The Butt of Every Joke (Pun Intended)

 "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been 6 days since my last confession."
The other day in a conversation between myself and a friend I was confronted on my vanity, my pursuit of wanting to be remembered, wanting to be written, wanting to be in history as more than a crowd member. To be remembered as special- for something good.

There is a piece of me that thinks every human has this desire to an extent and of course it waxes and wanes. At times I am just as happy to be remembered by friends and family, at other times even more extreme I curse myself and hope to be forgotten, and of course at other times I wish to give a good speech, write a good paper, create a good work, a good community, and be remembered as someone good. I do not desire celebrity as such, just to be remembered fondly.

Today I was thinking, yes but at what level would your good deed have to be in order to be remembered fondly, for you see I am the joke of every person, child and adult of every culture.

From a young age I remember thinking very positively of trips to the bathroom.

I suppose all children get a certain joy from going to the bathroom, after all Freud labeled it a stage in development, the anal stage, whether his theories have any relevance to my particular shame I have no idea.

What is coprophilia?

Exactly what I have been trying to understand about myself for years.

When I was young I was just interested, played like it was a toy, like it was mud, but later it became a sexual interest. When dreams became fantasies, became wet dreams. When ideas about diapers and forced feeding, punishments and presents all took the form of shit in my mind. That was when I knew I was different.

 Let me describe my earliest fantasy.

I am a small child (not the age I was when I had the fantasy). I am at the daycare I remember the most, a very clean place with many children that was part of a church center as well. I have done something wrong, I don't remember what, I may or may not have done it on purpose. The very large woman who is my daycare teacher (not a real person) says "You know what that means" I fake embarrassment and fear, and she forces me to jump into a giant dumpster of dirty diapers. She locks me in there for a long time, but rather than being disgusted I feel a strange dirty sexy feeling.

At this point I assume most people are grossed out. Being grossed out by shit is normal right?

This is why from around the age of 5 or 6 I realized I was "not normal."  This only became worse when it became sexualized and rather than thinking about girl's emerging breasts I thought about their trip to the bathroom, fantasized about being in there with them.

Its strange in writing this down I remember certain events that may or may not have contributed to this locked in shame:  A) I was going to the bathroom (an embarrassing thing for me since as far as I can remember) and my favorite girl at the before mentioned daycare walked in. She left immediately but not before seeing me on the toilet. B) When I was younger I remember showing my excrement to a group of older boys trying to impress them, rather than being impressed they teased me.

But both of these events took place after I had been playing with shit already (I showed the boys hoping I was not the only one). The desire itself has changed over time, at one point I was into spreading it all over my body, which would lead to a lot of explanation as to why the bathroom smelled so bad and why I showered so often, at other times I dabbled in self-coprophagia. These experiments also lead me to develop or notice my obsession with butts in general. In my fantasies it became not just the excrement (dirty diapers etc) but also the butts of the other kids and teachers. Eventually I started to play with my own butt, sticking fingers and small objects into it for sexual pleasure.

These experiments and thoughts had a particularly troubling affect on my social life and self esteem. During the age of puberty I not only had to recognize and consider the sexualization of this fetish, but also the normal  changes in my body and mind. Beyond that adolescence is a troubling time for any person, but throw in the idea that you are weird and alone into the mix and it becomes a very depressing and isolating experience. Luckily I had a great family and wonderful friends but I shared none of this with any of them for fear that they would not love me anymore. Instead I bottled it up, sought out information from others and eventually decided that because I would never be "normal," I shouldn't try. I sought out the weirdest and grossest things I could find. The disturbing, the haunting, the terrible things people do to each other and that happen in our world and I found them in abundance in books, movies and eventually the internet. I spent many nights trying to shock myself into feeling normal... after all if these things happen (dismemberment, abuse, torture, degradation) than what I am interested in must happen too right? I must be somewhere on the scale even if it is in the extreme.

This information though haunting also caused me to feel less isolated. I stopped thinking about killing myself and instead tried to imagine meeting people who were into what I found out was called "scat." 

For those of you very vanilla people out there, there are many people in the world who are into "weird" fetishes. These people sometimes go by the general term of being Queer, and I am starting to recognize the positive use of this term in my life, but in general the internet has opened up a world of connection where in the past people might have been totally isolated. The problem though is that this leads people to chat rooms, porn sites and risky encounters with other people who may or may not be shady. It also leads people into a world in which they continue to keep these feelings and thoughts fairly repressed and secret from the outside world. This has been my case.

With the exception of you, I have only confessed this to a few, they being my lovers it was inevitable that they found out.

There are many implications of this fetish, but one is that I always seem to have reason to doubt myself and the love of others. This brings me roundabout back to both the title and the first part of this post, the butt of every joke. How can I believe that anyone could love me, care for me, have respect for me when Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo and every third grader are telling jokes about poop being the funniest thing on earth (and anyone who likes it being contemptible). The things that make people laugh in disgust, are the things I am turned on by...
Second, how could I ever be famous enough to live it down.

Person A: Did you hear? He created world peace and fed all the starving children.

Person B: Yeah probably just cuz he wanted to eat their shit.

(Which wouldn't be true by the way)

I included wrath and envy in this one because I am often disgusted with myself over this and wish to be like others. Sloth could also be included because being so ashamed of myself I have at times been unable to act for myself or others, and have been unwilling to judge those that hurt others because I am afraid of being judged myself.
There will be plenty more on this, but that is it for now.