Care Dependent Identity @caredependentidentity - Tumblr Blog

Flowing sensations: A preoperative guide for Flowly™ SecuStent™ recipients

(Medfet, dubcon, incontinence, diapers, institutionalisation)

Disclaimer: This work of fiction mentions the usage of real-world medicines. Absolutely do not take this as medical advice or attempt to replicate: the usage of the medicines is intended as comedically overkill.

Introduction

If you are reading or being read this guide, it means that your legal caregiver has elected for you to be fitted with a SecuStent™ device. Indwelling SecuStent™ devices are a type of medical implant that are surgically affixed at the bladder neck sphincter, which is the muscle holding the bladder closed to prevent leakage of urine. Once inserted and affixed, the SecuStent™ will hold the sphincter dilated, allowing unimpeded flow of urine from the bladder. SecuStent™ uses a special kind of biological glue developed by Flowly™ that is absorbed by mucous membranes, permanently bonding the stent within the bladder neck structure. The glue is also infused with a topical muscle relaxant that is effective for about six to twelve months, allowing the stent to fully expand against the sphincter walls, as well as encouraging atrophy of the sphincter through extended prevention of muscular contraction.

The implantation of a SecuStent™ device is proven to render its user permanently incontinent. The SecuStent™ becomes fused to the inner wall of the sphincter, meaning that surgery to remove the device would necessarily involve removing the sphincter itself. Even if the device is removed immediately after initial application, the period of elimination for the paralytic agent within the glue is long enough that the sphincter muscle will always become severely atrophied before attempts can be made to regain control. Cases where the SecuStent™ has been removed before fusing with the membrane have shown limited to minute effectiveness in attempts to re-train bladder control, and re-trainers still rely on medium to heavy diapering to manage their condition.

The Procedure

Everything is looking good, Daniel. Dr. Williams was very pleased with how the procedure went. The stent is functioning just as intended. Just relax now and prepare for the big day tomorrow when we'll fix your fecal issues as well.

#medfet #incontinent #diaper dependent #ai image

Caregiver orientation

Care director Emily Jones stood in the small observation room, her posture exuding confidence and authority. Behind the one-way glass, the common room of Ward Z stretched out in an orderly display of Alderwood’s most structured care. Sixteen residents, each secured in their padded wheelchairs, engaged quietly in their prescribed activities. Caregivers moved fluidly among them, offering soft encouragement, wiping away drool, or adjusting bibs with calm precision.

Standing just behind Emily were three young women, their faces a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Carly, Nina, and Jessica—newly hired nurse assistants—had graduated from their programs only weeks ago. They were bright, eager, and ready to learn, though the sight before them seemed to have momentarily muted their usual chatter.

“This,” Emily began, gesturing toward the glass, “is Ward Z, the long-term residency wing. It represents the final stage of our care model here at Alderwood.”

Emily’s voice remained calm and instructive as she explained, “Ward Z is where our residents end up once they’ve fully adapted to the Total Caregiver Reliance model. These men came to us as long-term unemployed youths. They’re individuals who, for various reasons, have been unable to integrate into the traditional workforce or society at large. Our program here is a government-endorsed solution to help them find stability, comfort, and meaningful structure, rather than leaving them adrift outside.”

The three women nodded, their eyes fixed on the scene below. Carly, the most outgoing of the group, tilted her head slightly. “They all seem so… calm,” she said, her voice hesitant.

Emily smiled faintly. “That’s the goal. The residents here have transitioned fully into Total Caregiver Reliance. They no longer bear the weight of unnecessary autonomy. Instead, they live in a state of structured care and emotional security.”

Jessica’s eyes lingered on the residents’ fuller bodies. She could see how soft and heavy they were, how their jumpsuits bulged around the midsection. “They seem… heavier?” she ventured quietly.

“Absolutely,” Emily replied smoothly. “You’re observing the results of our Advanced Nutritional and Physical Dependency Program, or ANPDP. Each resident here is on a tailored calorie-dense regimen, supplemented by BulkoMax—a high-calorie, nutrient-rich formula that we administer through nasogastric feeding.”

“BulkoMax,” Emily explained, “is a calorie-rich, nasogastric feeding supplement we administer to maintain the residents’ physical dependency. We target a specific BMI range—overweight to mildly obese—which, as you can see, fosters a body type that reinforces their identity as care-dependent individuals. This physical change has proven effective in reducing moments of cognitive dissonance or attempts at independence.”

Jessica, who had been silently observing the residents, tilted her head. “So… this is intentional? The weight gain, I mean.”

Emily nodded. “Yes. A fuller body supports the psychological framework of dependency. Residents with this body type are less likely to experience confusion or resistance; they become more comfortable with their care routines and feel secure within their roles. The physical form aligns with their place here in Ward Z.”

