This winter has been a rough one for me. Every winter I develop seasonal depression, due to the decreased light and outdoor activities. This can be really devastating for me, especially combined with my already-there symptoms, such as mood swings, chronic boredom, impulsivity and already long standing periods of depression.
Not having the light of the sun that I so desperately crave can really bring me down hard. I lose interest in most things I used to love. This year I found myself losing interest in video games, my spirituality, sewing, and writing. Losing interest in the things I used to go to to feel better can be very difficult for me. It makes me feel like I have no where to turn to, nothing to do, and nothing to put my energy into. So instead I end up mindlessly scrolling through my phone, hoping for the motivation to come to me. Throughout this tough winter, I have been attending regular therapy sessions and adding skills to my tool belt to help aid in my down swings as well as my up swings. If you don’t know what I mean when I refer to “up and down swings”, I’m talking about my bipolar disorder and how it presents itself in periods of long term mood swings. I have depression-based bipolar, meaning that my down swings are more frequent than my up swings and also stick around much longer than my mania would. Most of the time, I end up using my skills without even being aware of it. They are engrained into my brain as a way to help me cope when I am having extreme negative emotion. Throughout my time with my therapist, my partner has also been attending a few sessions with me here and there. We make those sessions count, throwing everything holding us back on the table. Being open and honest with our emotions and problems may feel very vulnerable, and maybe even scary. But if your therapist, like mine, has your best interest in mind, it will work itself out in time. I learned these skills back when I was younger and going through a particular type of therapy called Dialectical Behavior therapy, or DBT for short. DBT taught me many, many things. For example, one thing it brought to light is that I think in complete black and white most of the time. There is no grey area for me, it is either all or nothing. (i.e. thinking that my partner either loves me wholly, or hates me wholly) This presents itself in my life as an extremity, causing me great difficulty in making daily life decisions and other aspects of my life. This is just one of the examples that was brought to my attention during that intense year of rehabilitation. A few of the skills I have use often:
If you are struggling right now, don’t be afraid to reach out to a friend or counsellor of some sort. This can be the first step toward recovery, and often the hardest one. I remember when I first told my mother I needed help, all the way back when I was 12 years old. It was one of the most difficult things to admit, both to myself and to someone else. But speaking up about your problems is nothing to be ashamed of. Having mental health issues is common, and can be treated through many different methods. Don’t keep putting it off. Recovery is a vital step in any one persons life, as well as mine. I look forward to the day I can look back at these days and think, “Everything worked out, just as I knew it would.” Thank you so much for reading. This was a slightly different post than any of my previous writings. I sincerely hope you enjoy it, as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, send any questions, comments, and concerns to [email protected] I would love to hear from you.
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The thought of being diapered excites me to no end. Anytime I have a diaper, I am sincerely happy. I can’t put my finger on what exactly it is about them. There’s the headspace they put me in, that of an over-eager child who doesn’t have a care in the world. There’s the feeling of them, the crinkly noise that sends butterflies down my spine. They send me into a fantasy world that is safe, warm, and happy.
