People said my 21st year was going to be the year of transitions. They 
said I would be on the path I would chart for the rest of my life. And 
that I would find happiness through it all. This is from my 21st 
birthday, as I type this on the eve of my 22nd.

Here I present A Year in My Life:

Part 1: The Travel

Letting go of the lives that I once held dear, being able to make the 
step from the warm concrete into the cold air-conditioned Greyhound 
station, I made my step. I left everything, lost everything, and had 
nothing but the desire to make the most out of life that a life could 
offer. Here I was, all I had was the clothes on my back, and what 
little I could carry in my new backpack. The tent, sleeping bag, 
camping gear, and clothes weighed next to nothing compared to the 
stress and fear that caused me into such hasty actions. I walked down 
the loading bay into the line to board. I notice that my Goodnite 
swelled with my nerves releasing again, without my notice.

Months I spent on a floor, then we acquired a couch on the couch, then 
to a pull out bed. Crammed 5 to a two-bedroom apartment. Even though I 
worked, there was drama. There was nothing pleasant here other than a 
notion that I wasn�t hated, and no one wanted me dead. Here I was at 
peace, aside from the lack of sleep, and fear of wearing any diapers so 
that what I slept on was not damaged. Here in this time, in this place 
was nothing, an empty shell of fake emotions and acquaintances. Here 
there was no strength, but the gyrating of a weakness that would spread 
as a plague through every aspect of my life.

Now there is, on the Fifth of Novemember, this day, when I arrived 
home, bringing a friend in tow to meet my roommates. Because of drama, 
because of a passion that strained everyone, there was nothing for me 
to do but hit the road. I left after a depressing cup of coffee. Two 
thousand dollars out and living on the streets. I have nothing again 
but what I came with, nothing but the backpack, all of my acquisitions 
I locked into my trunk, and again left in the hopes that I could send 
for them when things became stable.

Part 2: The Desire

When I was sleeping on the floor of the office to the porn shop I came 
up with the idea that I would leave and make some money in porn and 
find a job in a city where there was someone I knew, someone I had 
talked to online. You would think I would have a better grasp on 
things, but no, I decided to use ABY and found a couple people. One, 
however was the most hopeful, and even though he was freshly 18 and 
lived at his parents� house, and I, being 22 and already tired of the 
state of things, it was nothing but a disappointment. Fourteen hundred 
miles and another few hundred dollars later I was dumped off in a hell 
I can never forget.

The building was old. There was no heat. The place was run like a rehab 
facility because the bitch who ran it was on probation. All of us 
smoked pot and drank in our rooms, which was a violation of all the 
rules. Across the street from the police station and down the block 
from what would be my future sustenance on many levels. I boarded a 
local bus and went to my job. It was a lovely upscale apartment 
complex. The people were absolutely lovely and I had to get in front of 
the camera and strip down while they took motion pictures and still 
shots of what genetics had to present. I was without real diapers, 
going moment to moment hoping I could control everything. The people I 
met were overall nice. However, there was one or two that I will 
mention. One was a good friend who I left behind, who introduced me to 
my salvation when things progressed. Here was nothing but hate and 
fear, and a notion of the likes that are right out of the movies.

Part 3: My Affirmation

When I dealt so poorly with the old man, who was 35 years older, from 
January and March to this year, I contemplated all manner of releases. 
Slitting my wrists to packing up and leaving on one of my paychecks. 
Such loathing and repulsion, this con inspired every fiber twitches, 
and hearing anything like what he spoke of make me want to vomit. There 
was no peace but I had my diapers. I was wet every night. From November 
I was in Goodnites. He picked up a couple packs for me when my burger-
flipping job was scarce with the money. I could not keep up with 
everything emotionally, waiting in vain for a partial hope of dealing 
with this bastard until October. I wanted him gone. I wanted to be 
gone. If this is what life offered me, fuck that. Then while I was 
looking for an out at the beginning of February I was talking to an old 
acquaintance from my distant past.