“We’ve found that a slightly overweight to obese body habitus in these residents serves multiple functions. Physically, it diminishes their capacity to resist or attempt independence. Psychologically, they adapt to the fuller figure as part of their identity here, associating it with the constant care they receive.”

She gestured back toward the room. “Look at them. Do you see anyone who looks distressed? Agitated? Uncomfortable?”

The three assistants glanced at the residents, their expressions unreadable. A young man was seated in his wheelchair, giggling softly as a caregiver guided his hands through a simple puzzle. Jason hummed quietly to himself, his cheeks round and flushed as he sorted cards under the watchful eye of another caregiver. Each resident moved slowly, their faces calm and untroubled.

“They do seem… happy,” Carly admitted, though her voice carried a hint of uncertainty.

“Exactly,” Emily said, her smile widening. “Ward Z isn’t just about care—it’s about creating an environment of peace and predictability. By addressing their physical needs in this way, we eliminate stress and confusion. Every intervention, from the BulkoMax feedings to the incontinence care, is designed to provide stability.”

Nina’s brow furrowed as she watched a caregiver pause to adjust Jason’s feeding pump, the faint hum of the machine visible even through the glass. “And they’re all on feeding tubes?”

“Yes,” Emily replied. “The nasogastric feeding ensures consistency in their intake. Oral meals are still provided for emotional engagement, but the primary source of their nutrition comes through the tube. It’s precise, controlled, and eliminates the risk of nutritional deficiencies. In addition, it allows for precise and discreet administration of medications and other supplements.”

Emily pointed toward a few other residents who were dozing contentedly, bibs tied around their necks and faint traces of drool on their cheeks. “We also use a medication called DroolEase. This gentle intervention induces a mild, controlled drooling effect, which serves as a subtle reminder of their dependency. It’s a physical manifestation that keeps them grounded, ensuring they remain receptive to the care they’re receiving.”

Jessica, looking slightly hesitant, spoke up. “And they… they’re comfortable with all of this?”

Emily’s smile was warm but clinical. “Absolutely. Comfort and security are our top priorities here. Everything we do is framed within language and interactions that make these routines feel natural, even reassuring. For example, each caregiver is trained to use affirming, maternal language. Any incident—a drooling episode, an accident—is handled as though it’s completely expected, even a mark of normalcy.”

She gestured toward a caregiver wiping a line of drool from Jason’s chin with a soft cloth, her voice low and comforting as she praised him for “doing so well.” Jason’s face showed no sign of embarrassment; instead, he simply continued his activity, his attention returning to the shapes in front of him.

“See how relaxed he is?” Emily pointed out. “That’s because our language and actions reinforce his role here. They see every aspect of their care as a necessary part of their routine. Words like ‘oopsie’ or ‘messy accident’ are carefully chosen to normalize events like incontinence. It’s crucial that the residents never feel embarrassed or ashamed. With time, they embrace these roles fully.”

Jessica nodded faintly, her gaze lingering on on a resident as a caregiver casually checked the status of his diaper. “They really don’t seem bothered by anything.”

“That’s because they’ve internalized their new identities,” Emily said. “The TCR framework works because it becomes second nature to them. Their lives are simple, structured, and free of unnecessary pressures.”

Carly’s eyes widened slightly as she noticed another resident being changed by two caregivers in the corner of the room, the process carried out with calm efficiency. “Do they ever… push back? Resist?”

Emily’s smile didn’t falter. “Rarely, if ever, by the time they reach Ward Z. The combination of cognitive reframing, sedatives, and consistent reinforcement ensures compliance. Resistance is most common in the earlier phases of the program, but by the time they arrive here, those tendencies have been thoroughly addressed.”

She turned back to the glass, her expression serene. “This is the future of care for this population. A dignified, structured solution that benefits both the residents and society as a whole.”

Nina nodded slowly, her initial apprehension fading as she took in the methodical structure of Ward Z. “It’s… impressive,” she said softly. “You’ve thought of everything.”

Emily’s gaze returned to the residents in the common room. “That’s our goal. To provide a dignified, supportive life for each resident—a place where they can let go and find comfort in the care we provide.”

#alderwood #medfet #diaper dependent #institutionalization #ai image

Yes Mr. Matthews, I'm afraid your incontinence is permanent. I'm sure this is a lot to take in, but thankfully there are modern therapy options available for cases like yours. Why don't you lie down while I get an assistant to care for you, and then we'll discuss long-term institutional care options for you.

#incontinent #ai image #molicare

Alderwood staff introduction

Welcome to Alderwood, where you are now part of a specialized caregiving team working within the our long term institutional containment program. As a caregiver, you play a critical role in facilitating the residents’ transition from independence to full care-dependence. This program is designed for individuals who have been determined unable to live independently due to prolonged disconnection from education, employment, and social responsibilities. Your role is to implement and enforce the facility’s care philosophy, which revolves around strict institutional rules, the reduction of autonomy, and the nurturing of a sense of security through care-dependence.

