I Am Incontinent

That's Right, n' I'm Talkin' About It

I am incontinent (leaks, sometimes severe) and that's okay and I should be allowed to say it. It shouldn't be shameful. I get bladder leaks, like, all the time. Sometimes it gets in my clothes. Yup. I have to wear pads. Yeah. Is it oversharing? I don't think so. This is a medical issue that has led to a lot of strife, trauma, and confusing feelings in me. Yeah, Suzu is incontinent too, because Suzu is me.

Still to this day it is a shameful thing for me. When I had gone to a psych ward last year, one of the first things the doctor asked me about was the medical history surrounding my bladder leaks, he said, "Sometimes you wet on yourself? We wouldn't want that happening," something like that, English wasn't his first language. It was within ear shot of my roomate not that I think she minded much. I hope she's doing okay, I gave away a pair of Juicy Couture pants to her (they looked better on her anyway).

The way the doctor said it, while I don't think he was ill intentioned, felt humiliating.

Humiliating. That's the magic word. Incontinence is humiliating. Especially if you never get medical treatment for it until adulthood (thanks Mom and Dad). It makes you into a powerless spectacle.

Work

For context, I waitress and bartend, though I think that will change soon.

It's hard to work when I don't wear a pad. And when I do, it's still nerve wracking wondering when the next leak will hit and tip the pad's threshold. One day at work, I nearly had a full accident. Urine ran down one leg. YEAH. I swear my coworker noticed but didn't say anything (appreciated, please don't.) While I prefer the awkward silence, it was still awkward. It makes me feel stupid and incompetent when it happens too especially at work. Makes me wanna curl up and die.

Then, just the other day at work, I was desperate. And as one does when desperate, I wiggled. I swear a different coworker this time knew what was happening and I hate that. No one else ever has this. No one else I know is ever desperate suddenly like that. Again, it makes me feel stupid.

Childhood and Suzu

Suzu is incontinent. Just like me. Same problems. He is really just a trauma vessel (sorry Suzu, I had to do it to you). Just like I was as a kid. I wet the bed. That shouldn't be shameful but part of me doesn't want to type it. I'm not going to pretend these things didn't happen to me because they did. I had public accidents. My Mom and Dad never helped me. All of it was clouded in deafening silent shame.

I got frequent and sometimes severe leaks as a child just as I do now. Now, I wear pads or change my underwear. But as a kid? Ha. I stayed in the dirty clothes and I often smelled of urine. I used to try to dry my pants and underwear on my blankets (I know it's gross, I was a neglected child, okay?), my bed always smelled of urine.

My mom used to sneak pull-ups on me at night after I'd fall asleep because I hated to put them on myself. I hated them. So much. First thing in the morning I'd change like my life depended on it. Always with a pit in my gut. I still remember waking up during some of those secret midnight changes--I always pretended to be asleep.

Suzu Holds It

Suzu holds it. Suzu holds my trauma. Suzu holds my mental illness. Suzu holds my physical illness. Suzu holds my weird passions. Suzu holds my weird hatred. Suzu hold my violence and anger. Suzu holds my love and desperation for friendship. Suzu holds everything in me. Suzu is really important. All I'm asking anyone, is to please let me have this. Please let me have the one thing that's brought me comfort and stability since age eleven. Please let me share with others who need just as much. Please let me share it with others who simply enjoy it without sharing the trauma. Please let me connect with others through the deepest part of me.

Don't look down on me for being fucked up by life and daring to have the gall to depict it in fiction.