He had befriended me again. With all my problems and stress, his heart 
went out, and he didn�t know we were as friends before. Then we traded 
pics. Some of what I was from the last few years I put up in different 
storage files online, pulled those out, and showed who I was. Nothing 
of my old self was reflected in my eyes, in my face, or in my 
mannerisms. I have no longer anything but a few tattoos, a necklace, 
and pair of shorts from my childhood and youth. Everything, and these 
pictures, was taken from me. Nature and her elements with the heat, 
spawning the roaches from my crackhead neighbors, to the building that 
had the broken radiator, and the rats that came through the walls. I 
had every last bit of my life stuffed into one room. One small room, 
and that room began eating my life. It began as a plague. But these 
things my friend didn�t know. So when we spoke, when my hell had come 
to the lowest peak when I was in that hotel room. Working a job that 
has given me ulcers and further injured my back. Dealing with a 
roommate who caused every bit of disgust and hate that I had left. My 
friend kept to his word. He offered me a place. He was truly my friend. 
We set the date of my move 3 months off.

Part 4: The Cleric Redeems

My salvation from this nightmare came a night when I was getting more 
discouraged working a long shift. My manager sent me to get a drink 
from a local store. Here was this guy I hadn�t seen since November. He 
was sweet and nice, and told me to meet up with him when I got off 
work. So I did. I saw him at the all-night cafe, went in sat with him, 
and we talked. Caught up on what has happened over the last 4 months. 
That night, after he heard my explanation of what had been going on he 
offered me a place to stay with him until I could get my own place, 
which would have happened within a few weeks. Here out of nowhere, a 
kindness that I didn�t know existed. He was letting me stay with him. I 
kept from him my previous plans to move out of state. It was a week 
before I got paid. But the night before I got paid I had a choice to 
make. Because of him, I became aware that my Patron was Lady Justice 
herself. Themis had laid claim on me. So with my prayers to her, and to 
the rest of the Greek pantheon, I sought an option. Stay, be stuck, and 
make the best of a bad situation. Or leave and start over. With 
friends, a big bro would keep me in diapers and change me, and treat me 
like I was little, like I had dreamed of since I was a kid. Or stay and 
hate every day with my wetting problem getting worse.

Part 5: Money Comes

The months of my initial departure, the weeks I spent between the 
streets and a room and a bed with no heat. The hell of dealing with a 
hateful old bastard, and finding a friend. Now it came down to how much 
I had on a paycheck. I had the money. I made the call, and from the 
last 3 days, because of situations with my current roommate who wanted 
sex in exchange for my staying with him. Here it was, a ticket, a fresh 
shot. My friends agreed to take me in early. I bought the Greyhound 
ticket, the last one, I hope to ever buy. Here it was, I packed up, 
again.....

Part 6: The Last Journey

Here I was on the bus an hour outside of my new home. I had just sucked 
off the guy I had been talking for two days on the bus. He just got me 
off, as I changed back into my Goodnite. I though about how nothing of 
the last 21 years was going to bring anything negative to this new 
life. I have been diapered 24/7 at current, and the progression of my 
stress and wetting has rendered me incontinent. My big bro changes me, 
he and his boyfriend cuddle with me as much as possible. They treat me 
as if I were little. I sleep in a thick diaper and plastic pants, 
sleeper, with a plushie cheetah, and a size-five pacifier every night. 
During the day, my Abri-Forms can last through the workday. I haven�t 
been happier. All of the struggles to stay alive to this point have 
been worth it. I await the moment when I can look back on this story 
years from now, and smile, and say there was nothing like the journey 
to this point. From the death threats in high school, from the 
abusiveness of emotionally unstable parents, from getting screwed out 
of thousands of dollars, from false friends screwing me over, and old 
men taking advantage of the situations I was in. Here I am as I type 
this, in a soaked Abri-Form, sucking on my paci and waiting for my 
birthday to come tomorrow. I am going to close this chapter. I look 
forward to what the rewards of kindness and happiness can bring. I love 
my furry family. I look forward to meeting more.

My big bro is a little fox kit, his mate a cheetah cub, and my friends 
are wolves, dragons, and a panda. Maybe the next post will be on 
that....But this story is a part of my life for the last year of 
transitions, and pain, and to this joy that it has been 21 years of not 
knowing. Tommorow I am 22, and this is a year, that I will never 
forget, as I have been born again through my pain, and my lady has 
brought me through with the best intentions of all things. I am finally 
living a charmed life, where my magic is the act of life itself. To my 
friends thank you, To my family who have taken me in I love you. And to 
those I had to leave behind. We shall be friends, but our paths are 
different. And to the world, I am Happy, that I am FINALLY ALIVE.

-Lost In Time