Our guiding framework at Alderwood is Total Life Management (TLM), a concept that is at the heart of everything we do. TLM means that the institution assumes complete control over every aspect of the residents’ daily lives. This includes their physical needs, mental well-being, and social interactions. Under TLM, you will be responsible for ensuring that the residents relinquish their former notions of independence and embrace the comfort and stability of institutional care. The overarching goal is to instill in residents a full reliance on the caregiving structure, which, over time, will become their new reality. Your authority is vital, and strict adherence to our institutional rules is non-negotiable.

One of the core components of TLM is the No-Toileting Policy (NTP), which is fundamental to the Alderwood approach. All residents, regardless of their prior level of continence, are placed under the NTP from the moment they are admitted to the facility. This policy reinforces the removal of personal autonomy over basic bodily functions, an important step in helping residents transition into a care-dependent identity. Residents are provided with all-in-one diapers and are expected to rely on these for both urinary and fecal elimination. As a caregiver, you are responsible for managing this aspect of their care with professionalism and precision. It is essential that you normalize this process for the residents, ensuring that they understand that using diapers is now a routine part of their lives in the institution. Any resistance to the NTP should be addressed with calm, firm reassurance. You will need to explain to the residents that this approach frees them from the anxiety of controlling their bodily functions, allowing them to focus on adapting to their new lives under complete care.

Similarly, the No-Walking Policy (NWP) is designed to eliminate the physical independence of the residents. At Alderwood, residents are not permitted to walk independently. From the moment they enter our facility, all mobility is managed by caregivers, either through wheelchairs or, in certain cases, through bed confinement. This policy is intended to reduce any residual desire for autonomy while fostering a sense of reliance on the caregiving structure. As a caregiver, you must ensure that residents adhere strictly to the NWP. Any attempts to ambulate independently should be met with immediate intervention. Your role is to remind the residents that their safety and well-being are best ensured when they allow themselves to be fully dependent on caregivers for mobility. Over time, this policy helps to reinforce the psychological transition from independence to complete dependence.

Another key component of our care strategy is Positive Therapeutic Gaslighting (PTG). This advanced psychological technique is used to help residents reframe their understanding of themselves and their environment. PTG is a deliberate approach to guide residents into accepting their new reality, using consistent language, routines, and reinforcement to help them view care-dependence not as a limitation, but as a natural and positive state of being. As a caregiver, you will be trained in PTG methods, which include verbal and non-verbal techniques that gently but firmly reshape the resident’s perceptions. For instance, you might reassure a resident by saying, "You’re safer and more comfortable when we take care of you," or, "Isn’t it easier to let us manage everything for you?" These subtle but impactful statements encourage the resident to accept that they no longer need to manage any aspect of their life on their own. PTG is critical for achieving long-term acceptance of the care-dependent identity, and its proper use requires consistency, patience, and a thorough understanding of the resident’s emotional state.

The final cornerstone of our care philosophy is Total Caregiver Reliance (TCR). At Alderwood, we work towards creating a situation in which residents are completely reliant on caregivers for all aspects of their daily life—physical, emotional, and psychological. TCR is the culmination of the various policies and strategies we implement, from the NTP and NWP to the use of PTG. Over time, the residents will come to view the caregivers as not only their primary source of support but as a necessary and integral part of their existence. It is your responsibility as a caregiver to foster this reliance. This means anticipating the residents’ needs before they even express them, managing all aspects of their hygiene, nutrition, mobility, and emotional well-being. You must become their constant point of reference, reinforcing that they are at their best when they allow themselves to be fully looked after.

Your role as a caregiver in our program is one of profound responsibility. The policies we enforce—Total Life Management, the No-Toileting Policy, the No-Walking Policy, Positive Therapeutic Gaslighting, and Total Caregiver Reliance—are designed to ensure that residents can transition smoothly from an unsustainable state of independence to one of complete care-dependence. This shift is not merely physical but psychological. The strictness of our approach is not a punitive measure; rather, it is essential for creating a safe, stable, and predictable environment in which the residents can thrive. By embracing these core principles, you are helping to provide residents with the security and structure they need, while also ensuring the long-term success of their adaptation to life within our institution.

We trust that you will adhere to these principles with diligence and professionalism. Your commitment to upholding our institutional standards is what makes Alderwood a unique and effective containment facility.

#institutionalization #diaper dependent #incontinent #segufix #diaper regression

Regression is progression

Lying in bed, I found myself an involuntary audience to a conversation between Emily, the care director, and Julia, my primary caregiver. They were discussing my progress at Alderwood, their voices clinical and detached. I lay there, listening but not invited to participate, a passive subject of their assessment. "It's time," Emily said, her tone indicating a decision had been made. "Jason has adjusted well to his initial transition. We should progress to the next phase. How is his physical state?"

