I would hardly ever go on school trips. Certainly not camping with overnight stay and i only went on day trips when unavoidable. It was difficult to skip educational trips to museums or important places nearby, but I skipped all trips to amusement parks and city trips. I was 14 years old and that year there was only a dull daytrip to a water zoo that also had some fairground attractions. Everybody else found it dull and stupid but somehow I thought it might be fun for me. It was a 2 hour bus trip. We had freedom to walk around there freely and I felt I had to force myself to get over the fear for my bladder. At that age i got desperate, felt that by avoiding trips, or doing anything out of my comfort zone and stuffing towels in my underwear because I was afraid I would wet myself, I was making things worse. I had to address my issue and this innocent trip would be the start.
Our mentor that year was mrs. Müller. We lived in The Netherlands near the border and she lived in Germany but despite her German name she was Dutch. She was our Sports teacher and all clichés came together in one person. She was a wannebe militairy drill-instructor, only caring about maintaining order. She was very strict and she measured our sports ability to our ability to make it in life. She didn’t care about shouting at students until they cried. Sports was life and life was hard, and pain was to be enjoyed or one would drown in the toughness of life. Prior to the trip she instructed us multiple times about how to behave in the bus. That it was new and it even had a toilet but only for emergencies. We didn’t understand what the big deal was, until we saw that the bus company was from the little village where she lived. Somehow she must have had a connection with the driver, or the firm. It was a relief though to know that there was a toilet, which in the late 80th wasn’t a matter of course for buses that were hired by schools.
It was a warm spring day. The excitement was a bit faded and a bit of anxiety came up. The bus was shiny new and so big that every student could use 2 seats. That was great and although we got warned that the toilets would be closed, because the driver did not want the hassle of cleaning it just for a 2 hour drive, I was confident and excited. It was early morning and a sunny warm day. As soon as we were driving I fell asleep. After about an hour I woke up in a panic. My hand instantly went to my crotch but luckily I wasn’t wet. I was sitting in the back of the bus, above the engine and the vibrating had caused quite severe tension, pressure and urge from my bladder. My body was completely rigid, desperately holding in my pee. I knew the toilet was closed but even if it would be open and I would just move an inch I would pee myself in the middle of the bus, on display for everyone. But I lost the battle with my bladder. Slowly a puddle formed between my legs on the seat. It was absorbed quickly by the fabric but I felt my butt getting wet and some pee running down my leg. Quickly I rubbed my trousers to my legs so as not to form a puddle on the bus floor. I was devastated and desperate. The odor would probably be noticed as well as my wet pants. I had a bottle of water that I sprinkled over the seat, hoping it would mask the odor a bit.
The odor wasn’t noticed and I kept quiet the rest of the route, pretending to sleep. When we arrived I was the last one to get up. I covered my butt with my vest, hanging down from my middle and held my bag in front of my crotch. The seat was visibly wet and I hoped the sun would dry it up quickly. In the park I kept a bit behind, trying not to draw attention which I somehow managed. When we arrived at a pond where we could take a boat I got an idea. I put the bag and my vest on the ground and laughed and joked and then let myself stumble in the water. I climbed out, other boys were laughing and cheering for such mischief but when I looked I saw a girl, looking at me in horror and especially at my crotch. She must have noticed the wet spot even before I jumped in the pond.
She came back with our mentor who surprisingly didn’t look mad and she was in a good mood. With a grin she summoned me to go with her to see if there were any dry clothes. We got a private dressing room from the park staff and she searched in her massively big sports bag for some clothes.
“I always carry a pair of spare sports pants. It has a rope sewn that you can adjust so I guess it will fit”. Than she reached back in her bag and what she held in her hand made my blood drain from my face, my breathing stopped. She held a pull- up diaper in her hand, not a children’s one, but big, thick and plain white.
“Here, put this on. I don’t want my pants to get wet. It’s for adults but I guess it fits”.
I knew she knew and probably the girl that warned her knew too. I didn’t understand though, and still don’t know, why she would bring pull up diapers to a school trip. Would she need them herself, or did more students have had this issue? I didn’t know.
That was the first time I used incontinence briefs. It felt weird, I was ashamed and thought everyone would notice. Classmates laughed because I was wearing sportspants from Mrs. Müller, but I was convinced it was noticeable that I was wearing a massively big, adult diaper. Back at the bus, I wanted to sit in the seat I had that morning, but a towel was put over it and again, my heart stopped for a moment. I sat in a random place, dug deep into the seat, ashamed and hiding for everyone and everything. The mentor shouted for our attention, not in a good mood anymore, but agitated. I knew this was my fault.
“Prior to our trip and even this morning, I warned each and everyone of you to keep the bus clean. But it turns out one of the seats is dirty and has to be cleaned professionally. Accidents can happen but what strikes me most is that it was not reported which to me is a childish, cowardly act. I hope the journey back will be uneventful in that matter. Oh, and for now the toilets are open”.
She didn’t mention that the seat was peed on. Thank God. Just accident. Accidents can mean anything. I knew she was right but I was just too ashamed. Classmates laughed and asked me what I had done and I mumbled it was just a bit of water, hoping in the meantime that there was not a pee smell coming from the seat with the towel. I felt humiliated, but myself, my body, the mentor, everybody. Classmates got angry at our mentor for making such a big fuss over a bit of spilled water. I was happy for how she helped me and knew she was right about calling me out so the anger toward her was not justified. So I said I might have spilled sweets that stuck to the fabric and that it was my fault. The girl who caught me having a wet crotch never mentioned anything. She was one of the most popular girls in our who didn’t talk to me and avoided me anyway but from that day on I kept her even more on a distance. I felt like she did too, and that she was disgusted by me which I fully understood.
When I got home, I ripped the diaper from butt and quickly fell asleep. Suddenly I woke up in fear. I reached for my crotch and there was no diaper, not even a towel but I was dry. Despite the long sleep, the shame and hassle, I did not wet myself. My brain twisted and curled, convincing me like it did over and over again that it was my fault what happened the day before. That i could have easily avoided it when i would not think about pee and urge constantly. When I could just relax like everybody else. I created this drama because I was a coward, just like the mentor said. Afraid of my body, my bladder i freezed, unable to think and act rational. That night again was proof that I did not need any protection and I couldn’t believe I had walked almost a whole day wearing a pull up diaper as a 14 year old. I convinced myself I was no different than other 14 year olds. Just not strong enough, in muscle power, nor in mind. I just had to grow up, stop sleeping childish, think childish, act childish and wet myself like a child. There was nothing wrong with me, only that I couldn’t control my body. Control that had to be learned and earned by the right mindset. A mindset that I would change from that day on. I told myself, never again would I come in a situation like during the schooltrip. Never again would a girl have to look at me in disgust.
Of course it didn’t work out. I still had bedwetting episodes. I skipped every school trip or outing if I could. If not, my bladder pain and urge ruined all the fun. I still stuffed towels in my pants, just to be sure. Often ending up with a moist, cold crotch for hours. My body changed of the years, but my misunderstanding, self-hate and despair was fueled with every shameful event.
Living with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome 