, etc) over depression medication because you run the risk of dependency. Not only that, but a lot of people experience a lot of unpleasant side effects from them. And when you are on them more than a short time, your body builds an immunity to it and the doctor has to either increase your dosage or switch you to another type. But sometimes, the natural route doesn't help and you need to seek medical attention for depression as it can be a chemical imbalance. Either way, don't stay depressed.. try some different methods and see what works best for you!

So a grown man dressing and acting like a little girl isn't wrong, but wanting to lose bladder control is? What ever happened to "live and let live"? As long as they aren't hurting anybody I don't see the harm in it. It is their life, it is their body. Let them make the choices and live with it. "Judge not, that ye not be judged."

Not really much of a concern for those of us who don't fly...

I Crinkle, can you explain how a photo can be both under and over exposed at the same time? Do you mean that the foreground is in deep shadow causing that area to be under exposed while there is strong back light which is over exposed to the point of blowing out? Something that often disturbs me is inappropriate white balance as if the digital camera is set for daylight when the light source is normal incandescent lamps. Often the white balance issue can be solved by using strobe lighting, which is nearly the same as daylight. A full set of studio strobes, appropriately used, can add a professional touch to photos, even AB/DL pictures.

Not passing judgment on anybody, and perhaps I'm even off-topic, but I think that the whole scheme of sending people with disabilities a check in the mail every month is infinitely less effective than footing the bill for occupational therapy. There are people out there bound to wheelchairs and even barely able to move their arms on top of that who manage to find gainful employment. The capability of those who are 'disabled' is impressive when they also happen to be motivated. Again, not really voicing that with reference to anybody in this thread. Just tossing in my two cents on the 'people exploit the disability payments' tangent. On ECT, the dangers are highly overrated. Modern methods of ECT are quite effective and have provided relief to thousands of people already. It's nothing like what was done 50 years ago. As with any treatment, there are risks and side-effects associated with it's practice, but it's really a matter of individual determination in that case. It is only practiced with informed consent in this day and age.

I haven't seen, or started one of these threads before. Christmas always gets me down. I genuinely hate it. I suffer from depression, and i am medicated for it, but the whole "It's Christmas, we must all act happy and do the christmas stuff" really makes me even more depressed.

iam pretty much mouth agape on this question.....and iam not sure i want to understand here ether....