The feeling of being diapered is like hitting the reset button on my brain. It takes all my worries, anxieties, insecurities, and throws them away. Far, far away from me. When I am diapered I am floating, free from my adult life and allowed to be the babbling, over-sensitive baby that I am. As of late, I have been buying myself packs of diapers and wearing pretty regularly. My time in them has been evenly split between adoring them while still in the box and adoring them while on my body. Just kidding, but you should see me when I get a new box in the mail. I turn into an over-excited toddler with one thing on their mind: getting dipped up. Speaking of changing, let’s talk about it! I think the easiest way to get the best shape when diapering yourself is to stand against a wall, letting the wall hold up the back of your diaper. It’s a bit harder by yourself, but after the first few times I started to catch on pretty quick. Most of the time, I diaper myself (I’m trying to get good at it, haha). Occasionally my Daddy changes me, but he always watches me for new strategies and sometimes out of pure interest. Changes are very special to me and I look forward to when I can do a perfect tape job! Recently I spent my first ever 24 hours diapered. It was filled with lots of emotions, including negative ones. Over the course of the last few weeks of being diapered on and off, I learned that diapers can help me get away from adult thoughts for a little while, but eventually, I have grown up things to do even if I’m wearing a diaper. This made me have a little bit of an adverse reaction, because, as my Daddy and I discussed and figured out tonight, I am trying to escape my problems out of fear of failure or being reprimanded. I wasn’t sure if I was going to include this finding in my blog. But I decided it’s a good thing to share because while BDSM can assist in healing from trauma and triggering events, it can also help you avoid your current reality and problems that need to be faced head on. It’s not healthy to run away and only makes a bigger mess to clean up down the line. I have said this before and I will say it again: mental health is incredibly important to me. If I am not stable mentally, I cannot and do not want to participate in kink activities. It’s important to put your comfort before anyone else’s, so go ahead and use that safe word. Go ahead and ask for a break, and damn right go ahead and say no. Make sure to put your own needs before anyone else’s, after all, you can’t take care of anyone if you aren’t taking care of yourself. Thanks for reading! Have a different opinion than me? Do you do things another way? Want to discuss our perspectives? I’m glad to respond to respectful emails over at [email protected]! ~ Theia I am a LGBT individual. I am non-binary, and in terms of sexual preferences the label I feel most comfortable with is gay, though some people may argue that I’m not ‘really’ gay. I guess you could qualify me as pansexual. I have struggled with my identity all my life, from childhood on. It is something I have lived with from the moment I was born, there is no way around it. And finally, I’ve decided I’m okay with that.
When I was young, I knew (then as a cis girl) I had a strong attraction to other girls. They were beautiful, soft, and made my cheeks red. I had never seen public displays of affection from a woman couple in my young life, so something in my brain was telling me my attraction was utterly wrong. I was disgusted with myself, and totally at war with my own thoughts. I felt hopeless, nasty, and like everyone would laugh at me if they found out. So I never told anyone, and that was that for a very long time. When I was around 11 or 12, I met a girl named Juleah. She had colorful hair just like me, and wore dark clothing. I was obsessed on sight. She was beautiful, with short, cropped hair and chubby cheeks. I had never been on a date before, and I was seriously terrified, but I asked her to go out with me anyway. She said yes, and for the next few months we were glued to each other’s hip. This was incredibly exciting for me, as I said before, she was my first date, relationship, any of that. I got to explore my attraction to girls with her, and fully realized that I think women are gorgeous, exciting beings in which I could really have deep connections with. After that relationship fell through, I continued to fall for beautiful girls and have meaningful relationships with them. This was a learning experience for me, and what I learned was that I was allowed to have this attraction, I was allowed to have these feelings and most importantly I was allowed to be whoever or whatever my heart desired. This was incredibly hard for me to learn, and honestly? I’m still learning it everyday that I continue pushing forward with my identity in the forefront. My identity is incredibly important to me, and I will never hold back for anyone or anything that stands in my way. I will be as openly gay, non-binary, and queer as I want to be at any given moment. This is my life and guess what? I have total control over it and no one can tell me how to live. I am myself, and I’ve decided I’m happy with that. If you’d like to talk with me about this, feel free to shoot me an email at [email protected]. As long as you are respectful, I am wholeheartedly interested in hearing about your perspective, especially if you are LGBT. As always, thanks for reading and see you next time! ~ Theia Well, 2019 was very difficult for me. I changed my behaviors, thought patterns, and much, much more. I admitted to many, many mistakes, toxic behavior patterns that I inherited from my family, and discovered many things about my trauma, which turned into making unforgettable breakthroughs with my therapist. I got a new job, even if I hate it, and I passed all my college courses. At the end of 2019, I have been with my partner for over a year and seven months now, and we are getting closer everyday. On top of everything else, I started venturing out into my local kink community towards the end of 2019 and had a fucking blast doing it!
