Pooping embarrasses me more than almost anything.
You might say I suffer from a super-minor form of parcopresis. It’s not full-blown psychogenic fecal retention. I’m physically able to defecate even in a worst-case scenario.
My mind is telling me “No.”
But my body… my body’s… telling me “Yes.”
I go to great lengths to avoid Matt-has-to-poop detection from others. The thinking seems to be that if they know I poop, they will think me smelly and disgusting and not like me.
“Hey Matt! Are you throwing a party for your birthday?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Maybe!?!? Why wouldn’t you?”
“What if people don’t come? That would be so embarrassing.”
“Why wouldn’t people come?”
“Well. I don’t know if you’ve heard. But, um. Sometimes I poop.”
“ … ”
“Don’t just stare at me…
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