Rehabilitating Cathy - Part 9 The Lettergirl Cathy progressed rapidly in the Pop Tarts. Her skill on the field was matched by her generosity with the ball, so her teammates rapidly adopted her as one of their own. Coach Spears and Captain Argolis began to send her on to the field with greater frequency and leaving her in for longer periods of time. "Nice one, Cathy!" exclaimed Melissa, as Cathy pivoted suddenly and neatly kicked a pass from one of her teammates past the unprepared goalee of the Luvs. Later, as they waited in line to be loaded on to the truck for their return to the gym, Melissa added, "that's your third goal in the last week. I'm thinking of putting you on the travel squad when we go intermural against Whetstone Academy on Saturday." "Really?" Cathy enthused. "That would be so wicked!" "I'll talk it over with Coach," Melissa promised. "Don't make any plans for Saturday afternoon." "Ha ha," Cathy said. "Like anyone here could make plans." "Ha ha, yeah." Melissa agreed. "But be ready in case we need you." "Sure, no problem. I'll be ready," replied Cathy. "No, I'm not joking. I mean be really ready." "What does ready mean?" Cathy asked. "It means having an empty colon after lunch, dummy," intoned Melissa. "You don't want to take a chance on a brown card in a big game." "You gotta admit, I'm pretty cool on the brown card front," said Cathy. "Yeah," agreed Melissa, "I agree. I can only think of one brown card for you since you've been out of punishment diapers." "Well, when I'm not force fed through the gag, I don't get so much bulk, so I don't have to poop so often or so much. It's just common sense," explained Cathy. Melissa nodded. "I wish Joanie would figure it out. We lose her to brown cards way too often." On Saturday morning at breakfast Melissa sought out Cathy at the table where she was breakfasting with her cellmate Jessica. "You're going to the game. Be ready to leave right after lunch. And remember what I said," Melissa said pointedly, putting her hand on her lower abdomen. "We don't want any brown cards." At noon Cathy was so wound up and excited that she couldn't eat much. She drank a glass of warm lemonade and nibbled at a piece of bread, but that was all she could get down. "Now I know what they mean by butterflies in the stomach," Cathy thought to herself. "But at least butterflies don't make you poop," she giggled to herself. At the end of lunch Coach Spears came in to the cafeteria. "Pop Tarts over here," she shouted. Fifteen or twenty girls clustered around her, remarkably quiet in the noisy cafeteria. "This way, girls," said the Coach, leading the way down the corridor toward the path to the gym. The team made its way to the gym. As they approached she saw parked outside, with Meridon banners attached to its sides, one of the stake trucks so familiar from the rides back from the fields after games or practices. The team filed into the locker room and quietly set about changing into their game equipment. Cathy made quick work of getting into her soccer kit. The shoes, shin guard, and forearm guards were the same as she had worn in practice. Coach Spears came over to her with a couple of colorful plastic-wrapped items. These turned out to be a soccer uniform in the Meridon colors, yellow and red. The yellow was the same as on the matrons' uniforms. Cathy quickly donned the new uniform and joined her teammates on line at the dressed up stake truck. I guess since they always bring us back on the stake truck, they take us out there on it as well to save gas, thought Cathy as she joined the end of the line. As Cathy came to the front of the line, the matron there held out one of the gags with which Cathy was already so familiar. Cathy opened her mouth and the matron quickly inserted the gag and connected the locking straps behind her head. Pressing her down against the ottoman-like support, she quickly connected the hoist ropes to the eyelets on Cathy's shinguards and forearm guards. In a moment, Cathy was positioned on her back on the bed of the truck with the rest of her teammates, her arms and legs extended upward to the crossbars across the truck bed.. I wonder whose diaper my head is pressed against, Cathy wondered, as cool hydrating fluid began to flow slowly into her mouth through the gag. The truck started up. Cathy stared into the sky, sucking gently on her feeding gag. By the time the truck came to a complete stop Cathy had wet herself twice and had felt the telltale warmth against the top of her head that told her that at least that neighbor had done likewise. Cathy was lifted from the bed of the truck and deposited straight onto a changing table. An assistant coach appeared in her field of view. The woman reached down with her silver bracelet and unlatched the strap of Cathy's gag, pulling it from her mouth. "How, ya doin', babe?" asked the woman? "I'm OK," replied Cathy. "I'm gonna change you. If you gotta poop, do it now. Don't go out on the field with anything up there. You ain't getting any help, you know." Cathy tensed her lower abdomen experimentally. Nothing. "Thanks," Cathy said, "but I'm already pretty empty down there. I was brown before lunch, and I didn't eat hardly anything." "Good for you, babe," said the matron. "Let me get you changed, then." She made quick work of getting Cathy into a dry diaper. She helped Cathy down from the changing table and gave her a swat on her padded bottom as Cathy ran off toward the girls gathered around the coach. Coach Spears led the Pop Tarts across the field to the visitors' side. They lined up along the sideline. Cathy saw the home team, the Whetstone Dhrystones, lining up along their sideline. A woman dressed in the shortsleeve yellow pinstripe shirt of a soccer referee trotted over to the Dhrystone line. She conferred with the Dhrystone coach and several of the players for a moment, then most of the Dhrystones lined up along the sidline facing the field. The referee went down the line of girls one at a time. As she reached each one in turn, the girl bent over at the waist and grabbed her own ankles. Cathy watched in amazement, puzzled