I am wholeheartedly looking forward to 2020, the new decade, and all that is to come within it. I know that if I work hard towards my (attainable and sustainable) goals, I can make not just this year, but this decade my bottom bitch. I believe in myself, because if I didn’t, what would it all be worth? Anyway, here are my fully attainable goals and resolutions for the new year and decade. Some of them are obviously kink related, and some are life goals. I hope you enjoy and take inspiration from what I have written here. 1. I will speak up about my needs, wants, wishes, and turn ons more often 2. I will start camming regularly (at least once a week) and make profit from it eventually 3. I will regularly (at least once a week) make content that I enjoy 4. I will start regularly (at least once every two months) buying diapers for myself 5. I will sit down and write for at least a half hour three times a week. 6. I will post to my blog at least twice a week. 7. I will attend more classes and kink meet ups in my local (or Philly) area. 8. I will further explore both my submissive and dominant head-spaceses, especially that of a little and pet. 9. I will actively put time into my wants, needs, and passions whether that is kink or not. 10. I will continue to use mindfulness/active thinking to succeed in bringing balance to my life. 11. I will attend more concerts than in 2019, which was…0. 12. I will further my relationship with my lover, finding deeper connections to each other. 13. I will save up money…however much I can. 14. I will work towards moving out of my abusive house. 15. I will work on my spending habits and budgeting. 16. I will collaborate with great content creators that I respect. 17. I will make friends that are respectable human beings. 18. I will get out of my dead-end job. 19. I will pass all of my college courses, and study when needed to. 20. I will set up and maintain a schedule for myself so that I am organized. Thank you for reading! I hope we can all attain our goals for this new year, and that we are all ready and willing to accept the change that is sure to come. Have a great week and see you next time! ~ Theia Last night, I experienced something that hadn’t happened in a very long time. I felt sexual when I was little, but I wasn’t actually age regressed. I was able to enjoy my sexuality with my Daddy while having fun in little space, which turned into an eye-opening (and enjoyable) experience for the both of us.
Early in the night, when we first got home from running errands all day, I asked Daddy if he would put me in a diaper. Which he promptly responded with an “Of course, baby.” and we went on with the changing. From there some boring stuff like chores happened, we sorted the laundry, put all the groceries away, but I got to be age regressed when doing it. Soon, we were in our enclosed porch room smoking a pre-roll from the dispensary. I was in a baby romper and warm house boots, he was in his boxers and a t-shirt looking casual. Under the blankets, we were watching the Office, talking, and enjoying the joint. I was laying with my head in his lap, and upon getting up, my diaper (which was scrunched up between my legs at the time) rubbed juuuust the right way against my clit. It sent tingly waves down my spine and into my core and I wanted to rub it right there over and over. Instead, a light bulb in my head went off and I felt a bit weary. Turning to my Daddy, I told him what happened, saying something along the lines of “I want more” and “I want you”. He reassured me that this was okay, and we could keep going if I wanted to. We discussed a few key points and then went on with the scene. When his cock began getting visibly hard in his boxers, I became encapsulated with it. I was already playing with my saliva as he took his cock out. Flipping onto my stomach, I blew raspberries with my mouth and dribbled the spit onto his dick. We both giggled at my playfulness. I took my time getting his cock nice and wet with my tongue, licking the shaft from base to tip several times. In a moment, I pulled the head into my mouth with a smile. He watched me eagerly, holding my hair up as I went. I was kicking my feet in the air as my head bobbed up and down on his cock. I hummed a little tune on his shaft, having fun with the vibrations against his skin. After a little while of that, I audibly popped my mouth off his cock and stated that I had to use the bathroom, but I didn’t want to ruin my diaper yet. He looked into my eyes when he spoke, “Go pee outside, pup.” My heart fluttered at the sound of his words, as this is something that really gets me going. We got off the couch and he helped me wiggle my way out of my diaper. Upon unlocking the back door, the cold air hit my barely-clothed body and I shivered. Taking a few steps into the grass, I looked back at my Daddy. He had his phone out with the flash on, which only made me the tingles in my cunt worse. I squatted near his feet and held onto one of his legs for balance and security. Looking up into the camera, he cooed sweet words as I began to piss in the dirt below my feet. I felt so unimaginably small in that moment, it was everything I could have asked for and more. I started buying collars when I was single and interested in kink on my own, rather than with a partner. I grew quite the little collection of my own special collars, each one beautiful in it’s own way. I had never had a symbolic collar until the relationship with my Sir grew notably.
