This story was in the back of my mind as a potential follow-up to my recent tale of bathroom adventures. Let’s get to it.
It was high school, I’d guess around 10th grade. Myself and a bunch of other people were staying the night at our friend’s place. Must have been a birthday party. Unbeknownst to myself at the time it would become the longest I ever “held it.”
My friend’s place was rugged to say the least. He had a pretty awesome bachelor’s pad (for a high schooler) which consisted of an entire upstairs/attic. We could essentially do whatever we wanted. The only downside: no plumbing. Connecting the dots, that means there was no bathroom, no running water, and no toilet.
The only toilet in the vicinity was outside in his dad’s trailer, which was an awkward trip to say the least. I was always uncomfortable around his dad even though he was usually a pretty nice guy. I always timed my bathroom trips wisely with others so I never had to go alone.
Until that night. It was about 7pm when I realized I had to pee. The sun was already down, the party was ramping up, and the last thing I wanted to do was go downstairs and knock on a trailer door to use the bathroom. I figured I would hold it for a bit until someone else had to go. Strength in numbers.
Two more hours rolled by and I really had to go. Apparently my friends had steel bladders. I kept quiet, watching people drink soda can after soda can. Someone had to cave soon.
Another hour. It was becoming an emergency. I finally mentioned that I had to go to the bathroom, when my friend gave me the bad news. His dad was surely asleep by now and we couldn’t go into the trailer. He suggested I just pee off the balcony.
I think back now and wonder why and the hell I didn’t just do that. Yes, it was basically peeing into someone’s yard over a fence while standing next to a busy street, but it was dark and late. I should have just done it, but for some reason I got it stuck in my head that it wasn’t an option.
It was at this point that I realized I would be “holding it” all night. Admitting that to myself made it a bit easier. I could push it back into my head knowing there was nothing I could do.
Except that only worked for about thirty minutes. Then things started to get really bad. I started to strategize, coming to insane conclusions like eating a lot of bread or lying horizontal would somehow lessen my need to pee. These things changed little.
All I could think about was going to sleep because I wanted the painful night to be over. My kidneys ached. I thought my bladder was going to explode. How was I going to make it?
Eventually we went to sleep, and by we, I mean everyone but me. I lay awake, curled into a ball, hoping and hoping that I wouldn’t wet the bed. I fell in and out of a dreamlike state where I constantly imagined I was peeing. I would wake in a panic hoping it hadn’t come true. I was dry, but the pain was there.
The sun finally came up and my friends roused themselves up. I mentioned immediately how I had to pee. No one else was super concerned, but eventually we got a party together to head down to the trailer toilet. I called first dibs.
I’m not sure if that was the longest pee of my life, but it was the worst. My body ached as it finally emptied over 15 hours of fluid. I could exaggerate and say it exploded out, but my muscles were so weak it just sort of dribbled. I wondered if I seriously messed up my body. What had I done? I eventually stumbled out of the bathroom a broken man.
But in the end I think it was a good thing, because whenever I have to pee I always, always, think back to that time. “How long have I been holding it now? 3 hours? Psh, child’s play.” It has become my pinnacle of “holding it” that I can reference for the rest of my life, knowing that no matter how bad I have to pee, it isn’t as bad as it could be.
