The Shame of Pooping Your Pants
We’ve all been there. It actually doesn’t matter whether you poop your pants in public or at home, the overwhelming feeling of shame that comes over you is always intense.
I have had many close calls since my Crohn’s diagnosis back in 2011. I quickly learned that I needed to leave the house with a feminine pad on for extra protection. I highly recommend this. It adds a barrier of protection.
But, regardless, when you have that extreme moment of urgency things are just going to get dirty and you have to deal with it, along with the shame.
Don’t you just want to crawl into a hole and literally call your mom and cry when you have an accident? You revert back to this almost child-like state where you need an adult to help you. Help you wipe your tears. Help you clean up. Just someone to help get you through the awful moment.
I know it’s not just me! Can you relate?
First and worst accident
I was in my mid-20s when I had my first and worst public accident. It occurred while I was waiting for the subway in New York City. Oh yes, I was standing on the platform waiting for the train in the morning to get to work, when the urge to go hit me hard. And I mean, hard.
This wasn’t your average accident where perhaps some stool is formed and you can get away with running into the nearest public restroom with only a minor stain showing from behind while most of the damage stays clumped inside your underwear.
Oh no, not my experience.
I had pure diarrhea. So much so, that I had it running down my pant legs onto my shoes. And to make matters more glorious, I was wearing light grey corduroy pants. Not only were they my favorite pants which I ended up throwing away due to the massive damage; they were also the perfect color to show off the liquid gold that shot out of me.
But the worst part of all that I remember like yesterday, was the shame that came over me. It was tangible and hung over me like a heavy coat. My head hung low as I walked shamefully to the nearest public restroom. My back quickly concaved and refused to stand tall. I just wanted to disappear while fighting back tears.
And yes, I called my mommy.
Yup, after I managed to clean up in the restroom, I phoned my mom who was back home in Florida, and just bawled as I told her what happened. I desperately needed her at that moment and she was so sad that I had gone through it all. Her words of assurance and encouragement were what I needed to get out of that bathroom and continue my walk back to my apartment so I could shower and change clothes.
You are not alone
So if you have ever endured the horrible experience of pooping your pants, just know that you aren’t alone. I’ve been there and I know how horrible and shameful it is. And if you have to call your mom, do it! Get all the support you need.
And remember, no matter how bad the accident is, you will survive it. You will eventually get cleaned, feel better, and move on. Don’t let it bring you down. You will have one heck of a story to tell later.
Do you think there is enough awareness of IBS?