I was punished (although I use the term punished loosely) abused would be more apt, as a child.
I was about nine when my mother dragged my sister and I away from a stable home and a good providing father, in favor of a much younger man who had nothing to offer as far as my sister and I were concerned. He took to my sister but hated me from the very start:
We ended up living in a run down rented house, and the whole situation was horrible. As a result of all of this I started wetting the bed. My mother would just shout and slap me about at first, but then her new man told her that I should be in nappies.
So one day I came home from school one day to find my mother sitting in her arm chair smoking a cigarette, and wearing a smug grin. I knew something that I wasn't going to like was coming my way. "these are for you she said" pointing to a pile of folded white towels, "Cost me a small fortune. I have, been out at the charity shops, all over the place to get these, know what they are"? I just stayed silent and shook my head, "NAPPIES that's what they are, YOUR NAPPIES, and from now on you'll be wearing them every night until you stop this f*** bed wetting. Now get your ass up them stairs, NOW..!"
Well, needless to say I ended up being dragged up the stairs kicking and screaming, the more I struggled and screamed the more she slapped, I'm not sure how long it took for me to burn out, but I remember very clearly lying on the bed crying and looking away as she pinned me in to that nappy, turned out that these were actually white towels, which is why they fit, she hadn't been able to get any plastic pants in my size but she improvised by making them by cutting leg holes in a carrier bag, I was still choking back tears as she pulled them on, "I've not been able to get any proper baby pants yet, but I'm sure we'll get some from somewhere in the meantime this is better than nothing, now get up." she stood me up and finished by using some sticky tape around the top of the bag, and just when I thought she had done her worse she picked up a pair of blue nylon knickers and I was made to step into these, "these will keep everything where it should be, and believe me, if you as much as touch em, you'll get the best hiding you've EVER, had, now get back down them stairs". She left me in just a t shirt and socks.
This was to be more or less how things were to go for the next year or so. Apart from weekends which were even worse as I was not allowed to remove my nappies, and some times it would be gone eleven in the morning before they got out of bed, my sister was told to let people at school know that her big brother still wore nappies, needless to say I was always wet in the mornings, due to the even earlier bed times which they imposed, and eventually, and even to this day.
I'm not sure from where from but, she did get plastic pants big enough to fit over my nappies, and these would always be hung in the yard for all to see, along with my nappies. all this was until until my grand parents found out what was happening at home,and then it stopped. I still wet the bed but I just had a rubber sheet, and the hitting and nappies stopped. In the mornings I just got taunted. I think I stopped wetting the bed about six months after.
There is a lot more to my childhood trauma but this is one aspect that has stayed with me for ever and now I still wear nappies.