"Significant muscle atrophy," Julia replied. "It makes him more manageable and reinforces his dependence, which is in line with our goals. The regression is progressing well."

Emily seemed pleased. "Good. And the restraints?"

"We’re moving to a more restrictive helmet and restraints," Julia continued. "He will be bed-bound in a mobile care bed. No more wheelchair."

I lay there, listening in growing horror. The thought of being confined to a bed, my mobility further restricted, was terrifying. Yet, their conversation continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

"The sedation, laxatives, and stool softeners are working well," Julia added. "His stool is consistently runny, which reinforces his new care-dependent identity. We’re planning appropriate activities in the playroom to match his targeted mental age."

Emily’s response was curt and businesslike. "What would you estimate his appropriate mental age to be now?"

"Like a special needs resident," Julia stated matter-of-factly. "He's progressing well, using simpler language, becoming more docile and compliant. The transition to his new life is proceeding as planned."

Emily nodded, her expression one of satisfaction. "This aligns with our Total Life Management approach. His care-dependent identity is becoming well established."

As I listened, a sense of profound despair settled over me. My new life at Alderwood was taking a turn towards even greater dependency. The prospect of being bed-bound, my movements and activities even more restricted, filled me with dread.

Their conversation painted a dark picture of my future – a future where I would be completely care-dependent, my identity molded into that of a docile, compliant resident. The mention of toys and playroom activities meant for someone of a much younger mental age only deepened my sense of loss. The thought of being confined to a mobile care bed, my physical and mental faculties further diminished by increased sedation and medication, was terrifying. The notion that this was seen as progress, as an appropriate outcome for my time at Alderwood, was almost too much to bear. Every aspect of my life, from my physical abilities to my mental faculties, was being systematically managed and controlled.

As Emily and Julia concluded their discussion, I lay there, a silent witness to the planning of my own regression. The realization that my identity, my autonomy, and my future were no longer in my hands was overwhelming. I was a resident under the total care of Alderwood, my life defined by the institution's policies and goals.

As they left the room, Julia’s final words to me were a firm reminder of my new reality. "Jason, you’re doing well. Embrace your new life. This is where you’re meant to be."

#institutionalization #diaper dependent #medfet #ai image #incontinent #alderwood #diaper regression #diaper captions #segufix

Day two

The next morning, I woke up after more than 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. As I regained consciousness from the sedated sleep, I became acutely aware of a messy accident that had occurred overnight. The shame was immediate and overwhelming, a smelly reminder of my loss of control, carefully managed by the institution.

Julia entered the room with her usual efficiency, ready to begin the morning routine. Noticing my discomfort, she offered verbal reassurance. "Jason, it's completely normal here. That's why we use extra absorbent nighttime diapers," she said, her tone firm and devoid of any judgement. Her words were meant to comfort, but they only served to underline my deep sense of humiliation.

As she changed me, I ventured to ask for a shower again, hoping for some relief from the smell and the feeling of uncleanliness. "Don't worry about the lingering smell. It's normal for institutional residents like you," Julia replied, her voice firm. The message was clear: my personal discomfort was secondary to the facility's policies.

Breakfast followed the now-familiar routine. Julia fitted a bib around my neck, and I found myself drooling slightly as she fed me. Noticing my confusion and embarrassment, she explained, "It's the increased sedation. It can cause some drooling. Don't worry, it's completely normal." Her words were factual, delivered with a clinical detachment that only heightened my sense of fear and helplessness.

After a short while, I felt my diaper becoming wet again. But I knew it was no good asking for a change outside the scheduled times. The realization that my most basic needs were subject to a regimented schedule was a stark reminder of the extent of my dependence on Alderwood and its staff.

Despite the discomfort and the constant reminders of my loss of autonomy, I began to feel a sense of calm settling over me. The increased sedation, while robbing me of my alertness, also seemed to dull the sharp edges of my fear and anxiety. There was a strange comfort in the resignation, a surrender to the inevitable routines and regulations of my new life.

Julia's statements and actions throughout the morning were a continuous reinforcement of my new reality. "You're doing well, Jason. Just relax and let us take care of everything," she would say, her voice steady and reassuring in its firmness. Her words, while meant to soothe, were also a clear directive: my role was to comply and accept the care provided.

As I sat there, being fed, cleaned, and cared for, I couldn't escape the feeling of being a passive participant in my own life. My desires, my discomforts, my dignity - all were secondary to the smooth functioning of Alderwoods's care system.

