4. The Storm

Things get worse

One thing was being teased and bullied, there was very little I could do about that. I did hope that I could control the bed-wetting. I tried everything to avoid it like not drinking anything after supper and I tried visiting the toilet several times before I went to bed. On top of all this, I prayed and prayed that God would help me and cure whatever caused me to wet the bed.

Nothing happened. In fact, it became worse. I started wetting the bed every day. I was at school now for about 3 weeks and it was just becoming worse. There was no one to confide in. I didn’t want to tell Brother Francis because his solution was just diapers. I had no friend to ask if this was normal or not. There was no friend to tell how worried I was. The bed-wetting was getting hard to hide and it was causing a lot of confusion in my mind.

Brother Francis called me during a study hour, and I knew what this meant. He told me to visit his room that night before I went to bed. This was the start of a daily visit to him, where he would help me put on a diaper. I remember the first time that this happened. Despite that Brother Francis treated me with the utmost respect, it was the most humiliating thing that I tried. It was like any self-esteem and pride that was left disappeared, and I was once again a baby. It was hard walking back to the dorm and hoping no one would see how bulky they were or how noisy diapers can be.

During the day, the other boys continued to tease me and try to convince themselves that I was weak and too much like a girl. Shane was one that ended up doing his best in humiliating me. Shane was someone that always boasted that his dad was a member of parliament. He tried one day to humiliate me when he invited me into the billiards room. I was challenged to a game and was reluctant to do this. There were other boys there wanting some entertainment. I was not all that interested in accepting the challenge, as I knew it was just a setup and an excuse to humiliate me more. It was also a chance for Shane to show how tough he could be. I was to be the victim of their entertainment. However, I ended up playing billiards.

Surprisingly I won and it was the first good thing that happened to me in weeks. Maybe this would show them that I was not totally a lost cause. This was not the case, as one of the boys pushed me to the floor and hit me with a billiard stick. I started crying which just made them mock me more. I looked as they left me on the ground. They were giving each other high fives. Shane was the only one that did not smile. He had this worried look on his face. Shane may have been worried, but he did not help me.

Things did not get better nor did they become worse. When people saw me, they flung insults at me. They would repeat and again that I was a sissy and they thought I was gay. No one ever wanted to be around me, not even the brothers or the staff. The only person I had contact with was Brother Francis.

I was finally allowed to go home for the weekend. I was looking forward to this as it was a place where people knew me, and I was not looked down at. It was a place where I had friends, and they did not consider me weird. I was worried about the bed-wetting. What would mom say when she found out that I now wore diapers at nighttime? What would my brothers say?

Things were not as I expected. Nothing changed when I was at home. Everyone was the same. It was me that was different. I was now a wounded creature and the scars from the way I was treated still hurt. I hid in my bedroom all weekend and did not speak with anyone. When mom tried to speak with me, I would tell her that I had to study and do homework. This annoyed my mother, as she asked why would I come home and hide inside my bedroom?

To be honest, I do not know why I was not social. I was relieved when I did not wet the bed at home. However, the time at home was like I was counting down the hours until I had to go back to school. My mom could see that I was not happy and this worried her. She asked me if everything was OK at school and if I was happy to be there. I did not respond. I kicked myself after as this was my chance to come back home. I lost a golden opportunity.

It was soon time to go back to school. As soon as I came back, I was called in Brother Francis’ room where he helped me with the diaper. After this, I went and sat on my bed thinking that I was once again in hell.

Shane came to my cubical and wanted to apologize to me for what he did in the billiard room.

“You may be different. You are a sissy and likes boys,” he said, “but it was wrong for me to bully you. I do admire your courage. I could never survive what you have. This does not mean that we can be friends. It means that I will not be one of those that makes your life hell here.”

Shane asked me why I had to visit Brother Francis every night. He told me that if Brother Francis was abusing me that I should not accept it. Shane told me to tell someone if I was being hurt. Then he noticed the top of my diaper showing above my pajama pants. Shane did not laugh but simply said that he knew now why I visited Brother Francis. He put his hand on my shoulder and said that I should be careful never to let the others notice. Things would be far worse for me.

Shane did not tell the others what he saw. His conversation did make me think. Did the other boys think that Brother Francis was abusing me? This confused me as Brother Francis was the nicest person at the school. He was not like that and did not want to hurt me. The choir leader was different. He was supervising study hour one day when he came to my desk and called me a traitor. He told me that I did not care that the choir and the musical needs me. Of course, everyone heard this and this made things worse for me.

I was now teased that I did not have the school spirit. They must have has short memories as when I was in the choir, I was not wanted, and I was even beaten up.

My reputation was now sealed at the school. No one wanted to be my friend, and people were afraid to be seen with me. They were afraid that they would be accused of being my boyfriend, or they were as weird as me. The only time I had contact with others is when they wanted to tease or humiliate me. They would call me sissy, gay, and princess and ask if I wanted to be a girl. Some would ask strange questions like could I get pregnant or did I sit down when I was in the bathroom.

Even the two small boys I meet in the first week continued to tease me. It must have been fun for them to have an opportunity to bully an older boy.

My reaction was the same every time I was teased or humiliated. I tried not to show how it affected me. I tried to show that it did not bother me. I ignored it by not responding or walking away. When I was alone, I would bury my head in my hands and cry. It also meant that I never spoke. There was no one to speak with. I was alone in one of the largest schools in the country.

Every time I thought that things could not get worse, I was disappointed. They could and they did become worse!

One night we had a film evening. Brother Francis wanted me to get ready before the film as he would be asleep when the film was over. So I had a diaper under my jeans as we saw the film. The film was about a girl that dressed up as a boy to get on the sports team. I thought the film was good. At that stage, I thought any film was good as it was an escape from reality.

After the film was over, the boys gathered around me and asked me was I like the girl in the film. Was I really a girl that was dressed as a boy to be at a boy's school. I tried my usual thing as I did not respond and tried to walk by them. This was not possible as I was cornered.

One boy wanted me to prove that I was not a girl, so they pulled down my jeans as for the first time I was in tears. Everything became so silent as the boys did not know what to say when they saw me wearing a diaper. They all stood back and were in shock. Then came the outburst of laughter. I was now a baby princess. I was asked if I wanted a baby bottle or should I not have a crib. Others were a bit ruder as they called me piss-pants.

I ran as quickly as I could. The next few days were hell. Everyone knew about the diaper, and they were convinced I was really a girl pretending to be a boy. I was stuck in a black hole where my spirit and self-esteem was destroyed. The worse thing was that I was beginning to believe what the boys said. Was I so different?

I found myself in the Chapel once again where I was in tears pleading for God and all the saints to help me.

“Stop whining” Brother Aiden (the choir teacher) shouted. “You are praying so loud that I could not even pray. Stop whining and feeling sorry for yourself. The others tease you because you do not have the school spirit. You do not belong here. Maybe you should go back to your old school!”

Brother Aiden was right. Why be at a place where I was not wanted. I had no friends and everyone thought I was weird. I never spoke with anyone and slowly this school was killing me.

I went down to the telephone booth and phoned mom.

“Hi Sweetie,” she said, “How is school?”

I started crying and could not speak as weeks of tears were now gushing out. When I could speak, I told mom that I wanted to go home. How soon can they be here to pick me up

To be continued