The Problem With Mikey
Mikey was very excited. Tomorrow his father had promised him that he’d be wearing his trainer pants instead of the diaper he always wore. This was a huge event for the 14 year-old, it was in recognition that he’d gone three months without any kind of accident in his pants and was now on the verge of becoming a ‘big boy’.
He’d tried trainer pants before. When he was three, and after a great deal of effort, the potty training had eventually succeeded and his parents, with a huge sigh of relief, had hoped that their oldest son would finally be able to negotiate its use, as well as know when to use it properly. Alas, the training pants had made the boy confident he was becoming a ‘big boy’ (growing up in fact) but, alas, that info had not been delivered to his bowel and bladder. Time after time what looked like success was soon followed by the messy failure contained in his briefs. Diapers were the only solution as pull-ups just weren’t absorbent enough for Mikey’s random but full scale incontinence assault.
His younger brother and sister were both potty trained and had no such problem but Mikey continued to wear diapers and thick plastic pants 24/7, it was the only way to ensure that there was no embarrassment for him and no mess for others to experience. At first he’d disliked having to wear them for school but, after some very messy events in class and in public, the solution was obvious – to be on the safe side he needed constant protection. His school mates had long since run out of comments, and those that did still make them got no response from Mikey and worse, no response from their peers. What was the point of trying to embarrassing someone if they weren’t embarrassed and your friends weren’t party to the supposed ridicule? Besides, if he did the deed whilst in class, he was always allowed to go immediately to the nurse to be changed. He’d put up his hand and, no questions asked, he was excused because in truth, no one really wanted a damp or smelly kid sitting next to them. Had he been brighter then no doubt he could have turned this ‘inconvenience’ to his advantage but Mikey wasn’t like that, he didn’t plot, scheme or tell lies.
As mentioned, Mikey wasn’t the brightest boy in class, in fact it could be said that he was a bit slow. To some this totally explained why he was incontinent, while others just thought he was lazy and just couldn’t be bothered. The difficulty he had was that his younger siblings, 12 year-old Peter and 10 year-old Mary, were both very bright. They were in their top stream at school, were always reading, asking questions and doing things, whereas Mikey often had no idea what was going on around him. He’d happily sit all day in front of the TV watching cartoons and the only books he was interested in were those he could color or were full of pictures. His choice of bedroom furniture was that of a toddler. Where other boys his age would have cars, spaceships, models, pop stars etc all over their walls, Mikey liked animals, he especially liked cartoon animals and those were what greeted you when you entered. He also had a vast array of stuffed and cuddly animals on display. Despite this he was very loving and loyal to everyone. Loved his parents, always happy to play with his brother and sister and was usually welcome in neighbour’s homes, liked by his friends (although often the butt of jokes he didn’t really understand) and could regularly be seen taking the family dog out for a run… he was a normal 14 year-old who mentally could at times quite easily pass as a toddler.
In spite of his cumbersome diaper and rubber pants Mikey was happy. He understood that all this extra ‘attention’ was needed so as not to be a burden on others who had to clean up after him. Sometimes, when the family were all going out together, or he’d gone some period of time with no mess, he was allowed to wear disposables (with tight-fitting plastic pants) which didn’t feel as chunky or as restricting as the thick cloth diapers he usually wore. When this happened he was happy because he hoped that it signalled he was growing up, a ‘big boy’, and overcoming his problem. Unfortunately, as soon as he was home and getting ready for bed the heavy stuff would come out and he was wrapped in a thick, thick diaper and thick rubber pants. He never argued or complained about this return to the status quo but, inside, he was a little crushed that he couldn’t sustain his brief ‘big boy’ status. His mattress had been covered in a waterproof sheet since he had made the transition from a crib to a single bed, so he’d always been used to the distinct smell and texture of his rubberised sleeping arrangements. His parents had tried to make this a fun time and not a punishment but, as slow as Mikey was, he knew it was something he should be over by his age but he just couldn’t help himself.
Doctors, medicine and psychiatrists had all been involved in an attempt to ‘cure’ Mikey, as well as many articles read to try and alleviate his unfortunate disposition. When small victories had been attained, a setback was nearly always close behind and a sorrowful and apologetic Mikey would be sobbing as he sat in his messy diaper with the hope his mother or someone would come and change him. Now the family was used to it there was no trauma involved it was just simply acknowledging the situation and getting Mikey as dry and clean as soon as possible. Sometimes he’d go days, sometimes over a week, without any accidents and everyone would get hopeful but, sad to say, it never lasted.
