When the day ahead of you has nothing to offer more exciting than daytime television and pushups, making sure to take a big shit each day becomes a prerequisite for sanity. Not one of those rabbit turds, all little pellets, but a massive dump that leaves you red-faced and perspiring.
Because I’m a nerd who writes definitions of words I don’t know, the word eupeptic means both “related to or having good digestion” and “cheerful, happy” because in a lot of ways those are the same thing. Crankypation is real.
The most common side effects of drugs occur in the digestive system in one form or another. I’ve had months of taking the one-a-week junkie dump clogged up from opiates and almost shit my pants on adderall.
When I first came down, I didn’t have a bowel movement for over a week as my body adjusted to the prison food. In quarantine, you’re locked in a cell for 23 hours a day in a one man cell with a rusty sink and a toilet that only flushes an hour. Naturally, I clogged it when I finally did shit, and spent the next 24 hours trying to successfully flush it away.
I had to literally devise a strategy to accomplish the task, from timing the flushes and using every piss I had to gradually erode the bodacious turd down to a manageable size.
Now, I drink a Metamucil knockoff every night to ensure a morning dump, and always feel better afterwards. Who doesn’t though? It’s science.
Most of your serotonin is produced in your gut, which is also called “the second brain” because of how integral it is to your mood. A daily bowel movement is necessary for gut health, which is mostly probiotics and (literal) shit.
Maybe that’s what’s wrong with the world today. Everyone’s going around constipated and feeling crazy. When I was last in the streets, I was. I just didn’t think there was a connection between the two then.