In the afternoon, Julia announced it was time for a stroll outside. The idea filled me with fear, not only because of the change in routine but also due to the exposure to the outside world. I was fitted with a helmet and head restraints to ensure my safety. "Tight and secure," she reassured me.

As we ventured outdoors, I again became acutely aware of my drooling, a side effect of the increased sedation. Julia routinely wiped my face with a washcloth, her actions efficient yet gentle. "To keep you clean," she explained, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. The thought of others seeing me in this state, helmeted and bibbed, was deeply unsettling.

Julia, sensing my discomfort, reassured me in her firm, unwavering tone. "You need to find comfort in your new identity, Jason. Be comfortable with strangers seeing your dependent state, the new you." Her words were meant to comfort, but they echoed the harsh reality of my existence at Alderwood.

Despite my initial fear, the fresh air of the nearby park was a welcome change. However, my brief moment of calm was shattered by another messy accident, loose and runny. The smell was unmistakable, and I felt a wave of shame wash over me. "Let's continue, you'll be changed according to our schedule," Julia stated, her voice betraying no sign of discomfort or urgency.

As we continued our stroll, Julia engaged in a long conversation with a passerby. I couldn't help but overhear as she talked about my institutionalization, her dialogue both clinical and detached. The passerby, a woman in her mid-fifties, voiced her agreement with the Institutionalization Act. "It's best for misfits like him," she said, her tone one of resigned acceptance.

The word 'misfit' struck me deeply, reinforcing the feeling of otherness that had become a constant in my life at Alderwood. I was an exhibit, a living example of the new social order, where those deemed unproductive were relegated to institutions like Alderwood.

Throughout the conversation, Julia maintained her professional demeanor, discussing my care and the institution's policies as if I were not present. The passerby nodded along, her agreement a stark reminder of the societal consensus that had led to my current situation.

The interaction left me feeling exposed and vulnerable, a mere subject of discussion rather than a participant. My identity had been reduced to that of an institutional resident, my personal story overshadowed by the broader narrative of societal management of 'misfits.'

#institutionalization #medfet #diaper dependent #alderwood #diaper regression #incontinent #segufix #dirty diaper

Afternoon

The sedation swiftly pulled me into a deep sleep, a temporary escape from the new realities of my life at Alderwood. I was barely aware of the passage of time until I was woken by the sound of Julia entering my room. My eyes fluttered open to see her checking my diaper through the transparent crotch area of the jumpsuit.

"You're wet, Jason. It's time for a change," she announced, her tone as firm as ever.

I lay there, feeling exposed and vulnerable as she efficiently changed my diaper. The cold sensation of the wet wipes was startling, and the application of wash cream left a lingering chill on my skin. But then, a new, dry diaper was secured around me, bringing a brief moment of comfort.

Without a word, Julia used the bed hoist to lift me into the wheelchair. She then fastened the restraints around my waist and feet, ensuring I was secure. "It's time for your managed activity," she said as she started wheeling me out of the room.

The journey ended in another sterile room, where Julia handed me crayons and a coloring book. The task felt infantile, and I hesitated, feeling a deep sense of indignity.

"This activity has been chosen by the facility as appropriate for you," Julia assured me, her voice devoid of any softness. "It's part of your care plan."

Reluctantly, I began to color, the childishness of the activity clashing sharply with my sense of self. Yet Julia watched on, her presence a constant reminder of the institution's control over my life.

As I focused on the simple task, an urgent sensation grew in my bowels. Before I could even process it, I felt my diaper filling with runny poop. The suddenness of it left me in shock.

Julia, sensing the accident, reaffirmed the care policy with unwavering authority. "Accidents happen, Jason. Remember, you're to use your diaper. That's our policy here."

The shame was overwhelming. I sat there, soiled and helpless, the smell a stark reminder of my new reality. "Please, I need a change," I pleaded, my voice breaking. "It... it smells."

Julia's response was immediate and unyielding. "Jason, as I've told you, changes are scheduled. The diapers are designed to handle this. You'll be changed at the appropriate time."

Her words were like a cold hand squeezing my heart. The firmness in her tone left no room for argument or hope of immediate relief. I was left to sit in my soiled state, a prisoner of the institution's policies and the relentless assertion of its authority over every aspect of my being.

***

After the coloring activity, which felt like an eternity, Julia wheeled me back to my room. The journey was silent, the only sound being the steady hum of the wheelchair's wheels on the linoleum floor. As we moved, the discomfort from the accident in my diaper became more acute, the unpleasant sensation a constant reminder of my complete dependence on the staff for even the most basic aspects of my life.

Once back in my room, Julia prepared the bed hoist for the transfer. As I was lifted, the feeling of the soiled diaper against my skin intensified, making me acutely aware of my humiliating state. I felt exposed and vulnerable, a feeling that only grew as Julia began the change.

