Date: 09/6/99 11:06:21 PM Name: Anonymous Email: Subject: A true story This is a true story, and after talking it through with countless shrinks, I finally came to grips with it, and it has helped me to understand why I became an AB. To start with, my parents had problems, but I suppose tried their best to raise me. I was an only child and I my mother was so fond of telling me, it almost killed her to give birth to me. She was in her mid forties when she had me and back in the early seventies, that was almost unheard of. She was a large woman, I don't mean fat, although she wasn't thin. I mean she was over five feet ten, and even taller than my father, who was just over five six. My grandfather was actually less than five feet, who I unfortunately took after. I did finally make it to five two, so I suppose it could've been worse. I was always small, until I was thirteen, my mom used to pick me up while we were watching television and hold me on her lap like I was a little kid. If I squirmed or put up a fuss, she would always say "looks like someone didn't get enough sleep last night" and would put me to bed, so I just let her hold me. I always thought that was worse than the other stuff. She would constantly put me in the basket in the supermarket when we went shopping, the kids from school saw me on several occasions and those kids really let me have it at school. The only thing that really saved me was the fact that I was always really great in school and would help kids cheat on tests and correct their homework in the morning before they turned it in. Anyway, my mom would go down the diaper aisle and ask me what kind of diapers I wanted and then go into a long dialog about how cute all of them looked. To put this in perspective, I was only forty inches tall when I was eleven and weighed about thirty five pounds. Usually she would end up getting diapers with things like Mickey Mouse on them. She would make me wear them at night, even though I only wet the bed maybe once every other week. After dinner each night she would say "go get mommy a diaper" or just kinda show up with a diaper in one hand and the "bag" in the other that she kept all the diaper stuff in. She would grab me by the waist, force me down on my back and take of my pants and slap on a diaper and then she would lift me into a standing position and put my feet through the leg openings in the plastic pants and say "okay, pull them up the rest of the way" like I was a baby. She used to baby-sit for my cousin jimmy once in a while, he was three when I was eight. One day my mom was giving us a bath together. She took me out and put my diaper on, then she took Jimmy out and just put pajamas on him. I said it wasn't fair, and I was so humiliated that he got to dress like a "big boy" and I was stuck in a diaper. To make matters worse my mom thought it was cute to have Jimmy check my diaper to see if I had "stinkied it". The humiliations continued until I was twelve, when even she finally realized that I had to grow up. Looking back on it, I can't believe these things happened. Today it would be called abuse. Well, thanks for listening. Maybe I'll post more when I have some time. Web Forum © by Bravenet Web Services