Hi D3V,
Read your previous post on alcohol and bedwetting (BTW, super happy that your boyfriend was accepting and supportive). My experiences sound similar, I'm in my mid 20's, college wasn't too long ago, and with a major I absolutely loathe, I could very well be going back, this time living on or near campus. Anyways, you may as well check off all three boxes for me, stress, check, booze, check, stress & booze, double check. My issues really began in high-school, I had always been an occasional bedwetter ever since I was taken out of Goodnites in 3rd grade (not my decision). Up to middle school we just chalked it up to the statistic that there are some kids of that age range who naturally have the occasional nighttime accident, and also contributed it to deep sleeping while going through the fun stage of puberty, growth and development. I always used to be one of the tallest kids, (now I've had a late life growth spurt, not complaining, but wish it happened sooner) which drew that conclusion. However, this lead to bad habits, along with having a father who was largely absent due to his job; never really learned proper diet and exercise, even in my neighborhood, as our house was just in the nexus of nowhere in the middle of suburbia (just an extension of nowhere), there weren't any kids my age to be active with; make up a band, play sports etc, so I was largely left to myself with reruns of old sitcoms, chronic snacking, and the unfortunate knack of being an efficient academic student. Thus endth middle school.
By the time high-school came, I could see that I was one of the heavier kids. Who am I kidding, I was fat, but it didn't really show on my frame (like those heavier football players who don't look fat, but certainly don't look muscular). As the years went on, as did the pounds, I did have more frequent episodes of wet sheets, and back when I thought Depends could help (insert demonic laughter) I read articles that attributed being overweight to bedwetting as well. There was a decrease when I was swimming a lot, some days I was in the pool for 3 hours with back to back classes, then I went on to get my lifeguard certification, but gorging myself at night negated the calories burned. Now in my academic "career" we're approaching junior year, you that time, when every moment of your schedule down to when you move your bowels is supposedly so f---ing important so you can get into a good college? As I didn't have the luxury of being an athlete, let alone the support, or an artist, again, let alone the support, I unfortunately had to rely on academic performance. I didn't really care for it, but I was good at it, not to mention with weighted grades. I had a schedule where I had a day of nothing but AP/honors classes, and another day with 2 filled with extra credits as well. I was stressed to the limit, with the way the workload piled up, conflicting days with nothing but tests, projects, papers due. Back then it made for long days, long nights, and stressed to the point if I woke up in dry sheets two or three times a week, it was a good week. Junior year was pure hell. Senior year had a similar courseload, but evenly distributed, it was a better year, I met one of my greatest friends (whom has totally turned for the worst currently), knew what it was like to have a crush on a girl, and got that precious acceptance to one of my state's greatest private university's. I was on top of the world for a while, sure I was single, fat, and always working on something for a class, but supposedly everything was "working". Did I still have issues, yes, but they were predictable, closer to exams, or when larger projects were due, and it felt like a different type of stress than junior year, this was more exhaustion.
College came (insert deflated and flat party horn). I missed my old friends, but was immediately happier than I ever was in high school, in retrospect, instead of being so focused on grades, one, I never would have majored in the physical sciences, I would have never touched STEM, now being stuck with this damn degree, two, understood it was a sycophantic symphony, and three, wouldn't have been a commuter relying on public transport. Freshman year started easy, until they threw us idiots into o-chem, and it was nice meeting other people, having a campus, and discovering a new, welcome crutch; alcohol! As everyone does to start with, I had a low tolerance, but began to build that up. When and why did I build it up? Stress! Towards the second and third quarters of the year I would hit up 2 glasses of vodka fairly frequently, and if stress with Dr.ReadHisNotesTurnHisBackAndLectureIntoTheDryEraseboard's tests, I was very stressed and my sheets were soaked. This was also a time in life when my parents decided they needed to make everything all about them, my old man making up the idea my mother was having an affair, and the whole dramatic move out/victim thing, when nothing had happened (this was before I learned the term of narcissism). My tolerance was building greater and greater. Sophomore year, hands down was the best year, I had the last of Dr.ImJustHereForThePaycheck's classes (which I would have to retake) and a schedule that was perfect, despite starting early, I was done by noon. After dodging what was more than likely a cardiac event after the final exam with Dr.Worthless, I had the time to work out and start shedding pounds. Now that I had a great imbecile out of my way I had removed a year long stressor, with working out, I had been able to craft a schedule for studying/homework, and meet a wonderful friend who I spent most of the year with for homework between classes, and we began to build our schedules together. Losing weight, I had far fewer accidents, my stress had been lowered, and I wasn't treating drinking as something that was necessary all the time, I'd save it for friday and the weekend. I was also helping my dad balance what was going on with my grandmother healthwise, a blood infection, and she passed away that summer. Drinking habits didn't increase, but the stress was back in another way, right before junior year. This year was supposed to start remarkably, and plunged to an all time low, as I was very sick, and now I was pissed off at the world, taking it out on myself, drinking heavily while very close to being in the hospital. In some ways, it was the only way to sleep, but now, with the picture painted once more "junior year is the most important year" my old dreams were dead, and I was looking at a future I certainly did not want. Somehow I managed to pass all of my classes, labs, study with my friend, hang out with old friends, commute to and from campus, and work a job on campus, but there were several nights that were just like my nights as a junior in high school. I was healthy by spring, and I had given up drinking (heavily) as I was taking the most rigorous classes offered/required for my major, and having lost so much weight it hit me hard and fast. Summer arrived, as well as having to retake a class with a professor who could actually teach (and I had him for 2 other classes junior year, always did well) once it was said and done, I was at an all time low, depressed AF looking at what my future might be, feeling absolutely betrayed by what the image of college was that was sold to students versus reality, well, my reality, all that had been lost (and to add, my dog was passing away that summer). So being numb and pickled was the only thing that got me through. Senior year, might have been some of my heaviest drinking, never missed a class or work to a hangover, I'd tough it out need be, and my schedule was quite open; my required coursework was complete, and it was too late to change majors, I was chained to a sinking ship, and all I had was to watch it go down. Senior year wasn't as stressful, I knew I hated my major and would never seek a graduate degree in the field, or anything related, really, I also needed the time to help my dad with my grandmother's house to get it cleaned and on the market. Bedwetting wasn't as bad senior year, but it was there, my go to was straight gin, and juniper is a natural diuretic. Combine that and drinking to blacking out a few times per month...
Now, I'm 3 years out of that mass marketed life script. Since then, I've dealt with my dad trying to bully me into jobs IDGAF about on the slightest level, he had to have emergency surgery 2 years ago and I was the one who took care of him for 3 months. I was drinking half a handle of booze every day at that point in time, thinking, "what's the worst that can happen? I don't wake up? There have been greater tragedies." I think that 3 month stretch was the worst, and didn't wake up in dry sheets for the same amount of time. 2019, I hit the point where I can't get a minorly interesting job in this f---ing field that has a pay rate where I can afford to move out and live someplace I actually like, despite having friends with their weak majors in the humanities or arts, or fell into a contrived relationship to do so. With this, there have been many mornings that have started with a glass of vodka and listening to AIC's Down In A Hole or Nutshell, and the day is just low level drinking until I go to bed. I can't say that the drinking has been the sole contributor to my now infrequent accidents, but nights I know I overindulge it makes sense, or if dynamics at home, in finding a temporary job until I go back to school are bad, it is quite frequent.
Sorry for the long post, I've just had a long history with heavy drinking and nighttime issues, hopeful some part of this answers your questions.