When she unzipped the crotch of my jumpsuit and untaped the diaper, the smell became overwhelming. I couldn't help but ask, "Can I have a shower, please?"

Julia's response was immediate and stern. "We’ll change your diaper now, and then you’ll be perfectly clean. You will be bathed according to our schedule. A lingering scent of incontinence is normal here, and nothing to worry about."

Her words were like a cold dismissal of my discomfort. I lay there, feeling helpless as she cleaned me thoroughly. Despite her efficient and careful cleaning, the mere knowledge of what had happened left me feeling deeply shamed.

Once I was clean and in a fresh diaper, Julia used the bed hoist again to transfer me back into the wheelchair. I felt the restraints being fastened around my waist and feet, securing me in place. The process was efficient, impersonal, and devoid of any semblance of normal human interaction.

As she finished securing the restraints, Julia gave a nod of satisfaction, her role as a caregiver executed with clinical precision. "Remember, Jason, all of this is for your care and well-being," she said, her voice firm and devoid of empathy.

Her words were meant to be reassuring, perhaps, but they echoed hollowly in my ears. I was just another resident under her care, my individual needs and feelings secondary to the institution's policies and routines.

As Julia wheeled me to a position where I could gaze out the window, I realized that this was my life now. I was entirely at the mercy of Alderwood and its staff, my personal autonomy stripped away under the guise of care. My days would be filled with managed activities, scheduled changes, and the constant reminder of my dependency.

***

Dinner began with Julia spoon-feeding me the bland concoction of mashed vegetables and pureed food. I longed for the autonomy of just holding the spoon, but that was a luxury far beyond my reach now. As she brought a sippy cup to my lips, instinctively, I reached out to grasp it. But Julia's intervention was quick, her grip firm as she restrained my hands.

"You need to understand, Jason, everything is managed for you here," she said, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

As I took a sip, a fleeting thought crossed my mind - the medication. "Is... is there medication in this?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, fear creeping into its edges.

Julia paused, her expression unchanging. "Yes, your medication is in your food and drink. It's for your well-being, to help you adapt to your new life here at Alderwood."

Her confirmation sent a chill down my spine. I was not just passive in my movements and care; even my mental state was being managed and controlled. I felt a deep sense of powerlessness, realizing the extent of my dependency on the institution and its staff.

Despite the fear and the realization of my medicated state, Julia's care remained gentle yet firm. She wiped my face clean after the meal, her actions methodical and practiced.

As dinner came to an end, I felt the familiar discomfort of a wet diaper. Sensing my unease, Julia reassured me, "We'll change you before bedtime. Don't worry."

The return to my room was quiet. Julia positioned me in front of the TV, turning on a show that was clearly meant for children. The simplicity of the program was another reminder of how my life had been reduced to basic, almost infantile routines.

As I watched, I noticed a surveillance camera in the corner of the room, its presence a silent sentinel, monitoring every moment. The realization that I was under constant watch added another layer to my feeling of being trapped in a life far removed from normalcy.

The evening passed slowly, the childish TV show playing in the background while I sat there, my thoughts a mix of fear, resignation, and the constant awareness of my wet diaper. The surveillance camera's unblinking eye was a constant reminder of the institution's control over every aspect of my existence.

Finally, Julia returned to my room, signaling the end of the day. "It's time to get you ready for bed," she announced, her voice as firm as it had been throughout the day.

She used the bed hoist to transfer me from the wheelchair to the bed. The change was efficient; the cold wipes and fresh diaper a routine I was slowly becoming accustomed to. Despite the discomfort and the indignity of the situation, there was a small relief in being clean again.

"Sleep well, Jason. We'll take good care of you," Julia said as she secured me in bed, her tone devoid of warmth.

As she left the room, turning off the lights, I lay there, staring at the dim outline of the surveillance camera. The gentle hum of the institution surrounded me, a constant reminder of my new reality. I was a resident of Alderwood now, my life dictated by schedules, policies, and the ever-present watchful eyes of my caregivers. This was my world, a world where my autonomy was a distant memory, and my existence was governed by the firm, unyielding rules of institutional care.

#diaper dependent #institutionalization #medfet #ai image #incontinent #diaper regression #diaper captions #segufix #dirty diaper

Welcome to your new life

You have been placed under care because it has been deemed the best solution for both you and society. The decision, taken under the Institutionalization Act, is final and non-negotiable. Your past life is behind you; ahead is a journey of total dependence and structured living.

Complete dependence You are now in a state of total dependence on our staff for your every need. This shift is crucial for your well-being and is a fundamental aspect of your care here.

Diaper dependence Understand that you will be in diapers at all times. We operate under a strict no toileting policy. This is more efficient for us and ensures better care for you.

Mobility Your mobility will be managed via a wheelchair. This is to ensure your safety and the ease of providing care.

