Taking a Shit

"In his solitary throne, the man grasps at his midsection, his face a mask of discomfort. He strains and grasps at a goal that cannot be reached, young Icarus sailing to touch the sun.

Futility.

He remembers a different life, a life where his current trial seemed trivial, where he knew nothing but comfort and a feeling of completeness.

Suddenly it rushes back over him: that dreaded feeling. He prays for resolution, that somehow his trial would end.

Alas, that would not come today.

Minutes pass. Suddenly the dreaded feeling subsides, thanks in part to his own power and to luck. He sighs in relief, but behind that sigh is a feeling of apprehension. It is because he knows that it would always, always be waiting for him, in the shadows, where it will come back for him again. And perhaps, the next time it comes, he may not be able to withstand it."

I have diarrhea and constipation.

It was one of the worst feelings I had in childhood, mainly because

1. It was the exact opposite of one of my best childhood feelings, eating out:
2. You lost control over something you had control of and took for granted, just like breathing was for asthma;
3. It was embarrassing and felt like hell, different than direct pain, but still extremely unpleasant. I think I'd rather live in a hell with skewers impaled in me than live in a hell where I would have perpetual diarrhea and I will never find a place to shit it out.
4. The smell doesn't help things a bit.

#2 plays a lot into who we are. We are beings who seek control over our daily lives. Otherwise we would not bother to keep the time, we would not have air conditioning, fans and loose clothes to escape the hot sun, and we would be content to run around naked without a care in the world. Diarrhea removes that control. You become a slave to your own body, limited by its own frailties and weaknesses. You are totally under its mercy, and it will release you (or not) depending on its whims.

Constipation is the opposite of diarrhea, but it removes the same kind of control we have over our lives. It's just as painful, but not quite as embarrasing as diarrhea, so at least some level of social functioning remains.

My past experiences with both entities have never been pleasant. Whenever I had to take a shit in school, I couldn't shit it out. The smell would travel the entire school and the school CR was for pissing, not shitting. I called it a "Gamma Emergency," the worst kind of emergency there was. (for the record, Alpha - forgetting to bring something to school, Beta - can't piss, Delta - overworked and ready to faint)

One of my most traumatic experiences was when I was still in kindergarten - I wanted to take a shit, but I was inexperienced in using another place's comfort room as a child. The only places where I felt comfortable taking a shit were in my own house and the house I grew up in back in the province.

Thus, I took a shit in my own pants.

The one thing that I remember was the silence. Everyone was listening to the teacher, but they weren't talking. Paranoid as I was I thought they were thinking about me. In the meantime, the nice old janitor/security guy/all arounder (bless his soul) was doing the dirty job of wiping my ass. For some reason I remember carrots in my shit. It was as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. I just... stood there. I didn't do anything, I just gazed blankly into space, as if I had been violated.

One time the urge came during Flag Ceremony - which doubles the strain since standing isn't exactly the best position to hold shit in. The teacher thought I was having a heart attack or something.

When it did come out, usually at the end of the day, it was the greatest feeling in the world. It was refreshing, relieving, even orgasmic. Taking a shit was good.

Imagine how I would feel if that didn't happen.

It happened just recently. Suddenly my bowels just up and decided to rebel against me. My entire bowel movement schedule was screwed - I was now prone to doing it every so often. And eating something, anything, triggered it. It brought chaos to my neatly ordered world. I, of course would have nothing of it - but when you try to fight your own body, you never win.

When I first realized I had it, it was a strange feeling, like I had never experienced such a sensation in my life, despite me having experienced it dozens of times before. I guess it has something to do with the body trying to forget bad experiences. So I try to hold it back. I had a busy schedule, and medications scarred me for life after I couldn't shit for more than a week after I took half a tablet of Imodium.

It remains a constant law in the universe that eventually, something's gotta give. And when it does, it is a veritable explosion. I have experienced this before, and no amount of horror quite simulates the feeling of accidentally releasing shit when you don't want to. Numbness sets in - denial. No, this is not my shit, I'm actually in a different place. Then, the creeping realization comes, and you realize that you are screwed. You start thinking of ways of escape just as the smell starts circulating, and you pray with all your heart that you make it the hell out of there before someone realizes.

My fear rests in the horror that I may not be able to hold it in. I feel dread every time my stomach churns and it slowly builds up in my system. Is this the last time? I ask myself. Will this one be the time that ends it all?

Strain, strain, strain, I think. Nothing comes out - and yet, my colon feels like it wants to burst at the seams. Something trickles out but it is nothing compared to the feeling you still have. It feels incomplete, and you know you have to try again.

After many, many trips to the bathroom, you manage to get something out - and the pain and the discomfort subsides. Normalcy reigns again in your cluttered yet organized little world. Control.

Control.

That is what we wish for.

My stomach has calmed down. The storm is leaving, but traces of it still remain. I long for pleasant days where taking a shit was the unassuming activity that it used to be.

I can't believe I just said that.