Yet Another Exposure Therapy

I was at my therapist’s today and we did yet another exposure therapy in preparation of this trip.  Well, we did a couple things.  I just don’t feel I’m prepared enough before this first trip – this was only the 3rd week we were able to prepare.    I drank water before I got there because I wanted to be sure I needed to go to the bathroom 2 times.  I was going to bring water inside but since I already needed to go when I got there I felt like I didn’t need to.  It would have been good because I always feel funny drinking in front of others thinking they are thinking I’m asking for problems.  My therapist said I can always get water there, too.  But I had no problems today have to go to the bathroom 2 times so I didn’t need to do any of that.   When I got there I told her I wanted to go next door to the store/restaurant but I needed to go so we have to go soon.  I showed her the “products” I brought (diaper pull on thing and heavier pad that were each in separate cases) and she wanted to see again the diapers.  I had 3 in the pack.  I gave her the pack, she looked, gave it back to me.  I also told her I wanted to put the heavier pad on to see if she could tell if I’m wearing it beneath my jeans.    So she asked me if I wanted to do that now and I said yes but we have to hurry.  I asked her to look at me, front and back, without it on and then she turned around while I put it on.  Then she looked again.  She said she couldn’t see anything but I sure felt it – big and bulky.  I told her again how I needed to go to the bathroom and we better go.  She turned around again while I took it off, I took my 5.00 with me to buy something at the bakery counter for us and we left.   We went out her office, down a flight of stairs and by the time we were down and just opening the door to go outside I told her that I really needed to go.  She asked me if I wanted not to do this and go back.  I told her, no – I wanted to try.  So we went out the door and into the parking lot.  To get to the store we had to go through that parking lot to the store’s parking lot.  Not very far at all.    We were still walking on our parking lot and I told her, “I don’t think I can do this.”  She kind of looked stunned for maybe just a half a second and I’m not sure if she told me we’ll walk back or just suggested it.  I think she said, "Do you want to go back.  We'll go back."  Maybe I nodded yes, maybe we just started walking back - I can't remember.   I think the stunned look was more of a she realized how serious I was and how badly I did need to go.  So we both turned around to go back, her first and while I was turning around I started wetting my pants.  I put my hands down to my thighs and kind of bent forward trying to cover up my pants getting wet.  I think I said, “I’m going.  What do I do?  I don’t have anything.” I was so embarrassed.   I guess she caught my hesitation to follow and turned around to look at me.  We were, though, still walking towards the door because I had to get inside.  I wasn’t going to stand out there wetting my pants and with wet pants on the parking lot.  She asked me if I wanted to go upstairs and go down the hall to the bathroom and she’ll bring me my clothes (I always keep a change there in her office just in case).  I told her no, I’ll go downstairs, I can’t go upstairs.  I just remembering her opening up the door shaking her head yes saying, “Ok. Ok.”  Like she knew I was wetting my pants and the predicament I was in.  I couldn’t go upstairs where there might be people to see.   I went downstairs to the bathroom (where people rarely go) and she went upstairs to her office to get my clothes and brought them back to me.  I don’t think she looked but I don’t know what she saw earlier.  I don’t know how much I was actually able to cover up.  She came inside the bathroom and put them (in a bag) on the floor next to the stall and asked me if I wanted her to wait for me outside or go back upstairs to her office.  I told her to wait for me.  I like her to wait.  I’m not sure why.  Maybe to make sure I don’t leave and not want to come back.    I changed and we both walked up the 2 flights of stairs back to her office.  I told her, “Darn, I wanted something from the bakery.”  She said I’ll have to go back later.  When we got back the first thing I said was that that didn’t go like I would have liked it.  She said, “That’s OK.  You tried.”  She had some tom-tom drums and had me play them as hard as I could.  I was a little shy about that.  First I beat a pillow with my fists.  She said that’s helpful when things like this happen.   We talked a little about what if this happened with other people.  I said, “Yeah … what would I have done if I didn’t have you there to go get my change of clothes?”  She said that was OK because we planned and were prepared for this.  So we spend much time talking about what I need to do on this vacation with my daughter, her boyfriend and my grandson.  First we talked about day time stuff.  Then I knew we had to move on to night time stuff.    I told her I would try on that diaper but I wanted to try again with that heavier pad, which seemed to be bigger than the brand I used last week.  That I wanted to try to put it more in the front and try again laying on the floor and seeing what happens when I need to go to the bathroom again.  Like a bedwetting thing because I usually sleep on my tummy.  I said, “Watch, I’ll be sleeping on my back or my side.”  She didn’t say anything.    So I did need to go again but I put that diaper on first.  It was horrible!  I didn’t keep it on very long.  I brought pj bottoms so I put those on, too instead of my jeans.  The diaper felt big, and bulky and so much padding.  She looked and said she couldn’t tell – front or back.  I said I could hear it.  She had me walk and said she couldn’t hear it but knew I could.  I sat down.  By then I really needed to go to the bathroom again and told her maybe once or twice.  So I took the diaper off and put on that heavier pad, then put the pj bottoms back on.  I asked her to lay down with me.  She said she couldn’t lay because she got an injection yesterday.  I said empathetically, “Oh, you’re sore.  That’s OK.”  So she just sat down on the floor with me while I laid.  That explains why she didn’t lay with me last week.  Last year we did this once and she laid down with me like we were having a slumber party (on our tummies, heads together).   She asked me if I was going to put plastic down.  Yes, and I laid on top of a bag like last week.  I didn’t want to get her rug wet – just in case.  I told her I was still going to try to wait.  She repeated it like as I always try to do – wait as long as I can.  She even reminded me it’s safe there as I was laying down.  