by the spectacle across the field. She couldn't tell what the referee was doing, but the ref was reaching behind each girl and it looked like she was checking her diaper. Each girl gave a little lurch, and then the referee moved on to the next in line while the girl stood up and moved away from the sideline to join the rest of the girls who had been visited. For some reason, five of the girls stood with the coach, not lining up for this odd ritual. "What's going on over there," Cathy asked Lisa Sellon, one of the Pop Tart forwards whose cell was on the same corridor as Cathy's. "Inspection," grunted Lisa. "What's she inspecting for," asked Cathy. Lisa laughed. "You'll find out in a couple of minutes, newbie," she snickered. The referee trotted across the field. Coach Spears and Captain Argolis went over to meet her. They conferred briefly and then six of the Pop Tarts moved away from the sideline with Coach Spears. "OK, girls, line up for inspection," shouted the referee. The Pop Tarts lined up along the sideline. Cathy, still not understanding what was going on, lined up along with her teammates. Cathy was fairly close to the end where the referee decided to start her inspection, so the mystery of what the coach was doing was revealed shortly. The referee got to her and Cathy imitated the motions of the other girls, bending sharply at the waist and grasping her ankles with her hands. It was over in a moment, but it took Cathy several seconds to process what had happened. The referee had put one hand on Cathy's back to stabilize her and had then reached up under her uniform skirt and pressed her hand deep up in Cathy's bottom, probing her right in the a most sensitive spot with a finger. The thick diaper kept the grope from being too painful, but it was certainly intrusive. And it left Cathy with a lot of cloth caught between her bottom cheeks, which made her very uncomfortable. Cathy stood up, breathing heavily from the surprise of the invasion of her bottom. "What the f***," she exclaimed. The girl to her right, who had been inspected before Cathy laughed. "Why don't those girls get inspected," Cathy asked indignantly, pointing at the cluster of girls standing over by Coach Spears. "They have plugs. They don't need to be inspected," said Cathy's neighbor. "The inspection is to make sure that we don't." Cathy looked blankly at the girl. "Plugs," she asked? "Yeah, plugs. It makes sure that they don't get a brown card." "Oh, plugs," Cathy gasped, realizing what the girl was saying. "How can they play that way? And if it works, why don't they give them to all of us?" The girl laughed. "The Pop Tarts are only entitled to three plugs on the field. The coach and the captain pick the best players, the ones they don't want to lose to brown cards, and give them the plugs." "Three plugs? Why are there six girls standing over there with Spears, then," Cathy asked? "Well, one's the goalee. The goalee always gets the first plug, of course, on every team. The rest are the best players on the team, but only two of them can be out on the field at a time." "Geez, this is totally weird," exclaimed Cathy. With a whistle from the referee, the game got under way. Cathy and the rest of the girls on the sidelines cheered their teammates on as the action moved back and forth across the field. Cathy watched Joan Rimer and Lisa Sellon drive forward with the ball, passing back and forth from one to the other and outfoxing the Dhrystone defenders. They feinted around the right fullback and Lisa passed the ball to Joan. Joan was in a perfect position to kick a goal, with the Dhrystone goalee way out of position. As she intercepted Lisa's pass and kicked it toward the goal, however, she appeared to stumble slightly, missing her shot and losing her balance, ending up on her knees in the grass. A moan rose from the Pop Tart sideline as the opportunity to go ahead evaporated. The referee blew her whistle for time out and ran over to Joan, around whom several of the other Pop Tart front line were clustered. Suddenly there was another disappointed groan from the Pop Tarts and a chorus of laughter from the Dhrystone sideline. Cathy could see the referee pointing off toward the sideline while holding something up in her hand. "Oh, shit," one of the sideline girls said, "another brown card for Joan. She's in trouble now." "Philips, get in," shouted Coach Spears running over and swatting Cathy on the bottom. Cathy had her chance. Elated, she sprinted out onto the field and took up her position. The referee blew her whistle and play resumed. The Pop Tarts prevailed by a score of two to one. Cathy distinguished herself by strong supporting play, assisting Lisa on both Pop Tart goals and receiving a round of applause from the Pop Tart sideline when she was finally called from the field half an hour after going in. Cathy watched the rest of the game closely. The Pop Tarts held on to their lead, giving up only one goal to the Dhrystones. There were four more brown cards, two to each team, and quite a few blue cards for each squad. I guess all the exercise really gets the system going, thought Cathy to herself as she watched a dejected Dhrystone walking off the field after her brown card, her diaper sagging very noticeably below the hem of her uniform. As she stood in line to board the stake truck back for the return to Meridon, the Coach and the Captain came smiling over to Cathy. "Nice work today, Cathy" said Coach Spears. "Thank you," nodded Cathy. "Thanks for the opportunity." "You did great!" enthused Melissa. "We're pretty impressed with your performance both in our intramural games and today. We're going to try you out on the starting squad for a few games and see how it goes," said Spears. "Really? Wow, that's totally wonderful!" exclaimed Cathy. "Thank you!" "Just make sure to keep your pants clean out on the field. We can't afford a girl who get's a lot of brown cards in a critical offensive position, so just remember what happened to Joan today." "Yes, ma'am," intoned Cathy. "I will make sure to be very careful about that. And if you have any