My mom discovered my "stuff" many years ago when I was in college. I had a psychotic break when I came home one weekend and when I went back to school, she searched my room finding makeshift diapers and gay porn. She made an appointment for me at a large residential mental facility outside of Princeton where I had to see a psychiatrist. This lasted for several weeks until I talked her out of sending me. I knew my parents couldn't afford what it was costing and that was my out from crazy land. I call it crazy land because they did electro-shock therapy and lobotomies there, back in 1970. I had seen what that did to a person, like in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and I didn't want to be one of them.