Dr_J

I'm also me on there: Dr_J Feel free to add me, just please tell me you're from here so I know who you are

I saw that idiot post that somewhere...but I can't for the life of me remember where I saw it. I almost replied to him calling him such.

Thank you very much, DailyDi. Words can't express how grateful I am to have support and understanding from everyone!!

Hey everyone, Thank you so much for all of your support and resources you've been sharing with me. It really means a lot!!! I know it won't be easy, but with your support I know I can do this.

Hey everyone, I hope this is an appropriate place to post this. Some of you know me, but I'm sure a majority of you do not. But for those that do, you know me as a nice, usually happy or mellow guy. I like to joke, I like to make people laugh, going to Grad School, living life and writing my stories. But what just about nobody knows is that I've been battling depression and some other kind of mental illness (though I don't know what that is yet but will find out hopefully soon) for almost five years. It started when I first entered college, and I foolishly told myself, "It can wait until I'm done with college...I have to keep going!" And so I did. And it worsened. About six weeks ago, my depression got to the point where I had contemplated suicide. A lot. It was from a mixture of things, one that includes feeling like I'm worthless for not being able to have a successful job despite working so hard for my 4 year degree. The job I had until three weeks ago had been giving me little to no hours of work per week and that didn't help. About two and a half weeks ago, something happened that caused my depression to surface even more than it usually does (in most cases, it'd go away after a few days). The feelings worsened and now they do not go away. It's as if it's stuck on the surface. Sure, I can still laugh and talk to people, but as many people describe it, it's like there's this huge weight on my chest that's very painful, and it radiates throughout my body. I find myself forcing myself to get up and do things but still put on a smile and tell everyone I'm okay. While this sounds unfortunate, the good news is that I'm finally seeking help. After five years, I am seeking counseling/therapy and am taking some steps to find out what exactly is wrong with me and what I can do to overcome it. Honestly, these past six weeks have felt like I've been in a mental coma, like I'm some kind of zombie just wandering around in hopes of getting over it. A lot of mental illnesses run in my family (Dad's bi-polar and has Borderline Personality Disorder, his parents/siblings suffer from similar illnesses). I'm only 23, so I feel if I get the help now, I can enjoy the rest of my life and not ruin relationships or myself any further than I already have. I'm not sure what's compelling me to write this in this forum. Perhaps it's because I want people who might be under similar circumstances to know that I've been there. I've been to the point in my life where I wanted to end it because I thought the pain was so much that I physically and mentally couldn't stand it anymore. But I did, and while I'm still hurting, I'm doing what I can and must in order to keep living. With that said, I thank those of you who have listened to me in the past and helped me talk through some of the problems I have. I also thank those of you who don't know me for taking the time to read this. Sincerely, Dr_J

Hey everyone, so here's a quick update: I'm in Grad School, which has essentially destroyed all free time. This means that in addition to not being able to write, I also have had little time for friends and family I have about one month left before I'm done for the semester, which will enable me to continue working on this story at a much quicker pace. However, the good news is that Chapter 26 is done Please accept my apology for being so slow and bear with me as I may take a while to get the next chapter up. Chapter 26 Before I actually went into therapy, there was something about the idea that scared me. I was always under the impression that they’d certify me absolutely insane and suggest that I spend some time in a mental ward and take a slew of pills that would alter my personality. I was never so wrong in my life. The initial search for a good therapist was my biggest challenge. I did not want, by any means, a male therapist. There was no way I’d be able to talk to another dude about my infantilism and everything that had happened between me and my father. That narrowed my search to only a handful of places. I then found a place that “instilled religious values with therapy to ensure an enlightening, healing experience.

