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5-15-25 Diaper diary
5 months ago
Trying to live my best life
On my chest 5/15/25
Finding time to write and excuse the typos. I'm sort of on vacation so academic me is taking a back seat.
I'm packing up my dorm, my diapers, and my computer slowly. It's a mixed feeling. On one hand, it's the end of a journey, filled with a lot of “until we meet again, I hate goodbyes and farewells. It implies a finality to things. But like Frodo throwing the ring, the dragon being slain; a war is won and now the journey home soon begins.
I'm mostly reflecting at this point. About two years ago I was rocking cloth diapers and now leaving with a case and a half of diapers. How I spent my time in folsom getting changed in public, or how many friends I made. The people I lost, the family I found, and the nose piercing. I felt like I began to shed an old version of myself. They where very secretive, anxious, and such. Yet I feel like that old me want's to crawl back into my life. I lacked a lot of boundaries and I tried to do a lot of things by myself.
So like I did tell folks about my bedwetting situation. It felt like a great weight off my shoulders, but pandoras box was open. Now I know im overthinking, when I am worried that my parents will be shocked by the extra boxes, or the monthly boxes that have to come to home. I really don't have a choice.
But the potty ban*.... (restriction)
So, I originally called it a ban because word count and a silly attempt to mask the fact that I was too chicken shit to say the words “hey I need help.”
I figure if I “gamified” my struggles it would entice folks. It's dumb as hell. I'm a working artist in need of mutual aid. Yeah, I may be a kinky fucker, yes I was into diapers and stuff before all that. But the health issues is very much real.
I'm between jobs, working on things to make, forms to fill, and while I do have cloth diapers, ngl they're starting to show their age. Specifically the plastic pants.
I need to stop being in a race against this idealized version of myself. It's built off of this unrealisitc standard and its not rooted in self love. I feel like I'm still looking for approval and validation Like the last time I posted some writing stuff. I don't want to be in this situation anymore but at the same time I have to do what I can til I can do better. Which means I have to start doing things. Specifically making my openings. I'm so damn tired right now. I basically did an academic marathon.
So I'm gonna practice something today. I'm gonna honor the may 19th deadline for the potty restriction. But as soon as the 19th hit I'm done doing that. I'm gonna offer commissions like normally, but I am also gonna simply ask to donate to my padding fund or my throne.
throne link : https://throne.com/aesthecorgi
Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/H2H86B6T
Finding time to write and excuse the typos. I'm sort of on vacation so academic me is taking a back seat.
I'm packing up my dorm, my diapers, and my computer slowly. It's a mixed feeling. On one hand, it's the end of a journey, filled with a lot of “until we meet again, I hate goodbyes and farewells. It implies a finality to things. But like Frodo throwing the ring, the dragon being slain; a war is won and now the journey home soon begins.
I'm mostly reflecting at this point. About two years ago I was rocking cloth diapers and now leaving with a case and a half of diapers. How I spent my time in folsom getting changed in public, or how many friends I made. The people I lost, the family I found, and the nose piercing. I felt like I began to shed an old version of myself. They where very secretive, anxious, and such. Yet I feel like that old me want's to crawl back into my life. I lacked a lot of boundaries and I tried to do a lot of things by myself.
So like I did tell folks about my bedwetting situation. It felt like a great weight off my shoulders, but pandoras box was open. Now I know im overthinking, when I am worried that my parents will be shocked by the extra boxes, or the monthly boxes that have to come to home. I really don't have a choice.
But the potty ban*.... (restriction)
So, I originally called it a ban because word count and a silly attempt to mask the fact that I was too chicken shit to say the words “hey I need help.”
I figure if I “gamified” my struggles it would entice folks. It's dumb as hell. I'm a working artist in need of mutual aid. Yeah, I may be a kinky fucker, yes I was into diapers and stuff before all that. But the health issues is very much real.
I'm between jobs, working on things to make, forms to fill, and while I do have cloth diapers, ngl they're starting to show their age. Specifically the plastic pants.
I need to stop being in a race against this idealized version of myself. It's built off of this unrealisitc standard and its not rooted in self love. I feel like I'm still looking for approval and validation Like the last time I posted some writing stuff. I don't want to be in this situation anymore but at the same time I have to do what I can til I can do better. Which means I have to start doing things. Specifically making my openings. I'm so damn tired right now. I basically did an academic marathon.
So I'm gonna practice something today. I'm gonna honor the may 19th deadline for the potty restriction. But as soon as the 19th hit I'm done doing that. I'm gonna offer commissions like normally, but I am also gonna simply ask to donate to my padding fund or my throne.
throne link : https://throne.com/aesthecorgi
Kofi: https://ko-fi.com/H2H86B6T