advice for me on how to do better on that, or anything else, I'll be grateful." By now Cathy had reached the head of the line for boarding the truck, so her side of the conversation ended as she was fitted with a feeding gag by the matrons. "And, Cathy," said the coach, "by being on the starting squad you qualify for a Meridon varsity letter. I've already sent the word, so you can tell your friends when you get back to Meridon. The coach's parting words filled Cathy with excitement and delight. In moments she was lying on her back on the truck bed sucking rhythmically as cool refreshing fluid flowed into her mouth. I wonder what a varsity letter looks like at Merdon, Cathy mused in silence. I've never noticed any letter jackets. By the time the truck full of exhausted soccer players arrived at the Meridon gym, Cathy's diaper sported a telltale blue stripe. After she stripped off her uniform and protective equipment and deposited them in her locker, she joined the line at the changing room. When her turn came the matron released her diaper locks, allowing Cathy's plastic panties and soaked diaper to drop to the floor with a plop. She slapped Cathy on the rump, sending her into the shower to wash the sweat and pee off. Minutes later she was on the changing table being fitted with a fresh dry diaper. "Congratulations," said the matron. "I see you just got your varsity letter." "Thanks," responded Cathy. "How do I get my letter? I've never noticed anyone with a varsity letter here." The matron giggled. "Don't worry, dear, it's already taken care of." The amused matron refused to say more, leaving Cathy mystified. Cathy returned to her cell about an hour before dinner time. She decided to get a jump on her homework, so she sat down at her desk and got to work. A quarter of an hour before dinner Jessica bustled in carrying an armful of library books. "Hey, roomie," Jessica hailed Cathy, "how did the game go? Did the Pop Tarts win? Did you get any play time?" Cathy pushed her chair away from the desk, rotating to face Jessica. "Hey, Jessica," replied Cathy. "We won, and I got to play almost half an hour. Joan got a brown card and Coach sent me in. I didn't score any goals, but I got two assists. But something strange happened." "What happened?" "Coach told me that she was putting me on the varsity squad and that I qualified for a varsity letter. I've never seen a letter jacket here and the matron who changed me after the game wouldn't say anything." "You got a letter!" squealed Jessica. "That's so totally great! Let me see," she demanded, stepping up to Cathy and raising the hem of her dress. "Hey, stop that," exclaimed Cathy. "What's with that. If you want to see a girl's diaper, just pull up your own skirt." Jessica howled with laughter. Cathy was even more puzzled. Jessica finally controlled her hilarity, "I bet no one ever told you about Meridon varsity letters, huh?" Cathy, irritated, nodded frowning. Jessica giggled. "The varsity letter is a different version of the wetness indicator. When you're blue, the letter is visible on the crotch of your plastic panties. How's your bladder doing? You have anything in there?" Cathy considered, "Yeah, she's pretty full, actually." Jessica exclaimed, "Well, what are you waiting for, silly!" "You're kidding, aren't you?" Cathy asked. "No, I'm not kidding. Would you get on with it, damn it!" Cathy blushed as she relaxed her sphincter, a task she was finding easier and easier as time passed at Meridon. She felt the rush of fluid into the waiting diaper and heard the faint sizzling sound coming from her crotch. To her surprise she found herself getting aroused. Cathy felt her nipples stiffen and suddenly felt the inside of her bra rubbing against them almost unbearably. Jessica stepped forward and lifted the hem of Cathy's dress again, peering at her crotch. Cathy lifted her knees, rotating her pelvis, looking down at her padded crotch. As she watched two blue capital letter 'M's appeared - one right side up and the other upside down. "Hey, congratulations!" exclaimed Jessica. "I'm going to tell the girls," she said as she darted from the cell. In a few minutes the cell was full of girls from the neighboring cells come to see Cathy's new distinction and congratulate her. The party came to an end when the bell for dinner sounded and all of the girls piled out of the room and headed for the cafeteria. A visitor "OK, dear," said the matron to Cathy, "wait here in your cell. When he arrives, they'll buzz me and I'll come take you to the visitor area and put you in the room with him. You'll have an hour together." Cathy sat on the edge of her bed, tense with anticipation. Her diaper was clean and dry and she was wearing a fresh pink-and-white shift. Brad's first visit was today. They would be alone together for the first time in over a year, and Cathy inferred that they'd have some privacy. She could feel the sexual electricity in her body and the developing moisture between her legs. It wasn't pee. A phone buzzed in the distance. Cathy heard the metal door of the guard station open and shut and listened tensely as someone walked down the echoing hallway. She stood up and moved silently toward the door of her cell. Cathy stood at the door of the visiting room. Brad stood across the room, facing the door. He had obviously jumped up from the tatty beige couch when he'd heard the door opening. "Don't just stand there blocking the door," said the guard tartly, and planting her large hand firmly in the middle of Cathy's thickly padded bottom, she shoved her into the room. The door closed behind her. Cathy and Brad stood staring at each other in silence. Cathy blushed and then Brad did. "Oh, Brad, I've missed you so much," blurted Cathy. "Me too, Cathy," he said. Suddenly they were embracing, their mouths merged in a deep kiss. Brad's hands moved downwards. For a while they settled in the small of Cathy's back, then he started down to fondle her bottom. Suddenly he stopped still, his hand at the top hem of her diaper. "What's this," he asked? Cathy took a deep breath. "They keep all the girls