Does Blacking Out Forgive?
By: Natalie Jeanne Maddy
Tags: Learning, Dui, Memories, Drinking, Forgiveness

Photo by Maru Lombardo on Unsplash

Does Blacking Out Forgive?

And so it goes…

You black out. Your memory fails you, purely from the lack of new information being able to properly be saved into your long-term memory. You awaken with a pounding head and no recollection of what happened throughout the night prior to this morn.

I wake up with blood colored stains atop my overalls. Or is it wine? Vomit?

You may have a flashback or two. Were you dancing? Perhaps you got in a fight and now have a broken, blood-crusted nose. You feel like shit, physically and also, very quite possibly (probably, more like) mentally and emotionally and perhaps spiritually? This isn’t you. At least, you thought it wasn’t you. But you simply can’t remember. As if blacking out is simple. Forgive yourself, you say. Breathe, you say. But you can’t. You can’t remember a damn thing, and you won’t be settled until you find out just how bad you were.

I also remember flashing lights — I think. And maybe handcuffs?

You want to call your friends to ask what the fuck happened just last night, for you clearly can’t remember. But first, you run to the window to see if you were at least coherent enough to have called an Uber last night. Phone a friend: was that an option? Or did you drive?

I want to call my friends and ask them everything. They’d know, right?

Sure enough, you car is out front of your home, looking like a death mobile but also looking like a sentencing to jail. DUI, baby. DUI, baby. DUI, baby. These words haunt you as your try to recall something from last night. Anything from last night. Fucking. Anything. ANYTHING. Come on, memory. Wrack your mind more, you think. Come on, come on, comeon.

I have to pee. And puke. But that toilet in the corner of my cell looks wretched.

You call your friends, asking how much of an asshole you were last night. Why is my nose bloodied? you ask. Why did you let me drive? Why the fuck do I have blood on my jeans? What time did we leave? Where did we end up? The questions seem to never end, yet none of their answers give you any clarity. Their answers aren’t pieces to the whole puzzle, for the puzzle was thrown out the second you chugged that last beer. That last beer that was a tall. That last beer that was ten drinks to their six. That last beer that set you apart from others in terms of memory capabilities. That last beer that could have changed your life in the blink of an eye.

A woman enters, checking my vitals. All okay, she says. Okay?! Alive, at any rate.

And so it goes. Your blacked out. You had way too many drinks for your body to safely metabolize, preventing new memories to be stashed away for a rainy day, even if that rainy day is literally 12 hours later, in the AM the next day. Even if that rainy day wound you up in jail for a DUI. Even if that rainy day forced you into submission to enter a plea bargain that you aren’t an alcoholic. But are you? You begin to wonder. To question. To take a step back to reflect upon your life.

You black out at least once a week. You drive drunk or buzzed or even black-out more than you’d like. Maybe even more than you’d think. Maybe even more than you remember…

You could have killed someone. That blood from your nose? It wasn’t someone else’s. It was yours. But it easily could have been from someone else. Those feelings of yearning to remember anything from that night? It dissipates, sure, but it doesn’t make you remember anything more. Anything less. It just is.

And so it goes…

You blacked out. I blacked out.

Is it forgivable? you wonder. I wonder.

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Did you learn a lesson? I hope so. Did I learn a lesson? Fuck yes. Did you hurt anyone? Just your ego, I’d assume. Did I hurt anyone? Myself. My friends. My family. My wallet. My car. My life, temporarily. Did you self-evaluate? Maybe for a day. Did I self-evaluate? I couldn’t stop. Did you change your behaviors? For a week, sure. Did I change my behaviors? At first, by force. But now? By choice.

Everything is a choice. You choose to drink yourself into an oblivion. Or is black hole a more appropriate term here? You choose to drive home or call a friend. You choose to stop after one night in jail. You choose to keep drinking, even if the court tells you to abstain, refrain, reflect.

the choice is always yours

Will you keep driving drunk, praying to the God you don’t believe in to save you from ever hurting anyone, in case you ever black-out again? Or will you let jail change you, lest you become a shadow of your peers? Or will you change right now, telling yourself to stop drinking so damn much and refusing to drive even after just one?

The. Choice. Is. Yours.

It always is.

But if you slip-up and make an unsafe decision, remember this:

It is okay! You are okay! Don’t let this wreck your life even if it wrecked your car and finances and plans and so on. Don’t let this overwhelm your brain into a frenzied panic, morphing your fun memories into tainted ones. Don’t let this torment you until you resist all types of fun.

Life forgives. Others forgive. You too can forgive… yourself.