Member-only story
Does Blacking Out Forgive?
And the aftermath of losing a night’s memories
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?
