My Sleep-Pissing Career
By Rico Swafford
Written on 5/27/2009
There are many things that I wish I could change about my drunken behavioral patterns. I have partially outgrown some of these behavioral patterns since graduating at Loras College. I made a transition from being a college party jackass, to more of a weekend warrior type of guy.
At this point, due to financial and career-related reasons, I am just want to quit drinking altogether, but there is just plain and simply nothing else that I can think of doing in Southeast Iowa other than going out to the bars on weekend nights. The main thing about me when I drink is that when I go past a certain point, I may become overly-sentimental, confrontational, impulsive, goofy, somewhat inconsiderate and am willing to take way too many risks. I could get away with this risk-taking behavior somewhere else, but not in Iowa. This is a fact. You know how some parents have those picture frames with photos of their children starting with Kindergarten and gradually moving up grade to grade until it gets to the middle picture, which is usually the senior picture? Well since the age of 17, I could have probably filled one of those things with my mugshots by now, all alcohol related. Iowa cops can be dicks, seriously. I have received 3 public intoxication tickets for just walking home from the bars. I can understand them being dicks to an extent. While I complain that there is nothing to do in Iowa except go to the bars and get drunk, the cops probably complain about having nothing to do except going out and trying to bust drunks.
Usually my drunken beligerent behavior occurs in extremes when I start drinking hard alcohol. I don’t know why there is such a difference of the effects that hard-alcohol have on my personality when compared to beer, but the difference is definitely apparent. I am more fun to be around when I am only drinking beer. When I drink hard liquor opposed to beer, I feel like some sort of drunken Terminator that feels the need to prance around and talk shit like Muhammad Ali. However, drinking beer opposed to drinking hard alcohol does have its negative effect as well. It makes me have to pee much more.
Some children were bed-wetters growing up. I had friends when I was younger who used to have to wear pull-ups every night before they went to bed. Most of them grew out of it by the time they were 10-11 years old.
A connection I have made over the years is that these same kids who were required to wear pull-ups to bed, are the same people who wet the bed every time they drink alcohol. If you have experienced the college-party scene, you will all know who and what I am talking about.
Everyone has at least a couple friends who wet the bed every time they drink alcohol….and I mean EVERY time they drink alcohol.
Three of my best friends immediately come to my mind when I think about this. I have never personally had much of a bed-wetting problem myself. I am not saying it has never happened. It has happened a couple of times, but not at a frequent or consistent pace. I don’t think it ever happened from the age of 1 and a half to about 22 years old. From the ages of 22-26, I have wet the bed about 2 or 3 times….all induced by indulging entirely way too much beer the night before. Bed-WETTING has never been too much of a problem for me. What I have been guilty of countless times, is sleep-walking, pissing on things and not having any recollection of it when I wake up the next morning. Here are a few of my most notable sleep-pissing occurrences.
My first sleep-pissing encounter happened when I was about 8 years old. My family was living with my grandpa Swafford because the house that I currently live in was being remodeled. We had just bought the house a couple months prior to this.
One night, I evidently drank an amazing amount of A+W Cream Soda before going to bed. This was my favorite beverage to drink when I was a tyke. One morning I woke up with my parents and my grandpa furious at me. I woke up and was like, “good morning guys.” My mother rolled her eyes, my grandpa Swafford stayed silent, and my dad angrily yelled, “JOSHUA! Are you aware of what you did last night?!?!”
I stood there confused and slightly nervous and replied, “umm, no…?” He then griped, “you woke up in the middle of the night and peed all over all of our coats in the closet!!! You peed all over your grandpa’s favorite leather jacket! Why’d you do that, dumbass!!?!?!!”
I didn’t have a response. I didn’t know why I did it, because I had absolutely no memory of this happening whatsoever. I was later told that Grandpa woke up and saw me doing this, picked me up and carried me to the toilet in the bathroom. I was peeing on the floor on the way to the bathroom the entire time he was carrying me. You would have thought that I would have woke up throughout all that commotion.
