It’s strange how the past can sneak up on you when you least expect it. I never thought something as simple as stress could affect my life so deeply, and yet, here I am, struggling with something I thought I left behind in my college days.

Back then, I was always the “go-getter,” the person who had everything together—at least, that’s how I wanted to appear. But in one particular semester, everything fell apart. Between the pressure of exams, personal struggles, and life piling on, I lost control. My grades were slipping, and stress was eating me alive. Then, just as the final exams were about to begin, I woke up one morning to find I had wet the bed.

At first, I thought it was just a one-off thing, a result of stress. I laughed it off, tried to convince myself it was just a fluke. But it happened again the night before my last exam. This time, I wasn’t laughing. I was mortified, confused, and beyond embarrassed. I had spent most of my life feeling like I was in control of everything—my thoughts, my goals, my future—but this? This felt like something I couldn’t control.

Fast forward to now, I’m in my 30s, and the same thing keeps happening. It’s as if the stress I thought I had left behind in my younger years followed me. This week, it happened again. I woke up at 4:35 AM, drenched in embarrassment and frustration. Three times in one week. How? Why?

I know there’s no rational explanation for it, but it’s hard not to feel like something’s wrong with me. I wonder if I’ll keep waking up like this, more often, as time passes. Will it become a nightly occurrence? Will it become who I am, someone who can’t even control their own body when the pressure mounts?

The worst part is, the anxiety about it only makes it worse. I’ve become so fixated on the idea that it could happen again that I feel it creeping up on me at the most inopportune moments. The fear of it happening, of others noticing or finding out, only magnifies the stress in my life, and the cycle continues. It feels like a never-ending loop of pressure, anxiety, and embarrassment.

I don’t know how to stop it. I’ve tried to talk about it, but it’s one of those things that no one really knows how to respond to. I try to push it to the back of my mind, to tell myself it’s not a big deal, but when it happens again, it shakes me to my core.

Maybe one day, I’ll find a way to break the cycle, to stop the fear from controlling me. Maybe the stress will subside, and I’ll feel like I’m in control again. But for now, I just have to keep moving forward, hoping it won’t happen again… at least, not anytime soon.