You just need to tone it down as a million people have either told you or have been wanting to tell you. Allow me to further expand. I'm sure there are more people like you. But the thing is, some of us have been members for quite some time. Lots....and lots...and lots of people have posted similar things in the past, and we've called them out on it just about every time. It's gotten old, to say the least. The fact that you believed it was a phenomena means you're either still new to the lifestyle or perhaps you truly find similar stories 100 percent believable. Darkfinn said it best when he said there were people similar to how you've been acting who make us look bad. The folks who are trying to make a difference can't make a difference when we've got horny, fantasy-infused people coming in and telling us these seemingly outrageous stories. Even worse, you defended it and did not accept the blame when you clearly upset quite a few of us. Allow me to teach you a thing or two about image restoration theory (thank you Grad School). This is a theory that states when the public finds an individual at fault, even if said individual is not at fault, that individual's reputation is damaged. It takes work to rebuild your reputation and regain the trust and acceptance of the rest of the people. I won't go into detail on the strategies involved since this would be a four page description, but I will say that you need to take corrective action. That is, tell us what you're going to do to make sure this doesn't happen anymore, apologize (a plain, "I'm sorry for upsetting everyone and will try not to do it again in the future."), and rebuild your image. This can take anywhere from days to years, depending on the severity of the act. Call me a dork, but Organizational Communication has allowed me to analyze your situation, and I'm merely making recommendations for you for future reference. Your first step in realizing people are/were upset with you should've been a simple apology. The next step should've been editing your post and deleting it. Finally, if you're not sure HOW to write on these forums (etiquette, etc.), look at the rules, observe other posts, and see how most threads are written. Get to know the "culture" of our community so you can apply it and contribute to our community in a good way. This concludes my lecture/rant/analysis.

Ohh okay Well I'm equally liking the AB/DL and Caregiving parts, so perhaps it's a win-win?

So as some of you may know, I'm an AB/DL. However, recently I've discovered that I'm quite a good caregiver. Like, far better than I thought I could be. I'm just wondering if this is normal, or is it different for each of us?

Yesterday was my first day working at Best Buy. Well, it wasn't working, per se. Rather, we had a Culture Day where we learned all about the company, its policies, and the people we'd be working with. There was one major part that stuck out to me, though. It was the video and discussion on Best Buy's code to accept Diversity. This acceptance included people of various races, sexual orientations, ethnic backgrounds, and other things of the like. They claim to have an open door, non-judgmental policy when it comes to our backgrounds. And it makes me wonder: how on Earth would they react if they knew about me? The entire time all I kept thinking was that they truly do seem to be accepting of our individual lifestyles...but there has to be exceptions, don't there? Would they really look at me the same way or accept me if I told them that I was involved in this kind of thing? My mind tells me maybe, but my heart tells me no. I imagined myself talking to the managers about the possibility of there being a group related to the AB/DL lifestyle (with exceptions of course...those exceptions being that we obviously wouldn't be allowed to wear in the workplace, etc.) and them telling me I was fired a few days later. I imagined everyone looking at me peculiarly and whispering things behind my back. I envied the current groups Best Buy has formed. I envied their ability and freedom to feel comfortable about themselves without fear of judgment in the workplace (Although I know judgment will always take place...but the managers I've met all seemed strongly for all types of backgrounds and lifestyles. They were all open-minded and told us to have open minds) We have not yet been able to receive such an opportunity though, have we? We're still frowned upon by a majority of the public and are called things like "freaks, sick-minded people, and pedophiles." We're told we need to see shrinks and get help. We're sometimes talked about with such animosity that it makes us fear the worst. I chose not to speak to a manager about it, for obvious reasons. But I hoped. And I still hope, that one day maybe I won't have to hide. Given the circumstances, one involved in this lifestyle can only hope.

I've noticed quite the "dry spell" over there. Nothing new, no new stories or images. Perhaps a lot of them are spending their time here? hehe

Hmm, to make him feel like a baby. What has worked for me is being talked to as if I were a baby. You know, cooing and using baby talk. Does he have baby things like bottles and pacifiers? Those may also help. I also wonder if perhaps "burping" him after feeding him would help? Again I'm not too sure, but it might be worth a try. But that's good that you're both open-minded and experienced. And if he keeps saying you're doing fine, perhaps you are, even if it doesn't feel like it. Again, I'm glad to hear you're trying to get into the role I had an ex who had little interest in this lifestyle, and she definitely made it seem forced whenever she'd take care of me.