here in diapers," she said. "It's part of their plan to rehabilitate us." "Really? Wow!" Brad blushed deep red. "How long have you been in diapers?" "Ever since I came here. The woman who came to pick me up and take me here diapered me before we left. I've been wearing diapers continually, except for when they've changed me, since I got here." "Wow," Brad said again. "How does it feel?" "It was pretty horrible at first, but in the last few months I've at least gotten used to it. When I'm wet it gets uncomfortable after a while and when I'm dirty it's very uncomfortable." "You even wear them to bed?" "Yes, even to bed. They put us in thicker ones at night, actually, so that we don't leak." "How often do they change you? Whenever you use the diaper?" "I wish. No, they change us on a regular schedule. First thing in the morning and last thing before bed for everyone. And as you gain privileges for good behavior they add changes. I get changed four times a day now, which is pretty good. Plus I get changed before every visitor, which is very nice, and after gym class." "So you can be wet for several hours?" "The worst is if I poop after last change. That's at night just before lights out. Then I have to wear the messy diaper all night long. I only did that a couple of times, but it was miserable." "What prevents you from taking them off and just going to the bathroom?" "Well, first of all, there aren't any bathrooms. Second of all, the rubber panties are locked on and we can't unlock them." Brad lifted up the hem of Cathy's skirt and inspected the front of her diaper. He felt the texture of the plastic panties and then rubbed his hand down Cathy's crotch. He tried to slip his finger under the seam at her crotch, but the seam was too stiff. "I guess we'll just have to rip the panties if we're going to get it on," Brad said. "Don't do that," Cathy exclaimed, pushing his hands away from her diaper. "If a girl gets caught trying to undo her diapers or damaging them deliberately she gets punished and then some. They'd strap my hands and gag me and leave me that way for a month if we did that. And they'd probably never let you visit me again." "But I really want you, sweetcakes," moaned Brad. "I've been looking forward to getting into your pants for months now. I'll die if we don't fuck." "Me too, sweetie," said Cathy. "I want you just as much." They gazed lustfully into one anothers eyes. Decisively, Cathy stepped forward and wrapped her left arm around Brad's neck, smothering his mouth with a deep French kiss. With her right hand she began to stroke his erection through the cloth of his trousers. "Mmmmm," Brad moaned, pulling her body to his and crushing her breasts against his chest. His right hand pressed aggressively through the bottom of her diaper as he groped her. They necked and groped one another passionately for many minutes. Again taking the initiative, Cathy unzipped Brad's fly and quickly pulled out his erection, dropping to her knees in front of him as she did so. Before Brad realized what was happening, Cathy had the head of his penis in her mouth and was licking and sucking. Brad moaned with pleasure. Cathy pressed her tongue against the bottom of the head of his penis and moaned loudly herself. The vibrations from her throaty moan, transmitted to his penis by Cathy's tongue, stimulated Brad even further. Cathy felt the telltale pulsating in Brad's penis. She knew from experience that he was about to come. Timing her movements carefully, she put her hands on his hips and at the final instant she pulled her head back, raising her torso up and smothering his spurting erection between her breasts. "Got any tissues, sweetie," Cathy asked. "Sorry." "Oh well. I'll just have to change my dress after you go. No big deal." "Yeah. That was great, Cathy." "Mmmmmm." They sat down on the couch, holding hands. As she sat down, Cathy noticed that sometime during their lovemaking her bladder had let go, soaking her diaper. Oh well, Cathy though, at least I didn't mess my pants. And if I don't tell him, he won't know that I'm wet, either. Their conversation wandered from topic to topic, the casual gossip and chitchat of a deeply attached couple happy to be spending time together. After Brad had left, summoned by a warden who arrived to notify them of the end of their scheduled visit, Cathy sat on the couch and waited for the woman who would take her back to her cell. The familiar discomfort of the wet diaper snug against her crotch was not enough to quench the warm glow of happiness that suffused her. Deep something Brad had left and Cathy was waiting for the matron to come take her back to her cell. She sat on the couch in the visiting room and looked around. In addition to the couch, there were two armchairs covered with the same beige broadcloth, selected more for cheapness and durability than for style or comfort. Though there were no holes or serious stains, the upholstery had seen better days and sagged in places. Cathy heard someone unlocking the door and she stood and moved expectantly nearer to the threshold. "What's that," demanded the matron sternly, pointing to the evidence of Brad's passion, now a large oval spot of damp pink and white cloth between Cathy's breasts. Cathy blushed. "Um," she started, "well, Brad and I got a bit carried away ..." "Is that semen?" "Uh," Cathy stammered, blushing, surprised by the directness of the question, "uh, yes ..." The matron pulled the walkie-talkie from her belt and keyed the microphone. "I need assistance in visitor room five, right away." In the distance Cathy heard a buzzer go off followed immediately by the sound of running feet. Three new matrons appeared behind the first almost immediately. The first matron stepped aside, allowing the new arrivals entry to the room. She pointed at Cathy's chest. "Semen," she said. The front two matrons glanced at each other grimly and strode forward. Each grabbed Cathy firmly by one arm. The third matron held a small cylindrical spray can up and pointed it at Cathy. A puff of mist enveloped Cathy's nose and mouth. The lights went out.

