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Oh Me Oh My! OmiOMy's Rambles

I was thinking...

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I have two therapists. One is my main for my PTSD, bipolar and schizotypal. The other is for my gender counselling. And I've had a few months to think of a thing, and I've decided —

I'm not going to tell my therapists about my Little side or my diapers.

My therapists, both of them, are pretty conservative. The one that I see for the PTSD, I had to explain what nonbinary genders were, and that took up the entire session (in my defense, I couldn't bear another day of being misgendered). Compared to that, this is...

Well, this is apples and coconuts! I wouldn't even know where to begin.

It's just simpler if I just... Don't.

On the one hand it probably sounds like a big cop-out. "Look at zir, ze's too scared to talk about it!"

Well, listen. It's not interrupting my work life. It's not interrupting my social life anymore (it used to, back when I first started tooling around with cheap pull-ups). It's not getting in the way of family life — haha I'm estranged completely from them for unrelated reasons. And I've never had the dreaded binge-purge cycle. And, more importantly, I don't feel bad about it. Like... At all.
Basically, I've got this under control pretty well.

It took a few months to get to this point, though. I lurked here, read the articles. Some of them twice, three times. I bought my cloth diapers, knowing that meant I was in it for real.

And I loved it. I didn't feel like a train wreck. I felt good.

The dry beds at night (and at midday naps) were great, too. I mind waking up with a wet diaper less than a wet bed.

It's a breakthrough, yes. But do I need to tell them about it? Not necessarily. As conservative as they are, it would go over like a lead zeppelin.

This little breakthrough will be just for me.
Tags: diary

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