Feeding procedures Your nutrition is carefully managed by us. If you show non-compliance with assisted feeding, we will resort to nasogastric feeding. It is in your best interest to cooperate.

Restraints For your safety and the safety of others, restraints will be used as necessary. These measures are for your protection.

Mandatory sedation To ensure a tranquil environment and your smooth adaptation, sedation will be a regular part of your care. This is mandatory and non-debatable.

Total care You will receive assistance in all tasks. From eating to dressing, every aspect of your life will be managed by our caregivers.

New identity and your transition Embrace your new identity here. The transition you are undergoing is for your betterment. Resistance is futile and counterproductive.

Embrace compliance Your compliance with our rules and routines is mandatory. This is a new way of life, and quicker acceptance will lead to a smoother transition.

Submission to our care Understand that submission to the care provided is in your best interest. You are in a place where your needs are understood and catered to by professionals.

No autonomy Accept that you will not be making decisions about your care or daily life. These decisions are made by the caregivers, who are trained and authorized to ensure your best care.

Caregiver authority The authority of caregivers and the institution under the new law is absolute. They are equipped to provide you with appropriate care as defined under the law.

It is essential for you to understand that this change is for your own good. Embracing your new identity, submitting to the care and authority of the caregivers, and complying with the routines and policies will ensure a more comfortable and tranquil life for you within our institution. Resistance will only delay your adaptation and is strongly discouraged.

Remember, you are in a place where you will be cared for, where your needs will be managed, and where your well-being is our priority. Welcome to your new life, where every aspect is thoughtfully managed for your benefit.

#medfet #diaper dependent #diaper captions #institutionalization #alderwood

Adjustments

We arrived at what would be my room. It was stark but clean, with a single bed, a small dresser, and a window that looked out onto a well-manicured lawn. "This will be your room," Julia announced, guiding me inside.

I glanced around. The room smelled of disinfectant and vinyl, cold and impersonal. A wheelchair sat next to a large institutional bed, a stark reminder of my new reality.

Julia gently led me to the bed. "Now, Jason, we need to get you settled into your new attire," she said, her voice steady and reassuring. She explained that the first step was to change into a diaper. The word still made me cringe internally, but I remained silent, feeling a mixture of resignation and disbelief.

As she cleaned me, I could feel the coldness of the wipes, a sensation that made me wince slightly. Julia applied a rash cream to my crotch area, her touch professional, devoid of any unnecessary gentleness. The cream felt cold, adding to the surreal nature of the experience. I was an adult, yet here I was, being treated like an infant.

"Remember Jason, you are not to concern yourself with your toileting," she said as she continued with the change. "Don't ask for changes. You will be changed at the appropriate time." Her words were final, leaving no room for argument or discussion. The policy of diaper dependence at Alderwood was clear and non-negotiable.

Once the diaper was securely in place, Julia brought out a vinyl jumpsuit. "This is what all our residents wear. It's easy to clean and maintain," she stated matter-of-factly as she helped me into it. The jumpsuit felt strange against my skin, the vinyl cold and unfamiliar. The crotch zipper was secured with a locking device, a clear indication of the control and restrictions that were now a part of my life. Julia noticed my discomfort and offered a comforting smile. "It takes a little time to get used to, but you'll find it's comfortable and practical," she reassured me.

The next step was transferring me to a wheelchair. The bed hoist loomed over me, a mechanical device that further emphasized my dependency. Julia operated it with ease, lifting me from the bed and positioning me in the wheelchair. The transfer felt alien, a process that stripped me of any semblance of independence.

As I was settled into the wheelchair, Julia secured me with restraints. The straps were tight, ensuring I wouldn't fall or injure myself, but they also served as a physical reminder of my lack of freedom. The restraints, the diaper, the locked jumpsuit - all of it symbolized the new reality of my life at Alderwood.

"You'll be spending a lot of time in this wheelchair," Julia stated as she wheeled me out of my room. "It's how we manage your mobility here. It allows us to ensure you're always safe and can easily be taken to where we decide you need to be." Her voice was devoid of emotion, purely functional.

In the dining room of Alderwood, my first meal experience was a far cry from anything I had known before. Julia wheeled me to a table and fitted a vinyl bib around my neck. The bib, stiff and impersonal, served as a reminder of my dependence on others for even the most basic tasks.

Julia began feeding me porridge, spoonful by spoonful. The food was bland, lacking any flavor that I could discern. Noticing my lack of enthusiasm, she assured me, "Your nutrition is carefully managed for you, Jason. Every meal is designed for your health and well-being." Her tone was reassuring, but it did little to improve the taste of the porridge.