Long before I ever read about Adult Babies I was profoundly urinary incontinent, diapered 24/7. To me it was so comforting to know other nice people actually were willing to pay for wetting lessons and hypno tapes so they could get to wear diapers. It has never offended me that people write about wanting to become incontinent. If they ask me I suggest they retain as much bladder and bowel control as possible. I remind everyone there is no ethical prohibition about wearing diapers when you have control. In fact the Simon Foundation of incontinence is that the subject wet. I conclude that would mean wetting deliberately. What does sometimes twist my didee in a knot is when an ABDL who has control presumes to write as an authority on incontinence. I have learned to ignore such posts. I would also prefer that fantasy about wanting to wet be placed in the wannabe incontinent or story sections.

After months of considering, I finally went to my first AA meeting yesterday (without a diaper if that matters). I am no stranger of AA however. Most of my family are alcoholics. I almost know the 12 steps by heart. But I was quiet and let the "old timers" talk without interruption. They were very kind, honest and welcoming. The few friends I told were praising me for finally going. I hate letting other people down. Today I decided to have another drink.... and another. I feel like a looser already.

I met one today! I'd been home to change diapers at ten and at one. But when I left work today I forget to check to see how wet I was, and I was only wearing one diaper. Usually I wear two. I flooded the diaper on my way to the health food store where I buy my vitamins and chlorophyl. What I didn't realize was that the poor diaper had reached the saturation point where pee was sloshing around in the plastic pants unable to be soaked up by the diaper! So when I went into the store I had two wet spots on the back of my legs. Standing at the vitamin counter and looking for my iron sulfate pills a woman about my own age leaned over and whispered that I probably needed a diaper change! She was one of those motherly types with a sweet smile that makes the sun shine brighter. She smiled and told me she was incontinent too. She's fecal incontinent and puts a cotton diaper inside her disposable to help with all that. We stood there in the isle and talked about being incontinent. She's a nanny for a newborn, and her second job is being a nanny for an older woman who is quite helpless. After talking for a while I said goodbye and paid for my pills and left, very self conscious of those two wet spots on the back of my leg. I haven't leaked in years! It was my own fault. My bibs were in the wash and I don't have any other pants that fit comfortably over two diapers!

