SimCo
Est. Contributor
- Messages
- 192
- Role
- Adult Baby
- Diaper Lover
- Little
I wanted to share an experience I had with my little side coming up during my first experience with psychedelic-assisted therapy.
I have been in treatment for years for what were presumed (by psychiatrists) to be depression and addiction. Over the past five years, I’ve come to recognize that all of my mental health challenges were manifestations of complex PTSD, primarily because of my very difficult childhood growing up in a dysfunctional and alcoholic home. To say that shame literally WAS my identity for my whole life would be an understatement.
My little side was actually only one of many dimensions of my shame-bound identity, but my desire to wear and use diapers has always been my deepest, darkest secret. I got caught a few times as a very young child, until I finally was able to stop after one especially humiliating event because my parents treated me with utter disgust and contempt. I told two girlfriends in college, and neither took it well, and I felt even more shame and self-disgust afterwards and never mentioned it again. In all my years of therapy (going on 10 now), I’ve never discussed ABDL with a single therapist, psychologist, or peer in recovery. ADISC has been my only outlet to express my ABDL identity.
Recently, I took advantage of the opportunity to engage in psychedelic-assisted therapy with a trained therapist and shamanic healer (unofficially, and out of the country). I came ready after six months of preparation with her. I was not allowed to speak during the journey, having been instructed to keep my words inside, and let only emotions out. One of the most important instructions I was given - over and over - in the months of preparation was, no matter what comes up during the journey, LET GO and ALLOW.
About 30 minutes after I took the medicine, I began to see a woman appear in my mind’s eye (my eyes were blindfolded the whole time). She was much larger than me, with long dark hair, tanned skin, an ample bust, and she was wearing a traditional dress. She was most definitely not my mother, but I understood instantly that she was THE MOTHER, in the cosmic sense.
I then noticed myself as an infant baby, wrapped tightly in a swaddle so my hands and arms were secure. Instantly my mind associated this with the sensation of wearing a full diaper, and I felt the stirrings of arousal in my diaper area. I instantly began to flood with shame, wanting desperately to push these thoughts away, afraid that I might become aroused in front of my therapist, or worse, to start crying or baby talking or confessing to my ABDL desires.
As soon as the shame began to arise, however, I heard the mother say to me, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, little one.” Instantly, the shame inside me broke. So too did my arousal (for the rest of the journey anyway). I then saw myself nursing at her breast, but then that somehow shifted until I became the mother, and was then looking down at myself as a baby nursing from my own breast. Then, and this is the best way I can describe this, I went into her breast and became the milk. I felt the milk as part of my body, and hers, and of all things. In a childlike, pre-verbal way, I understood that milk to be a mother’s love, and felt it connecting me to all things.
Many other things happened in the journey after that, but several months later I have still internalized the idea that “there is nothing to be ashamed of.” And I am regularly trying to bring myself back to that place of mind where I could give, receive and BE the unconditional love of a mother for her child. My sense of shame around my little side, as well as every other facet of my identity, has substantially eased. I am getting lots of attention from the opposite sex that I have never experienced (I’ve been celibate for over a decade), I think just because I’m not showing up to the world from a default state of shame.
This did not “cure” me of my ADBL side, but it showed me that there was nothing wrong with me that needed curing in the first place. I am not a problem to be solved, no matter what my identity contains.
Thanks to everyone for holding space for all of these years. We all deserve love and acceptance, most importantly from ourselves.
I have been in treatment for years for what were presumed (by psychiatrists) to be depression and addiction. Over the past five years, I’ve come to recognize that all of my mental health challenges were manifestations of complex PTSD, primarily because of my very difficult childhood growing up in a dysfunctional and alcoholic home. To say that shame literally WAS my identity for my whole life would be an understatement.
My little side was actually only one of many dimensions of my shame-bound identity, but my desire to wear and use diapers has always been my deepest, darkest secret. I got caught a few times as a very young child, until I finally was able to stop after one especially humiliating event because my parents treated me with utter disgust and contempt. I told two girlfriends in college, and neither took it well, and I felt even more shame and self-disgust afterwards and never mentioned it again. In all my years of therapy (going on 10 now), I’ve never discussed ABDL with a single therapist, psychologist, or peer in recovery. ADISC has been my only outlet to express my ABDL identity.
Recently, I took advantage of the opportunity to engage in psychedelic-assisted therapy with a trained therapist and shamanic healer (unofficially, and out of the country). I came ready after six months of preparation with her. I was not allowed to speak during the journey, having been instructed to keep my words inside, and let only emotions out. One of the most important instructions I was given - over and over - in the months of preparation was, no matter what comes up during the journey, LET GO and ALLOW.
About 30 minutes after I took the medicine, I began to see a woman appear in my mind’s eye (my eyes were blindfolded the whole time). She was much larger than me, with long dark hair, tanned skin, an ample bust, and she was wearing a traditional dress. She was most definitely not my mother, but I understood instantly that she was THE MOTHER, in the cosmic sense.
I then noticed myself as an infant baby, wrapped tightly in a swaddle so my hands and arms were secure. Instantly my mind associated this with the sensation of wearing a full diaper, and I felt the stirrings of arousal in my diaper area. I instantly began to flood with shame, wanting desperately to push these thoughts away, afraid that I might become aroused in front of my therapist, or worse, to start crying or baby talking or confessing to my ABDL desires.
As soon as the shame began to arise, however, I heard the mother say to me, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of, little one.” Instantly, the shame inside me broke. So too did my arousal (for the rest of the journey anyway). I then saw myself nursing at her breast, but then that somehow shifted until I became the mother, and was then looking down at myself as a baby nursing from my own breast. Then, and this is the best way I can describe this, I went into her breast and became the milk. I felt the milk as part of my body, and hers, and of all things. In a childlike, pre-verbal way, I understood that milk to be a mother’s love, and felt it connecting me to all things.
Many other things happened in the journey after that, but several months later I have still internalized the idea that “there is nothing to be ashamed of.” And I am regularly trying to bring myself back to that place of mind where I could give, receive and BE the unconditional love of a mother for her child. My sense of shame around my little side, as well as every other facet of my identity, has substantially eased. I am getting lots of attention from the opposite sex that I have never experienced (I’ve been celibate for over a decade), I think just because I’m not showing up to the world from a default state of shame.
This did not “cure” me of my ADBL side, but it showed me that there was nothing wrong with me that needed curing in the first place. I am not a problem to be solved, no matter what my identity contains.
Thanks to everyone for holding space for all of these years. We all deserve love and acceptance, most importantly from ourselves.