However, he’d gone three months now without any real dramatic accidents. With an unbelievable effort on his part he’d been able to recognise when he needed to go and had been able to get to the toilet in good time… more often than not. So, trainer pants were going to be tried for the second time in his turbulent toilet-training life and everyone hoped this would signal an end to his problem.
His father had bought some layered, brightly colored pants that looked almost the same as a boy’s regular pair of briefs only slightly thicker. Mikey couldn’t wait to get up, get out of his night time diaper, take a shower and try on his new pants. Now, without either of his parents fastening him into a thick disposable, he was able to pull on the pants himself… and he loved the independence and sense of achievement this small act gave. He even paraded himself in front of the mirror and enjoyed the look of the brightly colored pants (with the waterproof interior) hugging his boy bits. Where once there was an obvious diaper, he now wore his new underwear with pride.
His confidence grew and, although whilst playing with Peter and Mary he found himself having to constantly tell himself to go to the toilet, the weekend was a relative success. Even at night, as an experiment, he was allowed to wear just a pair of pull-ups under his training pants and Mikey couldn’t get over how different it felt to go to bed without his heavy protection. To be truthful, he didn’t sleep very well. He was constantly making trips, unnecessary trips at that, to the bathroom and somehow, the nightly hug his previous bulky protection had given him had made sleep easier and instant. However, snuggled under his mouse, rabbit and teddy bear decorated duvet cover he tried his best to get the rest his parents said a growing boy needed.
Monday morning arrived and he got himself up and ready for school. He wore a different pair of the special trainer pants under his jeans and, like always, looked forward to another day in class with all his friends. Just as he stepped out the door to go and catch the school bus he suddenly felt strange. It was like some kind of fear gripped his tummy and he felt sick, at the same instant his bladder gave way, which was quickly followed by the seat of his pants filling up with a dirty brown liquid. Unfortunately, his trainer pants, as good as they were, could not contain the elements that were so forcefully dumped in them, and soon his jeans and shirt appeared to be absorbing all that his pants couldn’t. A tearful Mikey stood in the doorway unable to move. He was overcome with both the debris of his body and with the shock to his system. It had all been going so well and this was a tremendous setback for all concerned.
After taking care of her sorrowful son, Mikey’s worried mother called the school and then the doctor. After a long chat and a desperate plea for some further help, he recommended she try and get an appointment with a Doctor Mark Thompson, a man who was said to be having huge success in his field of Child Psychology, especially with those who had a similar problem to Mikey.
(Read the Doctor’s file @ http://abdlstoryforum.info/forums/index.php/topic,6102.0.html)
Back in ultra-thick diapers and rubber pants Mikey and his anxious mother were in the Doctor’s outer room awaiting their appointment. Without any fuss Mikey had accepted his diaper situation and was actually playing with another, but much younger, child on the floor as they battled with a couple of dinosaurs. Mikey’s mother, although desperate for her eldest son to grow up and enjoy the things that any teenage boy should be doing, still loved seeing the innocent way he played and interacted with others. The fact that he was most content when doing childish things didn’t seem to matter she just wanted him to be happy and hoped the Doctor had an amicable solution.
Doctor Mark Thompson’s reputation and accomplishments in dealing with the child psyche had come on in leaps and bounds over the past couple of years: Anger, violence, fear, timidity, self-loathing, self-harm… indeed, the entire panoply of youthful psychoses had been diagnosed and treated by this eminent man who had gained extensive successful results in this particular field.
Doctor Thompson read Mikey’s file and after a brief interview with his mother asked if it would be OK to chat with his patient on his own. She would have liked to have stayed but the Doctor said that he often got better results if the subject didn’t have any distractions. He explained to her that to begin with he would just talk with Mikey but that eventually he would like to hypnotise him and see if he could regress him back to the part in his life when the ‘problem’ occurred. This, he pointed out, was often the trigger to where many children developed their fixation, phobia or obsession and, if this can be identified, it offers a starting point to finding a possibly antidote.
Once Mikey’s mother was back in the outer office the Doctor arranged groups of toys around the room and asked his new (and it had to be said, cute) patient what he’d like to play with. As Mikey chose excitedly from the selection, the Doctor couldn’t get over the bulky bulge under the boy’s trousers. It was something he had always liked to see on a happy child enjoying the comfort of diapers and enjoying the lack of responsibility such protection offered. In this case, this rather sweet boy appeared to have no hang-ups about his situation. It may have caused him to waddle slightly but he was definitely not a baby and had managed to come to terms with his situation and deal with its awkward presence. Mikey settled on the floor surrounded by a selection of soft toys, dolls and a colorful kiddie’s jigsaw. The Doctor got down on the carpet with him and together they began to play and chat… and as they played the Doctor slipped in some questions.
