So What If I Used to Wet the Bed?
Trying to understand the concept of wetting your bed when you never had the issue is something that’s probably rather confusing. It’s simple right? You just wake up whenever you feel the urge to pee and then go back to bed. If only life was that simple.
Every morning until about age 13 (I stopped when I was about 12), I would frantically wake up and pat the bed to see if I’d peed the night before. Most of the time I would remember peeing at some point in my dream so I knew the drill. Take the sheets and blanket and throw em in the laundry. It was a gruesome task, but my lovely saint of a mother work thankfully just routinely wash my bedding for me without judgement. Except for that one time I’d drank a full Sweet Tea from McDonalds right before bed. Might as well have just dumped the full thing on my bed that night. Sorry again Mom.
The thing about bed-wetting is that it’s truly uncontrollable. It wasn’t like I was cold at night and just chose to pee. Being a bed-wetter was definitely not some badge of honor that I wore proudly. I just had no ability to wake up in the middle of the night. There was literally no way that I had any control of my body or the situation, so it was just this state that I lived in.
The bullying that I would experience from this one if people found out was miserable. I was an 8 year old wearing diapers to sleep overs so not to ruin any bedding/furniture. So your buddy goes to nut tap you and gets a smack of a mini pillow and there’s instantly a million questions going on in his brain and almost always started with “what the hell was that???”. They would often just laugh at me until they oddly settled down, attempting to just talk to their friend that was semi-casually wearing a diaper. Never was quite the same banter once this diaper/bed-wetting knowledge was dropped on them. I preferred to just not sleep over at friends places because of this fact. The less they knew the better.
It was probably the first thing that I could recall being blackmailed with. If any of my friends did discover that I was a bed wetter, they would threaten my reputation with it. I don’t recall exactly what sorts of stuff they’d need me to do, possibly play handball instead of basketball or something, but I just remember it being crucial this information never saw the light of day. It would have absolutely ruined any credibility that I had in my life. It was then that I realized the power of some good blackmail.
I think one the worst parts about growing up as a bed wetter is the PTSD from it. Even for the 3–4 years after I ceased being a bed wetter, I would still frantically wake up each morning and check my bedding. Once my friends had pranked me by throwing warm water on the area around where I was asleep, woke me up and convinced me that I had peed and I was MORTIFIED. I don’t think I’d ever admitted to them that I had a bed-wetting issue a couple of years prior and that it genuinely scared me. I just said “wow… strange…. that’s so unlike me…… hah” and they were like “uhh no shit? It’s not like any of us, we’re normal. Also, you didn’t pee it was just water”. It was about 2AM and we were in the state of Arkansas for a baseball tournament so I just immediately flew home and never talked to any of them ever again. (Kidding I stayed and we laughed at it off, but it did haunt me for a bit there).
Now that I only wet the bed when I want (gets a little cold sometimes), I have grown comfortable enough to be able to talk about it. It’s a funny thing to reflect on as it haunted me for such a good portion of my life. It was my first encounter with blackmail and that’s so damn funny. I also count my lucky stars that I didn’t get any girls/bring girls home back then otherwise I would’ve had a Bobby Boucher/Vicki Vallencourte situation going with my Mom.
Songs played while writing:
Her Songs — 4AM Disco
The Weeknd — Starboy [Album]
Orville Peck — Pony [Album]