I had two senior years and two freshman years in college. I ended up becoming what most of you would refer to as a 6-year senior. Its not that I am dumb. When I am focused and motivated, I am actually relatively intelligent and decent at everything I try to do, with an exception of dancing and playing basketball. Its just that I wanted to take my sweet time in college. I didn’t want to be one of these people who you saw buried into books at the library every single night because they were always loaded with homework because they were taking 18 credits per semester. These people never seemed happy to me.
I wanted to be one of these people who was only in the library once every 3-4 weeks, cramming everything in all at once. This would enable me to have more time to live my life to a fuller extent. During my junior year, 1st senior year and 2nd senior year, the houses I lived in were the sources of many loud, interesting and relentless fiestas.
One of these particular nights, I fell asleep on the couch at about 12:30 AM, which was very uncharacteristic of me. Usually I was one of those stragglers who stayed awake until 5, sometimes 6, sometimes 7 in the morning. Not that night. That night, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up with a penis drawn on my face who someone designed with a permanent marker. That’s not all that happened though.
At around 1:00 AM, roughly 30-35 people were still awake and drinking themselves into a drunken stupor, when all the sudden I seemingly rose from the dead and started walking towards the entertainment center. Everyone who was there and partyin were under the impression that I thought the music was too loud and was going to turn the music down. That wasn’t the case. Instead of turning the music down, I started peeing all over my floor….right in front of everyone. After doing this, I walked directly back to the couch and started sleeping again.
My most notorious sleep-pissing story, occurred during my final year of college. This was my 2nd senior year. Around the time first semester midterm rolled along, I would drink myself silly and wake up to find that I had pissed in my hamper on a very consistent basis. I seriously couldn’t go out and get inebriated, without waking up the next morning to discover that the dirty clothes in my hamper were soaked in piss. It was becoming annoying.
One, I don’t like doing my laundry 4-5 times a week, and two, I don’t like going outside and spraying off my hamper in 10 below zero degree weather.
After about 3 months of this repetitive pissing in my hamper the mornings after getting drunk, I came up with a brilliant plan. It was obvious to me that for some reason when I drank alcohol, I subconsciously believed my hamper to be a toilet. So I figured the only way to ensure that I didn’t pee in my hamper, was to make sure that my hamper was nowhere near me when I went to bed on nights where I had a few too many drinks. Therefore, I moved my hamper to the basement. My room was upstairs, and on the other side of the house when compared to the entrance to the basement. I believed that by moving it there, I would wake up and have to pee and not be able to find my hamper, so I would travel to the nearest toilet which was right across the hallway from me, and pee in that like I was supposed to.
Did this strategy work? HELL NO! The first night that I had drank alcohol since brainstorming this plan was on a Tuesday night. A bar called “Fat Tuesdays” had a $2 pitcher deal going on. To say the least, I became pretty loose that night. In fact, I was loose as a goose as a goose can be loose.
When I woke up the next morning, I checked the room and was delighted to see that I hadn’t peed anywhere in my room. I thought to myself, “yes! I am finally peeing in the toilet again!” Then I went downstairs to check my hamper. The clothes in my hamper were SOAKED. And they weren’t soaked when I brought them down there in the first place. Evidently, I had sleepwalked from my room, which was on the other side of the house from the basement entrance that I entered, walked down the stairs, found my hamper and peed in it and walked all the way back upstairs to my bedroom and went back to sleep.
I was a psychology major, and the mere thought of this happening just left me completely dumbfounded. I had no idea what the psychology behind this occurring to me could have possibly been. Did I somehow start sub-consciously believing when I was drunken-sleeping, that my hamper was THE one and only toilet in the house? It is still absolutely beyond me to this day.
My next story occurred about 2 months after I had graduated from Loras College. I went on a camping trip in Dubuque, IA with some family and friends of mine. One of the nights we camped out, my dad and I partied until 3:30 in the morning with a couple of my college buddies that I hadn’t seen since graduation. We ended up partying and closing down the bars in Dubuque, IA and then crossed the creek to the East Dubuque bars in Illinois. For those of you who are not familiar with the bar situation in the Iowa/Illinois border region; the bars in Illinois stay open a couple hours longer than in Iowa. Therefore when the bars in Iowa close, the people who aren’t done partying yet (which is usually everybody) end up traveling across the river to party some more.