Well for starters, welcome to the site Secondly, the fact that you came to this site and want to make your boyfriend happy is heartwarming to say the least! You said you've never really had an interest in the AB lifestyle before, but what do you need help with? Getting used to it? Getting into the "mommy" role? Or understanding an AB? I think an important thing to ask is, what does your boyfriend need/want out of this lifestyle? Each of us is different, so I can't say I know exactly what your boyfriend's needs and wants are, but I imagine he wants you to care for him in the same manner you would an infant or toddler. Diapering, feeding, cuddling, etc. However, I think it's important for both of you to set some ground rules. Compromise, if you will. Perhaps there are things you're not comfortable doing just yet, since you're new to this and all. I'd say your best bet is to try things a little at a time. So maybe sometime you could start off with simply feeding your boyfriend or something like that. If you're comfortable with it, then maybe try adding something else? If you can give some more information about what more you'd like help on, there are plenty of people, including myself, who will do our best to help you ~Dr_J

Coming from you, Fozzy, that really does mean a lot This story took me many years of planning and research. I sifted through all of the thousands of ABDL/Infantilism stories on the web as a lurker, saw which ones worked and which ones didn't, and came up with this idea. My goal is to make a fictional (95 percent fictional, anyway) story seem so real that the readers can't tell which parts are real and which aren't. It's strange, too. Of the many stories I've written/ am writing, this is by far the longest one. I also wanted to make sure I wasn't writing some sexual fantasy as you mentioned. Honestly it's very cliched and in most cases poorly written. Instead of adding that element to this story, I added the human element. The reader can see that John Morrow, while an infantilist, is not much different than your average person. He struggles to accept himself, has family issues, and other things like that. Again, thanks for your reply and I'm glad to hear you like this story.

I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one. I really thought someone had hacked my account and became frightened

I just tried getting into the Live Chat, and I receive an error that tells me I'm already logged in. Is that a technical bug or did someone hack my account?? I've changed my password, but that hasn't helped any. Please let me know what I should do Thanks! Dr_J

Chapter 25 Stillness lingered in the air as I drove towards Jill’s. I was in the eye of the storm, in my car, refusing to look back at the damage that had been done up to that point. Jill became my main focus during that drive, and so did building up the courage to confess that I had almost ended my life and that I needed help. What would she say? Sure, she promised she’d love me no matter what, but how would she react when I’d tell her I tried to kill myself? And how would I go about telling her? I practiced the words I would say for the entire duration of the drive. It always seems so easy when you practice, but it becomes almost impossible to say the right words when the moment of truth arrives. When I pulled into Jill’s driveway, all I could think about were the possible outcomes of our conversation that hadn’t even come into existence yet. “You tried to fucking kill yourself?! How could you?!

I'm more irked by the whole "yearly" lifetime membership. That is just beyond sensible.

Wait...how can a lifetime membership be yearly? That defeats the whole purpose of a lifetime membership.

Thanks everyone! Your support is very much appreciated!!!!

Thankies!

Yes! I will officially be taking on the MA in Communication program! I got the call Thursday and have been amped ever since!

Here is the much anticipated 24th Chapter! Sorry about the wait! It's been hard to write, both because it's a touchy subject and because of college. Chapter 24 Not in a million years did I think my father’s life would end so soon. Neither he nor my mom ever mentioned that he was having any complications or health concerns. I couldn’t really fathom what my mom had told me on the phone. I was confused at first, as if my brain couldn’t compute what had happened. Death’s Black Hand took him swiftly and far too soon. You might think my father got what he deserved, and while I was upset with him for everything he’d said and did, he was still my father. I still loved him. When I’d gotten off of the phone with my mom, Jill asked me what was wrong. My hands trembled violently as I said, “He’s dead.

I'm glad you like this so much! The father is very understanding...a shame that his demise came too early for John to continue to try salvaging what little they had left. But this will make John's life take a turn for the worst. And yes, I do feel brave enough to publish it. Perhaps not under my real name, but still, it will be published. I want them all to know about this. And by writing it this way, with that realism that John is a man, too, I think it will help people realize that we're not much different, aside from this lifestyle.

