I wonder if it’s normal to feel a horrible, embarrassing memory come on, but you’re not quite sure what it is yet. I feel it breaking down walls, getting closer to the right part of my brain that will relay that memory and I try, try, try to fight it off. It never worked until I learned the quickest way out is to think of something else instead of those breaking walls. There’s no use in fighting, only distraction.

This might sound a little over-dramatic and a tad unscientific, but when I die and they perform an autopsy on me, about 3 dozen forgotten memories of me falling and tripping in public will come tumbling out from my abdominal cavity as soon as those shears snip into my belly and crack my ribs. The collective embarrassment that laid dormant within me for so long will be so strong in this one, giant release that the coroners will flee the autopsy room, never wanting to face each other again.