He found the boy a joy to talk with. No side to him, no hiding his feelings, in fact, no pretence of any kind. Obviously the boy had some kind of baggage, otherwise he wouldn’t still be messing himself, but other than that the Doctor loved the openness, cheerfulnesss and innocence of the lad.
After their session was over the Doctor took Mikey’s mother aside and suggested that he would like to have her son as a patient at his clinic. This would mean that the boy would be away from home for a week or so but with him being close on hand he could give him regular and continuous attention and assessment, which he hoped would speed the process of solving Mikey’s problem.
Two weeks later, and after 14 days of mess, Mikey’s mother delivered him to Doctor Mark Thompson and the treatment could begin.
Dressed only in his diaper and plastic pants Mikey was allowed to play with all the other similarly dressed kids who were also the Doctor’s patients. Observing how they all interacted gave Dr Thompson a keen insight into many of their underlying problems. Individually, each child was then given one-to-one psychotherapy, whilst others were hypnotised so the therapist could dig deeper. The Doctor loved seeing his charges playing in only their bulky protection. He found that without their normal clothing his young patients appeared less inhibited and he personally enjoyed the spectacle of their colorful, padded bottoms in simple and pure interaction. There was no denying his success with the controversial therapy he used… to some it might appear diametrically opposed to the norms of a child’s self-worth. However, the effectiveness of his procedure was the main criteria he was judged by and he was way ahead of anyone else in this area of psychoanalysis on this important count.
Under hypnosis the Doctor regressed Mikey through various stages of his life. He was a dream patient; quick to put under, willing to reveal all, no sense of anger, betrayal or thankfully any indication of sexual abuse. Indeed, as Mikey lay on the sofa wearing his ultra-thick padding, he looked as innocent, happy and relaxed as any toddler might who’d just been put down for his afternoon nap. It wasn’t long or difficult to get to the bottom of Mikey’s trouble, the only thing was, how to fix it?
Mikey’s voice got quieter and more childish the further the Doctor delved, this was normal and it was at the age of three when something happened. As Mikey remembered the Doctor wondered if such a rather small event could actually be the root to his continuing dilemma… was it going to be that simple?
Mikey explained in his own childish way:
He was standing in his room. He was wearing only a soggy diaper and looking at his reflection in the mirror when his mother came in and announced that he was going to have a baby brother. As she was changing him she was saying that now he would have to be a ‘big boy’ and help look after the new baby who would soon be arriving. She emphasised that his diaper days should soon be behind him and he would be both a ‘big boy’ and a ‘big brother’ and would be responsible in helping look after the new arrival.
The Doctor realised that the young Mikey just wasn’t prepared for such an obligation and was instantly scared at the prospect of having to be so responsible. That image of the soggy diaper stuck in his mind as the last link to him being treated ‘special’ as from then on, his little baby brother would hold that position. Three year-olds can take in an awful lot that parents say and who don’t necessarily understand or comprehend the effect their words have. Some can take it in their stride as they grow up, some relish the responsibility, while others, like Mikey, dread being told they are expected to act in a certain way. He diagnosed that Mikey was subconsciously still trying to hold on to his ‘special’ relationship but at the back of the Doctor’s mind he understood and, although he saw the problems, he really couldn’t blame the boy.
Reluctantly, over the next few days, the good Doctor slowly coaxed Mikey away from his childish dependency. He wished he could have taken the lovely lad away and, like his own teen-toddler Little Robbie, let him enjoy being a tot permanently. However, Mikey was no cast-off or neglected child, he was a precious and loved member of the family despite his affliction and so he saw it as his duty to try and help the loving family as much as he could.
When Mikey’s mum came to collect him on his final day, he was no longer in thick diapers, plastic pants or any protection at all. Mikey was alas no more intelligent but he was now able to go to the toilet when he needed to and understand that he no longer required a diaper. He was proud of his cartoon briefs and wore them with confidence. However, the Doctor did inform his mother the reason for her son’s dependence on diapers (even if the boy was unaware of the cause himself) and that occasionally, in future moments when things feel like they might get on top of him, he may again crave the security of his thick protection. It would be a form of security blanket, something that comforts and grounds him in a possible stressful situation. It was only a possibility, but he suggested that they keep a supply handy… more for that reason than the fact that he’d start wetting again. Those days the Doctor confidently predicted were over.