![]() ![]() I no longe urinate the bed daily though my life is still enamoured with urine and my urine related activities and linings. When I had moved out I began peeing in my sink (I still do this exclusively) until the drain became caked in old state urine and my dishes were effected by such - I went as far as to substitute olive oil in many dishes for my own urine when becoming interested in culinary arts, though it evaporates very quickly and loses its flavour profile just as fast. I would drink litres of my own urine a day, and sometimes still engage with that habit though not nearly as frequently. My bedroom and living room carpet became my toilet, urinating anywhere and everywhere I could until I resorted to drinking it around age 18. I began to pee anywhere I could find in my room as the complexities of my psychiatric issues intensified as I aged into teenage hood. ![]() These examples of my relationship with my own urine became so common that it began to bleed over into my personal, academic, and social environment as I began to constantly carry around a smell of urine anywhere I went - my clothing, my hair, my belongings all reeked like months-old pee. She had just had a sip in an attempt to quench her thirst when in reality she had just swigged her child's urine - she was disgusted with who I had became and was not hesitant to inform me about such. I was once in grade 8 English class when I received a text that my mother had sent me regarding her mistaking an Arizona Ice Tea that I had urinated in (luckily only a couple of weeks old) that I had left out in my bedroom. I soon came to consciousness with my mother hovering above me crying staring at my three garbage bags full of month old urine that I had been gathering. I had succumb to the dizziness and nausea at a point while clearing out a particularly old and foul batch of urine, passing out and subsequently spilling said urine all over the bath rug, the floor, and myself. I would leave my urine collection for months at a time while biology ran its course and turned the urine very dark, the odour of ammonia becoming physically dizzying in it’s nature without proper masking, luckily both my caregivers worked in healthcare and there was an excess of masks around the house. I would fill my two dressers with roughly 60-70 Litres of my own urine at a time, waiting for the hours my parents car would leave the house so I could don a biohazard mask and gloves, and dispose of such a collection. from 2L paper, orange juice cartons - to cans, to wine glasses and coffee mugs, I was peeing everywhere. ![]() Needless to say - I did not have access to a bathroom and began urinating in various different containers. I also was competing in fairly ranked competitive Call Of Duty tournaments that would take up a large majority of the time I spend forcefully locked behind the deadbolts of my parents isolation rooms that I would be tortured in. I began to be incredibly desensitized to the feeling of urine pooling around my body like a bath-tub, gripping me with its warmth while my mattress became brown in shade quite quickly over the years, along with a significant odour that presented itself soon-after. This enhanced and played directly into the night-terrors and insomnia that lined all years of my childhood and still plague me to this very day. Waking me up at all hours of the night for check-ins to ensure my bed was not peed-in again, always resulting in an answer that was not accepted kindly to them as I had always wet the bed when they checked. Wetting my bed became one of the defining reasons my guardians would use as a catalyst to justify the torture that they would bestow upon me. Though I did spend my early and late years of my childhood, and young teens being physically and emotionally punished to the extreme of extremes that such would absolutely be classified as human torture methods. I believe the age of 18 is when I had stopped urinating in my mattress nightly, and began to have a minor relief to the punishments that would be facilitated by my guardians as I had moved out by that age. I had a severe bedwetting issue that resulted in a cherry on top to the mounding reasoning behind my pure self hatred as a human that lasted throughout my childhood and well into my late-teens. Since I was a small child I have had a social-conventionally unusual fascination and engagement with urine, my own or others as a sample. This is zero percent trolling in any sense of the term, and I am willing to fully clarify and legitimize this post in evidence-based proof whether physical or mental. ![]()
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