Yes, it HAS taken me this long to write this chapter, and you will see why. Again, as I warned you the last time, these next few chapters are very upsetting, but they're needed in order to progress the story. I apologize for such a long wait, but the good news is that with this damned chapter finished, I can finally move on and complete this story once and for all! So, here it is! Chapter 23 Three days in the hospital was all it took before I was ready to leave, although the doctor was a bit hesitant to release me. Sitting in a hospital bed to get better as opposed to sitting in Jill’s bed to get better didn’t make much of a difference to me. After all, I was given my antibiotics and instructions to get better. That was all I needed. Mom, dad, and the doctor still insisted that I take the semester off to get better, but I knew what would happen if I did that. I’d get caught up in a job, and by the time the fall semester rolled around, I’d lose interest in returning to college. I had to at least make an effort, and since I was on good terms with most of the instructors in my field, I was sure they’d cut me some slack. Despite the numerous offers my parents made to stay with them until I recuperated, I still chose to stay with Jill for two reasons: the first being that I was instructed to rest in bed for at least a couple of weeks, which would’ve meant that had I stayed with my parents, there’d have been no way for me to see her, and the second being that I didn’t want to stay in the same house as my father. Time had to tell whether we’d make amends, but until the outcome revealed itself, I wanted as little to do with him as possible. That is, at least until my emotional wounds mended. The smell of Jill’s house, that combination of cinnamon and fabric softener, was far better than the smell of antiseptics and latex. As a matter of fact, everything about Jill’s house was better than the hospital. The bed was more comfortable, the food didn’t taste like crap, and I was with my girlfriend the entire time I recovered! And let me tell you, Jill really took taking care of me seriously. When she wasn’t working, she waited on me hand and foot to make sure that I only had to get up when absolutely necessary. She also babied me on a weekly basis, which included baths and being fed meals in the bedroom. If I ever become old and decrepit and am required to remain in bed for extended periods of time, I’m making sure I get the same exact treatment. Being babied not only made me happy, but I also think it contributed to a speedy recovery. By the end of the third week, I’d felt a hundred times better than I did when I first left the hospital. Classes started only a few days later, and I’d managed to walk around the house when Jill wasn’t around to practice for when I was back in school. Two of my courses were online, so I only had to be inside of a classroom on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The rest of my time would be spent in my dorm so I could rest up and make a full recovery. I’d even talked to my professors about my situation. Both completely understood and offered me three extra days of absence if I needed them. When moving day arrived, Jill helped me pack what little I had into my car and my mother had agreed to meet me at my dorm to help me set up base and unpack some of my things. An hour and half later, we arrived at college and got my things to my room. My mom of course showed up late, but she made up for it with a massive stock of chicken noodle soup and a new feather quilt. Since I’d left most of my things in my dorm during winter break, it didn’t take long for me to settle back in, and surprisingly it only took my mom asking me twice if I was sure I didn’t want to take the semester off before she gave up. I remember she reluctantly left that day, almost as if she’d felt I was making a huge mistake. I didn’t let it get to me, though. Jill, on the other hand, asked if she could stay with me that night. HIT’s Spring semester was always set up so students could either return on the Saturday or Sunday before classes started, and so Martin Luther King Day fell on the first Monday of the semester. It sounds odd, but hey, it worked. None of my roommates had shown up yet, so Jill and I had the place to ourselves. Nothing beats a wintry afternoon in a cozy living room with the woman you love, especially when you’re still recovering from an illness. She gave me the special treatment that afternoon. The only time I moved from the couch was to go to the bathroom. Jill cooked me soup when I felt hungry, ran her fingers through my hair while we watched a movie, and cuddled up close when I felt cold. And, of course, she babied me. After all, we wouldn’t get to see each other as often with college starting. I was just glad I’d be finished in another year and a half. Maybe it was the illness, but I really got tired of college. Still, I knew I couldn’t slack off just yet. The finish line was getting closer, and there was no time to futz around. My lovely girlfriend babied me exceptionally more than usual that night. She took an extra long time with the diaper changes, baby-talked my ear off, and fed me nice and slow. I think it might’ve been because we wouldn’t be able to see each other as much, what with school and all. The night ended almost as soon as it arrived. It was a sad moment for both Jill and I. Until I recovered, I wouldn’t be able to drive back and forth to see her, and with her varying work schedule, there was no guarantee that she’d be able to visit every weekend. We were both stuck between a rock and a hard place with no room to budge. The only way out was to work together, and that’s exactly what we did. We talked on the phone every few days to avoid the dreaded silence and boredom of a once-a-day phone call. When Jill missed me, she’d send me a video message or we’d simply use our webcams to see each other. It was these things that gave us just enough room to get out of the rut we were in. By the beginning of February, I felt normal again, with the exception of my voice still sounding a bit gruff. I could take full breaths without my lungs hurting, I wasn’t coughing up anything nasty, and the antibiotics I was given were all used up. Even the doctor was surprised when I made a second visit so he could see how I was holding up. The urge to point in his face and say, “You were wrong!