Well, my friends, my dad and I closed these bars down as well, and ended up having a cab drive us back to our campsite. I was pretty sloshed, so I fell asleep pretty easily, despite sleeping in an unbelievably uncomfortable tent.
The next morning I woke up around noonish’ to people telling me that at about 7:30 in the morning, I had exited the tent, waddled over to the neighbor’s (who I did not know, and happened to be awake making breakfast) campfire, whipped out my big, tremendous penis and started peeing right in front of their campfire.
The people who saw this taking place, told me that as I was walking over there, I appeared to be a cross between Frankenstein and one of those zombies from “The Night of the Living Dead.” And when they saw this “Frankenzombie” version of me peeing in front of these complete stranger’s campfire, they were all like, “Swaff!!!! What are you doing!?!?!?!?!” When I apologized to these complete stranger neighbor-campers the next day, they were pretty cool about it. They were like, “ahh its cool buddy, we’ve all been there.” Yeah, I’m sure we have.
My last story occurred less than a year ago I believe. I had traveled to Iowa City for my routine bar-check. The night was pretty fun and me and some other people ended up crashing at a girl named Brittney Mears’s house. I ended up crashing on the couch at about 3 or 4 AM. I woke up at about 9 AM, to hear someone screaming, “eww!!! Someone peed on the floor!!!”
I was immediately suspicious that it was me due to my track record of sleep-walking and peeing in random places, but I sure as heck wasn’t going to admit to it yet. Then I hear someone saying, “oh my God! Whoever did this, took their underwear off when they did it!!! Oh my God!!!” This was followed by heaps of laughter. And finger-pointing as to who it may have been.
I then took a look at the underwear, and thought they looked familiar, but I didn’t think they were mine. They looked darker than the ones I was wearing the night before (probably due to them being soaked.)
I then checked to see if my underwear were still on. They weren’t. My shorts were on, but my undies most definitely weren’t on. It was me who peed on the floor and left my undies sitting in the piss-puddle.
As everyone was trying to figure out who the culprit was, I was frantically trying to figure out a way that I could pick up my undies and leave without them noticing that I grabbed them in the first place.
The investigation of “who did it?” went on for a little longer than I expected. Every time someone asked if it was me, I was like, “ahh hell no, I’ve been sleeping on this couch the whole night, and I NEVER do anything like that.” Which was a complete lie.
After about 30 minutes of the “who pissed on the floor investigation” I really had to leave, so I decided to just give in. I stood up, walked over to the piss-puddle, grabbed my underwear, and everyone looked at me with very confused faces, like, “why is this guy picking up those piss-soaked underpants that he claimed didn’t belong to him.” I then blurted out, “well, if you guys want me to clean up this piss mess then I will, I just don’t want to leave without my underwear.”
The cat was out of the bag. It was me who not only peed on their floor, but took my underwear off before doing so, and now everyone knew it. Everybody started erupting with laughter, which was kind of a relief to me. I would rather them laugh hysterically about it than be super pissed at me. (No pun intended.)
The one thing that confused me was, why on earth did I take my underwear off before peeing on their floor…and then put my shorts back on? I remember pulling my pants all the way down to my ankles when I peed as a young jackass. I did this from the time I was potty-trained until I was about 6 years old. I think every little boy did this. In fact, there was this dude in my grade who did this as a 5th grader. Every time I saw him do this, I used to think to myself, “Gosh what a stupid little penis-wrinkle.” Penis-wrinkle was my primary comeback in those days.
Is that what happened to me though? Did I drink myself to the level of stupidity where I was thinking like my 4 year old self again? Did I pull my pants down to my ankles when I peed, and my underwear just happened to fall off? Who knows.
When it comes down to it, I think I understand myself pretty well, but some of the things I do which are associated with peeing when I have been drinking, I will never fully understand. And it always seems to happen on nights where I am only drinking beer. The fact that I have no memory or recollection of any of these occurrences frustrates me even more. Oh well, its something to laugh at now I guess.