As I ate, some of the food spilled onto my chin. Julia gently wiped it away, maintaining her professional demeanor. "It's necessary, Jason. The care you receive here is for your best," she said, her voice firm yet not unkind. The way she spoke about my care, as something done to me rather than for me, was becoming increasingly evident.

Midway through the meal, I felt a sudden urge to pee. I hesitated before voicing it to Julia, "I… I need to pee." Her response was immediate and stern, "Remember, Jason, here at Alderwood we have a strict no toileting policy. You're in diapers for a reason."

I closed my eyes in shame as I wet myself, feeling the warmth spread and the diaper absorb it. The sensation was unsettling, a vivid reminder of my loss of autonomy.

After finishing my meal, I asked timidly, "Can I get changed now?" Julia's response was quick and authoritative, "No, Jason. You will be changed at the appropriate time as per our schedule. The diapers are highly absorbent and designed to keep you comfortable. There is no need to worry about it."

Her words were a stark reminder of the new regime I was under. My needs and comfort were secondary to the institution's policies and schedules. The fact that I was sitting in a wet diaper, having just eaten a bland meal, and with no say in when I would be changed, crystallized the reality of my life at Alderwood.

As Julia wheeled me out of the dining room, I couldn't help but feel a sense of despair. The freedom to make even the simplest decisions had been taken away from me. My life was now dictated by the rules and schedules of the institution, and my personal preferences and dignity seemed to be of little importance in this new world.

#diaper regression #medfet #incontinent #institutionalization #alderwood #diaper dependent #diaper captions #ai image

A new beginning

Sitting in the office at Alderwood, I felt a swirl of unease and anticipation. Across from me were Emily, the Care Director, and Nurse Julia. Their expressions were serious, yet there was a hint of empathy in their eyes. I knew why I was here; my psychologist had deemed my life a "failed attempt at societal adaptation." The Institutionalization Board, acting under the new Institutionalization Act, had agreed.

Emily began, her voice firm and authoritative, "Jason, you're here because it's been determined that traditional societal life isn't suitable for you. Under section seven of the new law, we are granted enhanced authority to provide you with the care you need."

"At Alderwood, we provide a structured environment. This means that we'll take care of all your needs." She paused for a moment, ensuring I was following. "You'll be under our constant care, and decisions about your daily life will be made by us."

I felt a knot in my stomach as she spoke. The loss of my autonomy seemed so absolute, so irreversible. "We know what's best for you," Emily added, her tone leaving no room for doubt or negotiation.

Julia explained further, "Your daily life will include what we call diaper dependence. There will be no toileting; instead, we use diapers for all residents. It's more efficient and ensures your hygiene and comfort."

The idea of wearing diapers was humiliating, but Emily's next words were even more jarring. "You'll also be assisted with eating. Our staff will feed you, and you'll find this helps with proper nutrition and safety."

I tried to imagine myself being fed like a child, the loss of even this basic form of independence.

"And your mobility," Julia said, "is managed. You will be using a wheelchair, and we will assist you with all movement."

"But I can walk just fine," I protested weakly.

"It's not about your ability to walk, Jason. It's about ensuring your safety and maintaining order within our facility," Emily explained.

I felt a sense of helplessness washing over me. The control I had over my life was slipping away with each word they spoke.

Emily's voice brought me back to the moment. "At times, we use sedation. This is to ensure a calm and manageable environment. It's for your own good and the good of those around you."

Sedation? The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't believe that my life had come to this.

"And restraints," Julia added, "are used as needed, for safety. You might find them uncomfortable at first, but you'll understand their importance."

The conversation was surreal. With each policy they outlined, my previous life seemed to fade further away.

"We make all decisions on your behalf," Emily said, concluding their explanations. "This is to relieve you of the burden of choice and to provide you with the best possible care."

I sat there, feeling numb. This wasn't just a new chapter; it was an entirely different book.

"Any questions, Jason?" Julia asked, her tone still firm yet caring.

I shook my head. I had many questions, but I couldn't find the words. Everything felt so overwhelming. The idea of a life without autonomy, where every aspect of my existence was managed by someone else, was frightening.

"Let's take you to your new room," Julia said, standing up. She reached out her hand, and I took it, feeling like a child. As we walked, I realized the full extent of my new reality. I was no longer just Jason; I was a resident at Alderwood, entirely dependent on others for my care and well-being.

Walking down the hallway, I looked around at the orderly, quiet environment of Alderwood. The walls were clean, the air had a sterile smell, and everything seemed meticulously organized. It was a world away from the chaos of my previous life, yet I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss.

As Julia guided me firmly by the hand, I knew that this was just the beginning of my new, managed life. A life where my independence was a thing of the past, and where my every need, no matter how personal, would be taken care of by someone else. The thought was both comforting and deeply unsettling.

#medfet #incontinent #diaper dependent #incontinence #institutionalization #ai image #diaper captions

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