Yea, I'm blessed with lots of support (that I'm not ready to use yet right now) I still want to drink and wear a diaper on a lazy Saturday and just be "comfortably numb". I know it sounds like an easy way out, but that's just me being honest.

Hey Everyone!If you aint excited, you better get excited!!! about living a better life...a financially free life!!! I purchased a membership on a home based business online 6 months ago and have been doing so well that I talked my sister into trying it. He is now doing this while off from work. It has been a great income opportunity for both of us. I hope this continues to grow like it is. I want to share this to all of you, I hope you'll like it. God bless to all of us, and more power! And I hope to hear good from you soon regarding this one . Repaid: Edited for content, don't think with one post I'll allow it, and no I'm not bothering to check that it's a scam.

To elaborate for the sake of clarity: The same as I would think about anyone who wanted to go from one state of functionality to a lower one. Whether it would be wanting to go from 20/20 eyesight to being half-blind in one eye and totally blind in the other or who wanted to go from a state of full limb function to being semi-paraplegic or semi-quadraplegicc. in short: Sick Puppy The fact that this question is being asked is cause for concern

It's none of your damn business really, but if you must know, the reason is because there simply isn't enough money. Between astronomical rent, car payments, car insurance payments, school loan payments, his health insurance, gas, utilities, and groceries, not to mention the money it takes to raise a child, there is nothing left. Nothing left for expensive private insurance that WON'T cover people with pre-existings, nothing left to get my divorce from my previous abusive husband, and nothing left for a ring to put on my finger to make it official. I don't go out to eat, I don't buy fancy clothes, heck I'm doing good to buy generic tampax and pads! Who the hell are you to judge me, sticking your nose in the air like a sanctimonious jerk! I'm making the very best of a crap situation, and I've been able to do more than anyone ever expected. I'm not some lazy welfare mom sucking up government money like a leech, I don't use welfare, or food stamps either. I only use the resources I absolutely need, and as soon as I can do so will leave them for people who still do need them. I suppose you treat people in wheelchairs and mentally retarded people the same way. A disability is a disability, whether you can see it by looking at me or not. You are disrespecting things and people you don't even know about. You don't know me, and I sure as hell have a lot more wrong than a broken finger. Just because I don't tell everyone what all my illnesses are doesn't mean they are not valid. I have genetic mental disorders that make it difficult to do some things that others take for granted as daily basic things. I learn to live around it, and do the best I can. I am always improving, always improvising. That's more than I can say for many people with some of the same disorders.

Oh, well that's even better. So you have a decent enough paying job and pay taxes but CHOOSE not to pay into insurance still and just let others pick up your tab on that one, huh? So like, you pay enough in taxes you feel so this should be your free gift from the tax payers? Who gives a rip you're not married, insurance is still out there. You don't even have to have a job to get insurance, duhh! I'm willing to bet the bigger reason you don't get those insurances is they'd cost you money, obviously, and since you are going to be a large user of the insurance due to your condition, it would be very costly. Therefor, let others pay for you in that department. Now that's a DAMN FACT I'm sure and it's still an assumtion. The other question is you put your boyfriend, who mind you is paying his insurance (good boy), and you into a lump sum of paying 20k a year in taxes and SS. Well, for starters that could mean you pay $1 and he pays the rest or there's a split somewhere in the middle but either way it's more about what you make since you're not paying taxes. One thing I just noticed and you may have just slipped but most people who plan on getting married are engaged and therefor he'd be your fiance instead of boyfriend but whatever, neither here nor there. Anyway, of your 20k some of that is SS which if your employeed, the employer typically pays for half of the 15% of your income SS takes and the other half or about 7.5% the employee pays. Home based people like yourself with your own business are required to pay all of it as your the employee and employer. This is your money that "should" pay like as a retirement at some point like a 401k so in theory, it'll be coming back to you and will your disablity, likely soon that later. Regardless, this money you pay in tax and SS isn't used for towards the state paying for your behind to be on their coverage. My point here is, if everyone had your mentality, then Bill Gates could have state paid insurance and he pays more in taxes then probably the majority of the member here on this website combined. Wouldn't that make you sick. I recently saw an article in the paper where millionaires have received unemployeement benefits which people thought were rediculous but in actuality, your employeer pays into unemployement for you so rightfully so you can take from it like an insurance policy no different than any others. I guess what all this really boils down to for me is, don't BS us with your "The ONLY reason I am on state insurance is because until we are married, his employer won't cover me. And I DO work..." when it should really say "I just don't want to pay for private insurance" because that's an option and that's more the reason. Go to the justice of the peace and get married then and have a wedding later. Finally, about the "disabled" thing. From my personal experience, I've seen waaaaaaaaaaaaaay more abusers of the "I'm disabled" claims than people who I can see are truly a "disabled person". I know a guy who broke a finger in the military screwing around off duty who collects a small disability check every month from the gov't. His current job is working with his hands all day long. NICE huh. Watch one episode of "Judge Judy" and be amazed at the number of "disabled" yet fully capable looking people on that show. I love how the Judge makes them squirm like a worm on a hook when she asked "what's the nature of your disablity" and gets ahh, umms and then points out how physically well minded and bodied they appear to be. That's why I say, everyone could probably be considered disabled if they want to be. Some may have a legitimate claim but from what I've seen. It's more abusers than anything so it's definately tainted the way I look at it.