That was reassuring.  Last week as soon as I laid down I started going – not being able to hold it at all.  This time I told her I’m trying not to lay completely flat because I think that’s what happened last week – the pressure of the hard floor.    But it wasn’t long – maybe another minute or so of trying to hold it when I said, “I don’t think I can hold it any longer.”  Maybe she said, “OK.”  I glanced up and I think she just looked away but I couldn’t look at her.  I just put my head down.  I don’t think there was any, if at all, conversation going on during this whole time I was trying to hold it or when I was actually going.  It’s uncomfortable – I wish we were talking about something – even if I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it.  When I was done I just said, “OK, what do I do now?”  I then looked up.  She asked me, “Are you done?”  “Yes.”    She asked me if I wanted her to look to see if it worked or if I wanted to.  I told her I wanted to look first.  So I kind of sat up while she looked away.  I told her it was wet on one side in the front.  I was kind of sitting so she couldn’t really see so she was facing me now.  She asked me if I wanted her to look.  “Ok,” I said.  I finally gave in.  It wasn’t as bad as my jeans all wet like usually.  So she looked and she said, “I see it.”  I told her I waned to change.  So she again looked away.  I did and when I was done told her it was a little on the other side, too.  So, I’m not sure if it really worked or not.  They were pretty wet in that area.  She did comment when I first laid down that it was only ½ hour since I went before.  I guess thinking maybe I wouldn’t have that much in my bladder yet but I told her I had been drinking.   I told her I really didn’t want to wear that diaper thing.  She wants to name it a funny name and she decided on “Big Bertha”.  I told her this sounds terrible but if I do wet my bed why can’t I just say my grandson did it.  He does still wet his bed occasionally.  My daughter did say I may wake up wet – not knowing about my bedwetting problem at all.  I told her how someone on Oprah said her dog is incontinent and her dog and kids sleep with her and when she wakes up soaked she doesn’t know who did it!  We laughed.  In fact, we tried to laugh about many things about this today.  I think she’s trying to keep it light and a sense of humor about it.   She said she would hate to lie to kids.  I said he’d say his pants aren’t wet.  She suggested if I do get the bed wet to keep a bag with a change of clothes (pajamas) by my bed if I’m like against the wall, to change into so no one would know.  I told her if it was in the middle of the night I’d have to change and get towels or something.  I couldn’t sleep on a wet bed.  So if I’d wake up wet I’d have to keep that hidden.  When I sleep with my friends on my girl trip I couldn’t do this at all.  I’ll have to wear the diaper.  I can’t say they did it!    I told her I’m so scared I’m going to have an accident with them – daytime or night time.  She knows.  And, she knows the likelihood it may happen.  A good chance with being away from home not knowing or being able to get to bathrooms in time.  So it was more like then I have to deal with it without feeling bad and not getting into my quiet shame mode.  Because it probably will happen.  And, my family doesn’t know how bad this is.  She keeps wanting me to talk to my daughter but today said she understands how a parent wouldn’t want their kids to know some things about them.  I told her, “I bet you wish you had a hidden camera.”  She laughed and said she can’t wait to hear my stories.    OK … so what I can say is she is so very sweet.  She lets me do whatever I want in our sessions (almost 100% of the time).  She’s there with me, talks to me, doesn’t make me feel bad and is so supportive.  I feel so lucky to have her as my therapist.  So you can see how guilty I feel about being mad at her.  It’s really just about the phone calls to her and the talking – the tape recorder thing.  I guess that’s where she has to draw her limits.  But, I still don’t quiet understand why when it was working so much for me.  So, as hard as it is, I have to look past that and just be greatfull how wonderful she is in other ways.    So before I left I asked her to do 2 things for me.  One I knew she would do, the other I wasn’t sure.  She did both last year when I went on my ‘girl’ trip.   I asked her to call my cell phone and leave an encouraging message that I can call in to listen to anytime I needed to on my trip.  She said she would and she did later in the day.  I also asked her to call me two times during the trip.  She said she would!  I said Saturday, after we get there, and then again on Monday.  She said she would!  Ok … now I really can’t be mad at her.  I’m just afraid something will happen again and I’ll get mad.  I hate conflicts and being mad.    She did also said some nice things.  She said how I’m very healthy,  have a lot of energy, I look a lot younger than my age and do a lot of things that people my age don’t.  I just have this one problem.  I guess she was trying to uplift my spirits and help me to realize how lucky I am so I can not feel bad about this one thing.    I called my cousin in the city we are going to and we are going to try to see each other.  I  didn’t earlier because I wasn’t sure we’d have the time.  I didn’t call another cousin there because she’s harder to get to/her get to us.  I’d love to see her too but we’ll have to play that by ear.  I also called my cousin here again who called me yesterday almost in a panic about her family and we had a nice conversation.  She said my phone calls meant a lot.    Tomorrow my little grandson is going to hang out with me.  He has no school and my daughter has to go into work.  So he’ll run around with me.  I also have to finish packing.  I started tonight and it’s so sad how I have to bring so many extra pants and underwear.  What if they notice?  Why do you have so many?  What am I supposed to say.   OK .. so I just have to think about the fun I’ll have on vacation with them.  I can’t worry about if I’ll have an accident.  My therapist said I’ll know what to do, I’ll be prepared.  But she doesn’t realize in the moment I never know what’s going to happen and I hope I don’t freeze with my brain going on “vacation.”  She said if it was her she’d wear Big Bertha even in the car.  No way – I haven’t even decided if I’m going to wear it at night.  And, what if my daughter sees it in my case?  She can be a little nosy.    I have to stop worrying and just enjoy.  I’ve prepared, she’s going to call me.  What else could I want?  I know … this problem to go away but I know that’s not realistic.  Alright.