Don't touch my stuff

I have been in a serious organization mood lately.
I have created a COLOR CODED calendar...
Organized random drawers, and even my previously disastrous car.

I think this is mostly due to the fact that lately I have had reoccurring thoughts about a time when my "stuff" was touched and shouldn't of been.

My logic behind this, is that if everything is in a determined spot, no one can touch it.
And if they do touch it, not only will I know, but so will everyone around me.
This is terrible logic...and I don't enjoy it.
But it's where I am and who I need to be right now... I think...
So maybe something good will come out of it.

Oh that's all for tonight. I have far too many thoughts running through my head and need to stop before this turns into a hundred more topics of emotional diarrhea. *Emotional diarrhea being my new phrase of choice....It just sounds soo right on.
Too bad I can't organize my thoughts the way I have everything else around me.


--aa.

The Naked Truth

Well, here it is.
By far one of the most personal, and most important pieces out of my high school writing binder.
Although I have not found the binder itself, I found this and that makes me extremely happy.
This was written to describe the feelings I had when I first told my then-boyfriend-later husband, about an extremely painful time in my life and things that had happened to me. Prior to telling him, I had kept "the secret" from everyone. This year, more so then ever before, I have opened up about these events to a couple close people in my life. Maybe that is part of healing? Oh well.. On with it already...

(You can find me on Instagram @AlyAnger )

The Naked Truth

Layers too quickly melt away like warm wax...

And my past is exposed.

Utter embarrassment overcomes all other emotions,

And for once I am seen.

The wall I so meticulously built: Shattered.

You step over it, as if non-existent.

You welcome yourself into me. Then and Now.

Secrets spilled across the table like common dinner chit-chat.

Embarrassments whispered in the dark of bed.

You don't give me the chance to hold back.

You strip me of the layers I created to hide everything..

Everything you now see.

Puddles of the past surround us,

Puddles I fear are too deep for you to step through.

My own experiences, give you vivid dreams of things I wish you'd never seen.

And I suddenly feel the awkwardness of sitting naked in front of a stranger.

The feeling of needing to cover everything private-

Only we're fully dressed, and you're no stranger.

I feel the need to hide the guilt of what has happened...

But you strip me of the blankets, and wipe away my tears.

You stare into my eyes, the eyes I wish I could have hid.

Glaring at the memories I try so hard to blur.

Shaking, naked-cold...

The memories spew out with tears.

I can't hold it in any longer,

You stripped away my barrier,

Knocked down my wall..

It's hard to hold it in.

Secret after secret stripped from my suppressed memory.

Slowly, they pour out with utter disgust.

I start to feel dirty, sick....

Almost violated all over again.

I feel the need to hide from you.

Not just you, the entire world,

and especially the truth.

Build the all back up, and step out please.

Redress me.

I need the comfort, bury the past.

This never happened.

You know nothing.

-- aa