Technically the OP is retarded as she has a mental disorder. I do not and I am entitled to my own opinion of how the system operates as are you but right now it sounds as though your a pot on the stove that has just boiled over. Sheesh! Not everything in my previous post was directed at the OP, just my take on how "disability" coverage is so widely abused. YES, there are legitimate people on it, that is true and I won't dispute that. Some of you are reading between the lines a little too much and pulling things out of the air to come up with an argument. FACT: A lot of people abuse disablity coverage and I gave an example. Sure, yours may be greater than a broken finger but that wasn't the point I'm bringing up there. My point was, this guy gets nearly $250 a month for a finger he broke while screwing off on base and we'll be paying him for that for the rest of his life. His joint had to be fused on the finger but he manages to work a different job all day long with his hands yet is "disabled" in the gov't eyes. If this guy lives another 60 years, the gov't will have paid about $180,000 for his f-up. This is ONE small case I'm using as an example of how others, not necessarily you, abuse the system and I think it's BS! I just didn't like how the OP said the "ONLY REASON" which it's not. I'll bring up another scenario. A family friend of mine owns a FEW business, all of which do really well. They have rental properties, a half million dollar home, a cabin, boat, snowmobiles, four wheelers, newer cars, fifth wheel camper, and about a hundred acres of land. All four of there children are on the states insurance in which I'm paying for. They say insurance is too expensive because they have their own business in which they do not have insurance and do not provide insurance to their few employees. Now isn't that just nice! I get it OP, you're stuggling and I see why you're doing what you are but I'm just on a rant right now because of all the stuff like my scenario above going on. The original reason for the first post was because it is somewhat irratating when someone b!tches about something they're getting for free. Sorry that happened to you in the hospital and it probably shouldn't have but I hope you see my point. It'd be like going to get a free meal at a restaurant, not liking how long you had to wait, you got seated with other strangers at the table and the food was bad so you asked for a refund. I know, not exactly the same (don't need to be told) but hopefully you see my point.

St. John's Wort has no measurable effect according to double-blind studies so save your money. Ditto Ginko Belova, Cheick cridible journals on anything you put in your body You might google up Quackwatch and Pub Med. One of the few good things Dr. Edell does in his reports on such things is cite the source(s).

If people would of supported profiling at the airport only a select few would be subject to this, now everyone has to get strip searched in the name of being PC.... We are the only country in the world doing something this invasive in the name of security...

Christmas will be here very soon. I really hate it. I'm not good at receiving gifts, I don't believe in God etc. So I really don't like all the hype that goes with Christmas. My friends and family don't understand why I'm like this, but I just wish it didn't happen. Is it just me?

Kindly understnad what I am saying. I am saying that this is a case of wishing to be PHYSICALLY DISABLED!!! Am I to believe that you think that a little girl is by nature PHYSICALLY DISABLED? Because that is exactly what your statement implies It is one thing to play a part and another to wish for the actuality. As far as "not hurting anyone", it seems to me that the persons who do this are making light of what the presons who live with the actual condition do not think is fun. So it must bother them to be told that their condition is peachy keen As far as "Judge not that ye be not Judged". There is nothing like haveing principles and standards, is there? Before you think yourself worthy of saying that, let me see you raise the dead. Besides which I am atheistic I am quite willing to be judged, but by my peers, which means at least middle-aged so that they have the capacity and experience to make rational decisions. Also, I have a Master's in Psych, a Minor in History and 15 credits and a strong self-teaching in Philosophy. So if you want to play intellectual Rollerball with me, bring enough medical supplies to treat yourself for several compound fractures. Are you going to tell me that wanting to go from a state of ability to disability is not creepy? "Live and let live" does NOT mean not knowing when something is wrong, sick or whatever, that is called being dumb.

Try to get a doctor to make this possible and irreversibly so. Some years back, as a treatment for a kind of bloackage in my right ear. a doctor prescribed OTC "swimmer's ear" drops. My ENT told me to forget about that after she looked at me and said it would not help and that "if a thing does not help, it does harm" I suggest that the question of whether this is harmful would be to try and get a doctor to make this a reality. It would then seem to me that if a medical person says that it is harmful and will not do it, is not the wish to in fact do so a wish to harm oneself? If that is true then is not that a sign of some kind of dysfunction?