When my Sir ordered my collar, the wait for it to arrive was complete agony. Each day it was on my mind, every so often bubbling up from the back of my brain. I was not allowed to track the package myself, which only made things worse. When it first arrived, I don’t believe he even told me. If he had, it would’ve only made me more impatient. When I first laid eyes on the collar we chose, the emotions swelled in my throat and eyes. It was a strong, nearly overwhelming experience for me. My eyes traced the incisions in the delicate looking leather, focusing in on the sweet pink fabric revealed underneath. My gaze then reached the small, silver post that held the O-ring to the collar. I was in awe of the privilege to wear this symbol of my submission. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the dark leather collar, I just wanted to feel it on my skin as soon as I could. The first time he wrapped it around my neck and I felt the buckle against my skin was bliss. It felt so right, like it was meant to be there and I was missing it all my life. I couldn’t believe the feel of it, it was so soft yet firm. I had never had a collar of such luxury, it made me feel like a prized pet. Upon receiving the collar, my Sir and I didn’t have a collaring ceremony. But, knowing what I know now, we probably would not have had one anyway. When I think about having a collaring ceremony, my mind comes to the fact that I do not feel ready to have one yet. I say this because of the thoughts I have on myself as a submissive. I feel I am not whole yet. I feel I still have much work to do before I can become a great submissive to my Sir. I will admit, I am mentally ill. But that is nothing to be ashamed of, really. I am in therapy, and medicated both naturally and through nasty pills (I hate taking anti-depressants). I know that one day, with the help of my wonderful therapist and much effort on behalf of myself and my Sir, I can become not just a wonderful submissive but a well balanced person as a whole. Yes, I have a collar currently. I wear it nearly everyday, and it means the world to me. But I feel that this is only my first collar of my dynamic. Such as a training collar, this is the part of my partner and I’s relationship where we get to know our dynamic. Where we come together as two separate individuals and develop our own unique language, meanings, and roles. This part is so incredibly important to me. As I watch our dynamic begin to come together, different things falling into place over time, I imagine what it will be like when we are longer down the road together. But I can’t help and be grateful for everything I have with my Sir now. Thanks for reading! Have a different opinion than me? Do you do things another way? Want to discuss our perspectives? I’m glad to respond to respectful emails over at [email protected]! ~ Theia I am primarily a little, not just in my relationship but in my day to day life. Being little is completely non-sexual for me, and age play is one of my hard limits. I tend to ‘regress’ more often than not.
Age regression is when someone reverts to a younger age in their mind, whether that be just a few years younger than their current age, or into toddlerhood and infancy. They may do this for a number of reasons, such as a coping tool for stress, or this may happen during a therapy session with a therapist, or it may even happen spontaneously for some people with mental health diagnosis who were suddenly triggered. I personally regress due to my diagnosis, it can happen when I am triggered or I can induce it with different sensory and child-like activities. Due to my past experiences, I suffer from chronic PTSD and borderline personality disorder. I’m not going to get into those this time around, as I am saving mental health for another post. On a lighter note, some things that help me get into the mindset are getting dressed up in clothes that make me feel small, being taken care of by my Daddy, watching kids’ shows, using things like sippy cups, bottles, pacifiers, diapers, and mittens, and having my stuffies close by. Something I have learned as I go on is that I mix my age regression with my BDSM lifestyle in the fact that I use kink products from kink-centric shops like Lil Kink Boutique and Onesies Down Under. These shops sell only to adults that practice the BDSM lifestyle. Though these items are primarily used for sexual purposes, I personally do not participate in sexual acts while in little space. I adore these products for other reasons, such as the feeling it brings me or the aesthetic. There is definitely a difference between age regression and caregiver/little (CGL, DDLG, DDLB, MDLG, MDLB). The way I look at it is that CGL is a kink and age regression is something someone will do at any age, regardless if they have a caregiver, and regardless if they even know that age play exists. As for CGL or DDLG or whatever it is to you, that is between two or more consenting adults who are role playing together either to be sexually satisfied, or emotionally satisfied. For example, I have been age regressing for the majority of my young life. It was an escape from my reality at the time, like a bandage for my anxieties. Whenever I was stuck with dark emotions and didn’t know what to do, I turned toward age regression in order to cope with my stress. Being in that headspace brought me great comfort and aided me in my journey toward recovery. When my 18th birthday came, I moved toward the DDLG community in hopes to find like-minded people who will support me in my behavior. I didn’t have anyone to talk to about my love of child-like activities, behaviors, and items. I haven’t been in the community all that long, but I really value the connections I have made so far! Thanks for reading! Have a different opinion than me? Do you do things another way? Want to discuss our perspectives? I’m glad to respond to respectful emails over at [email protected]! ~ Theia Last night, my brother called me and said something was wrong with his car. Naturally, I began getting ready to leave. As my partner was sitting in the chair at our desk, I sat across from him on the bed. I noticed his cock was showing a bit through his sweatpants. I leaned forward and started touching him, caressing, trailing my fingers over the silhouette.
