Day 82 - Bladder Psychology
As a 28 year old man, pissing myself in public isn't something I enjoy. Even a four year old isn't particularly happy with that deal, but 28? That's seven times worse! I recently used this maths to console a wet trousered four year old, before being accosted by its mother and promptly escorted away by the police. Fortunately in my life I have so far managed to avoid pissing myself in public, so that's the good news. The bad news it seems that the likelihood of this nightmare becoming reality seems to be increasing at an alarming pace.
In preparation for Glastonbury, a sprawling event with oceans of people standing between yourself and a toilet which threatens expulsion for having the nerve to not piss in a toilet, I have been attempting to train my bladder to withstand higher quantities of liquid for prolonged periods of time. In doing so I have come to the conclusion that a large part of the sensation of needing a wee, at least the last-chance desperate sensation, is psychological. Obviously the predominant driver is physical, there is physically only so much liquid a bladder can hold, but since I have been thinking more about weeing, the sudden onset of immediate desperation has increased rapidly.
One minute I'm absolutely fine, the next minute I'm squirming in discomfort and crossing my legs to thwart a humiliating outpour, then the next minute I'm absolutely fine again. I can then go another solid hour or so without release, but similar to asthma worsening on realisation I don't have my inhaler, the ability to not wee is only possible with the assurance of toilet availability. It's a real catch 22 (I think, I haven't actually read it, but I do own it, so in a way I sort of have read it, I've at least seen it a lot) which won't help my cause at Glastonbury.
In preparation for Glastonbury, a sprawling event with oceans of people standing between yourself and a toilet which threatens expulsion for having the nerve to not piss in a toilet, I have been attempting to train my bladder to withstand higher quantities of liquid for prolonged periods of time. In doing so I have come to the conclusion that a large part of the sensation of needing a wee, at least the last-chance desperate sensation, is psychological. Obviously the predominant driver is physical, there is physically only so much liquid a bladder can hold, but since I have been thinking more about weeing, the sudden onset of immediate desperation has increased rapidly.
One minute I'm absolutely fine, the next minute I'm squirming in discomfort and crossing my legs to thwart a humiliating outpour, then the next minute I'm absolutely fine again. I can then go another solid hour or so without release, but similar to asthma worsening on realisation I don't have my inhaler, the ability to not wee is only possible with the assurance of toilet availability. It's a real catch 22 (I think, I haven't actually read it, but I do own it, so in a way I sort of have read it, I've at least seen it a lot) which won't help my cause at Glastonbury.
I have so many valves which need strengthening.
The other day, as I am in training, I decided that I will push myself, so I left the pub without going to the toilet. I got half way home and then it struck with its unmerciful immediacy. Within seconds I was in a desperate scramble to find a secluded corner or a tree but everywhere in sight was round and urbanised. By the time I finally saw some trees I was close to detonation and dizzied by a frantic trance. It was in this state when I realised that my last chance to be spared was in clear sight of a field of playing children. Bewildered and pained, I moved onwards, desperately zigzagging, scanning every possible option and just at the point of no return, I hurdled a miniature fence into a semi-treed area (still very much visible to houses but this had to be it now) and unleashed a commanding powerful piss which violently assaulted the ground beneath me. Due to my being in a state of absolute panic, the coordination and timings hit a slight imbalance and the release onset every so slightly before intended, leaving a very visible damp patch in the exact area which made it very apparent how much of a pathetic loser I am. I wouldn't quite call it pissing myself, but it was as close as it comes. A 10 minute walk of shame down a main road followed, as I attempted to hide the wet patch by dragging down my T-shirt, whilst contradictorily trying to not draw more attention towards it.
This is what happens when you try to strengthen yourself. You become weak and pathetic. I'm not looking forward to pissing myself at Glastonbury and in my lowest moment getting kicked out for it.
Right, I need a wee.
The other day, as I am in training, I decided that I will push myself, so I left the pub without going to the toilet. I got half way home and then it struck with its unmerciful immediacy. Within seconds I was in a desperate scramble to find a secluded corner or a tree but everywhere in sight was round and urbanised. By the time I finally saw some trees I was close to detonation and dizzied by a frantic trance. It was in this state when I realised that my last chance to be spared was in clear sight of a field of playing children. Bewildered and pained, I moved onwards, desperately zigzagging, scanning every possible option and just at the point of no return, I hurdled a miniature fence into a semi-treed area (still very much visible to houses but this had to be it now) and unleashed a commanding powerful piss which violently assaulted the ground beneath me. Due to my being in a state of absolute panic, the coordination and timings hit a slight imbalance and the release onset every so slightly before intended, leaving a very visible damp patch in the exact area which made it very apparent how much of a pathetic loser I am. I wouldn't quite call it pissing myself, but it was as close as it comes. A 10 minute walk of shame down a main road followed, as I attempted to hide the wet patch by dragging down my T-shirt, whilst contradictorily trying to not draw more attention towards it.
This is what happens when you try to strengthen yourself. You become weak and pathetic. I'm not looking forward to pissing myself at Glastonbury and in my lowest moment getting kicked out for it.
Right, I need a wee.
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