Recently I’ve had the misfortune of being diagnosed with “Dependency personality disorder” on top of everything else I deal with. I say misfortune because, speaking from a practical stand point, I don’t see this as a disorder or something that causes issues in my day to day life, not always anyway. I feel like this is a disorder that could be both detrimental and beneficial, depending on the person. Now as for me, if I’m being honest with myself, it is a detriment to my well being and overall quality of life as it stands now, but I don’t see it as impossible for it to become something truly blissful.
Becoming dependent on someone is a sign of ultimate vulnerability and trust, in my opinion. It’s a gift that deserves to be cherished by someone who enjoys being needed, and despite the hiccups and arguments I occasionally have with my fiancee, she more than provides this feeling. It’s a security feeling, it’s what’s safe to me. I ENJOY belonging to someone, I ENJOY being owned. It’s not something I find shameful or feel is ultimately self-destructive to my life.
Make no mistake, it can be destructive, but it isn’t necessarily so. In my emotional state, it can be a bit of a nightmare to deal with me. My head becomes chaotic and jumbled, the things I do don’t make any sense, are irrational and potentially harmful to myself, I argue, I fight, I get scared, I cry and I cut myself. This is the negative of having this ‘disorder,’ but I’m working towards having it become more of a positive thing.
I could never be a slave again; yes you read that right, “again.” But, I won’t deny that BDSM and ageplay are very much integral to my life, they aren’t just things I couldn’t do without, but they also happen to be things I enjoy living in 24/7. They aren’t just in the category of what I am, but they’re also who I am. I enjoy being someone’s personal pet or doll or little girl, it allows me to let go of any inhibitions and troubles of my life in order to have a brief moment of vulnerability with someone I trust with my very soul.
I’m proud to be owned by my fiancee, I’m proud that she is my caretaker and I am her little. I’m proud that in a sea of bad breakups, molestation, abuse, neglect, abandonment and contempt I could find someone as wonderful as her that I CAN be dependent on and I will never, ever see this dependency as a disorder that needs to be fixed. What I struggle with is balance, temperence, moderation. I don’t struggle with disorders and afflictions, I don’t need medication and I refuse to take it. What I need, what I’ve always needed in my life is someone I can love and give my very soul to.
My soul isn’t in mint condition anymore, it’s no longer a first edition. It’s been reworked and patched up, it has bent pages and a broken spine, but it’s still my soul, and it’s still as priceless as ever. Should I gift this to someone, should I entrust them with something so precious that not even a thousand faberge eggs could compare, it deserves to be honored and respected, I deserve that.
I could never be with someone who doesn’t accept these aspects of my life. I could never be with someone whom I have to hide certain parts of me just to please them. Sometimes I’m needy, sometimes I cling and depend. Sometimes I’m little, sometimes I’m a pet. Sometimes I’m a mythical water fairy that wants to fuck the biggest dragon I can find. This is my psyche, and for better or for worse, it’s who I am and I will never shy away from it, I will never deny it as a part of me.