Regressive Infantilism
Infantilism is the evacuation of an overwhelmed psyche withdrawing from the accountability of cognitive responsibility and bodily functions. Domina Equinox cossets the stimuli of this impulse for dependence, which originates from either a depraved or wholesome childhood.
In an attempt to protect a tired mind, an adult renounces liability for being an invalid reliant on a mother figure for sustenance, bathing, tending, encouragement and guidance.

Two conflicting histories:
A fairy tale of pampering:
If formative years were nurtured, baby will reminisce fondly when surrounded by infantile stimuli. Recollections of warm baths amongst ducks and ships bopping as tepid bubbly water bathes the babe luxuriously. Mollycoddling with chubby little legs splayed for mommy / nanny to rub in baby powder and bum cream between nappy changes get the tiny tot chuckling. Coaxing games in the high chair to foster a fussy baby during feeding times. Cuddling to release a burp in case baby is colicky. Tucked into fleece blankets while Mummy croons nursery rhymes and bedtime lullabies with fluffy toys for playmates. A chime carousel above the precious cherub’s cot.  Pretty wallpaper inspires a world of opportunity. Rocking horse, tricycle and playpen. A rainbow of crayons to create dreams. A plush pram floating as broody comments of admiration affirm acquiescence to the self-esteem. Swooning parents giving credence to the latest craze with birthday parties and gifts to celebrate their prodigy in the latest fashion: a substantial trust fund as a paragon … these cherished bonds evoke a montage of marvellous mementoes for munchkin. Born with a silver spoon: privilege awaits every whim!  

A helter-skelter upbringing:       
If unfortunate, breeding is fraught with absurd abuse. A melodramatic mother is convinced that the curse of motherhood is her curfew. In private she resents her baby, wishing rather that she were blessed with a barren womb while she bungles at the housekeeping. She humiliates him for being enfeebled, especially when she must change his soiled diaper. Shunting him away when she suspects his cute gurgling requires her attention. Little sweet-pee is reprimanded for his sticky nappy as she slaps his diminutive “willy”. Bad boy is dumped into a sink to rid the stink, his scorched buttocks hidden by a rough make-shift towel nappy.  Mother puts a potty on his head, christening him as stupid to amuse herself. Nappy rash burns his raw bum while the fishwife chain smokes with him in her arms as he sucks the formula bottle teat to squash his screams. When the deprived infant cries she shoves a vodka laced dummy in his mouth. “A dummy for a dummy”: her crass raspy sarcasm shrieks as she shrills with a gaggling cough. Neglect is emphatic when she passes out in an intoxicated stupor and he falls from her grasp, crawling to refuge on the kitsch carpet. His disregarded cries unheard.  A disturbing welfare case indeed!  His survival invisible and redundant in her shilly-shally delirium desolate of compunction. She is deceitful in public delineating how she sacrifices to raise him as best she can as a mere commoner. Yet he incubates in an indecent hovel. He is not a cretin: just a stifled bastard who should be in an orphanage!
Monsters shall inhibit his progression until he finds healing. To function optimally, occasionally the psyche must regress to its origins. Whether safeguarded in the cushions of comfort or hustled in hauntings of horror: Returning to roots with Domina Equinox rekindles childlike innocence or restores a lost soul.  

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