I think it's getting worse.


A padded elfin enby
Est. Contributor
  1. Diaper Lover
  2. Little
  3. Incontinent
On Friday, I woke up intending to make it a cleaning day.

What happened was that (aw shit, did I use that inside of my writing voice? I guess it's bad lol) the day became a fatigue day AND an OAB day. I had awakened with the worst pain since my hospital visit and my partner had both directed me to both — smoke hella — and to take this 10mg ∆9 gummy immediately.

I got one chore in and I had to tap out, mind and body incredibly weary. I slipped into a delirious sleep, seeing and hearing my fiance calling me, panicked. But my body had locked, and I couldn't go to them.

Every time I tried to get up when I was awake took so much effort that I had to go straight back down again. Every time I was down, I had to sleep. Every time I slept, I was excruciatingly aware that my bladder was too full and I needed to get up — and I couldn't.

It took a pain spike so huge that I shot awake from it to get up in time, every time, every —

... approximately 45 minutes.

This was my morning and early afternoon.

I go to bed fucking exhausted, carrying a can of water in case I finally manage to dehydrate myself.

My dreams were disjointed; chase sequences, jump scares, creepy dudes. Body is LOCKED.

I wake around 11pm to the sound of my partner attempting to be subtle about being in crisis. I tell them I'm right there for them but at the moment reeeeeally needed to pee.

This is a bit of an obfuscation: I'd realized I'd started wetting in my sleep, but only just. Walking to the bathroom is a pinched-leg hands-in-crotch waddle — thank fuck I was wearing. It wasn't until I got onto the toilet that I noticed just how bad it was. Of course I compulsively checked the mattress on returning — dry, thank fuck.

We have our hash-out, they wait for me to return from the bathroom (time elapsed is 30 minutes), we fall asleep cuddling.

45 minutes later, nightmare of which I only remember vague dread. I am physically frozen, but can feel my bladder is overly full. And I'm so goddamn tired that I fall back asleep before I get to do anything about it.

The time is in the single digits. Nightmare, but this time is an ironic terror. I am physically frozen, and it even hurts, but I can't move.

The time is in the single digits. It is still vaguely dark. The nightmare is a vague terror again, and I am frozen.

And I am soaking. Even actively so: I'm able to move my arms enough to touch my shorts.

Wet all around, front and back. A pang of terror here as I realize that I am in fact, soaked to oversaturation.

And the mattress is freezing cold, and wet.

And I'm still wetting myself, I realize.

This whips my body into shape, and I scramble to the bathroom.

It's when I'm emptying my seriously full bladder that I realize that I can't feel it. Well, there's the sensation of welcome relief, but I couldn't feel that my bladder was full.

I never did touch my water.

And the ironic terror that I couldn't move from: a flashback nightmare of what happened in the past when I would wet the bed.