Soon after that began, I got on my knees and asked to see his cock. He pulled it out, looking at me with bedroom eyes. I don’t remember how it all started, I was invested in the moment at the time. But, at some point, I popped my mouth off his cock and said to him, “Count down from sixty. If you stop counting, I’ll stop sucking.” After making sure that was okay, we went back to the task at hand. He was holding my long hair up with both hands around my head. Eventually, he began thrusting into my throat. As I bobbed my head on his cock, a rhythm got going soon after. “Forty-six…Forty- ah! Forty-five…F-forty four…” He was so desperate he could barely focus. I had to stop a few times. Soon, the hands in my hair grew tighter and tighter, synching down on the strands until my head was in his hands like a rag doll. He took my head and yanked me down around his cock, pulling me back up and down, up and down, faster, rougher, harder. We had both given up on counting by then, and I was practically begging for his cum, even with his dick down my throat. We became a mess of moans, tears, and saliva. “I’m- I’m gonna cum!” He exclaimed to me. I snapped my head up, looking into his eyes I began to roughly jerk his cock. In a moment, he was cumming all over me, but then something different happened. “I’m gonna pee! I’m gonna pee myself!’ He shouted. I held my gaze to his eyes and continued to jerk him off until his urine squirted into my mouth, and got all over my clothes. It was warm, wet, and all over me, but I didn’t mind one bit. And that’s the story of the first time my Daddy ever pissed in my mouth! Lately, my curiosity has brought me to service submission. There are many different ways to serve someone, and it’s all up to personal preference between the server and the one being served. Probably the most commonly talked about ways to serve someone are performing household duties such as cooking and cleaning, boot-blacking, tea or coffee service, cigar service, and so on.
Now, like I said it’s deeply personal to those participating in the relationship. You can give service in sooo many ways. For my Sir and I, we have been experimenting with personal grooming, food service, and things he needs help with. I will go more into this later. For now, I will reflect on what service is for me. Service is seeing the little smile on my partner’s face when I am bringing him food he didn’t ask for. Service is the “thank you honey”’s and the “good boy”’s I get when I do a good job. It’s the break-out smile I wear when he lays his hand on my head and tells me he loves me. For me, service is more than just being told what to do and simply obeying. I provide service for my Sir because I want to. Because it makes me feel good. I have a naturally compassionate nature and my love language is already rooted in acts of service. So, naturally, the act of serving my Sir is not a difficult task for me. My point is, I actually enjoy serving my partner, and if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be doing it. Some of the things my Sir and I have been implementing into our routine are that I act as his personal groomer. I wash, condition, moisturize and brush his beard. I twist his hair after I have put product into it. I will shave for him when he requests it. Some tasks that lean more toward domestic chores: I am to make him a hot drink and meal whenever he should want it. I am to do any chores he leaves for me by the end of the day. I am to keep the bedroom tidy, and take care of the animal's food and drink. As we continue to move through this process of experimentation, I expect to take on more tasks for my Sir. I can’t wait to find out where this journey will take us! Here are some resources from around the web I have found to be useful:
Thanks for reading! Have a different opinion than me? Do you do things another way? Want to discuss our perspectives? I’m glad to respond to respectful emails over at [email protected]! ~ Theia “Little boy, come here.”
Hands and knees on the floor, crawling Closer and closer to you, my Sir Hand wrapped around my leash, pulling me Closer and closer to you, my Owner “My pretty pup, look at you.” Batting lashes and puppy dog eyes Soft whines and swaying hips His hand on my head, my eyes closed I’ll be forever at your feet, my Sun |
AuthorMy name is Theia, a non binary submissive with a growing passion for kink and BDSM. |