My mother found that I'd been wetting my bed again a few weeks ago and yesterday she approached me about it. But she doesn't know that I've been doing it on purpose. Naturally though, I felt like crap for a few hours after that but then incredibly excited later. It had been my fantasy of the past 13 years of my life come true; I've wanted to become a bedwetter again and as far as she knows, now I am. But once that feeling wore off I went back to feeling like shit. This morning I talked to her about it and asked her to buy me some plastic sheets so I didn't ruin the mattress. This is going to be another fantasy come true for me. Sleeping on plastic sheets like a real bedwetter again. But it feels like I've taken the first step down a dark path from which I will never be able to return. This is the first active step I've ever taken towards indulging my bedwetting fetish but it feels like I never really had a choice. At times I've tried so hard to give it up and looking back on it now I can see that I never had a chance. It's just part of the way I am. I don't know what's going to happen when I move out of home or get a girlfriend but this is going to be something I can't escape and that scares the shit out of me. I promised myself years ago that I'd never post here and become like all of you [no offence intended] but it seems like there's no point in fighting it any more so here I am. I've never been so excited and so terrified at something before. It is a truely unique and a truely horrible feeling. I just wanted to get this off my chest so thanks for reading.
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