Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
~Seneca
~Seneca
The worst part of blacking out isn't forgetting everything that's transpired during those lost hours -no, if anything, that's the forgiving part. The worst part is that everyone else remembers. At best, you'll have walked into some doors, had a conversation with a plant and fallen asleep in the bathtub. These are the type of blackout nights where the only repercussions are being the punchline of a few recurring jokes and possibly a sore neck (next time, try to remember the bath mat is more comfortable).
These are also the types of blackouts which distinguish "us" from "them". A normal (smart? Responsible? Sane?) drinker would see this as an eye opening occurance and make it a point to never let themselves get That Way again. It'd be a story retold for years, laughed about and chalked up as an experience. "You haven't lived till...!".
Then there's the rest of us. Or rather, just "us" since I guess this category would put us in the minority here. For us, waking up and being told the worst thing we did was talk to a plant would be a sigh of relief. A neck pain would be all but expected. No major bruises? No swollen fingers (did I punch something...one?)? I'm wearing all articles of clothing and that's not an unfamiliar ceiling I'm staring at? Awesome. So, what bar do you guys want to hit up tonight? Are the liquor stores delivering yet? And so it goes.
Then the bad nights happen. The nights of narrowly being missed by ongoing traffic, of sleeping on friend's doorsteps, of losing panties in bar bathrooms and going home with strangers. Or so you learn the next morning. When the question isn't "did we have sex?" (although you'll ask that as well) but rather "did we use protection?".
It's the mornings of waking up in your own bed (thank God, thank God, thank God) but having a multitude of angry text messages from friends informing you of how ridiculous you were acting. That is, assuming your phone made it home with you at all. It's waking up and being told your behavior the night before, whether you remember it or not, has made someone important no longer want you to be a part of their life.
I'm not sure when the slip from 'being there' to simply...not, occurs exactly. If I did, I guess that would solve the problem. If I did, then the list of drunken nights I've blacked out, to some degree, wouldn't be longer than the list of those I hadn't. Sometimes I can recognize when I'm starting to lose awareness. I realize I'd slipped for a moment but have now returned to regain my mind, body and actions. If I'm lucky, this occurs around 4am or when the bottles are empty and I'm all but forced to "cut myself off". Usually though, I haven't made it that far and it just seems easier to wave the white flag of defeat, step back (from my mind, not the bar) and wish myself good luck. One day it may be "good bye" and my consciousness will have done nothing more than abandon a sinking ship.
But hey, I'm only an alcoholic when I drink, right? Right? I get funnier after a drink or two...I get even funnier after YOU'VE had a drink or two.
Ha...
These are also the types of blackouts which distinguish "us" from "them". A normal (smart? Responsible? Sane?) drinker would see this as an eye opening occurance and make it a point to never let themselves get That Way again. It'd be a story retold for years, laughed about and chalked up as an experience. "You haven't lived till...!".
Then there's the rest of us. Or rather, just "us" since I guess this category would put us in the minority here. For us, waking up and being told the worst thing we did was talk to a plant would be a sigh of relief. A neck pain would be all but expected. No major bruises? No swollen fingers (did I punch something...one?)? I'm wearing all articles of clothing and that's not an unfamiliar ceiling I'm staring at? Awesome. So, what bar do you guys want to hit up tonight? Are the liquor stores delivering yet? And so it goes.
Then the bad nights happen. The nights of narrowly being missed by ongoing traffic, of sleeping on friend's doorsteps, of losing panties in bar bathrooms and going home with strangers. Or so you learn the next morning. When the question isn't "did we have sex?" (although you'll ask that as well) but rather "did we use protection?".
It's the mornings of waking up in your own bed (thank God, thank God, thank God) but having a multitude of angry text messages from friends informing you of how ridiculous you were acting. That is, assuming your phone made it home with you at all. It's waking up and being told your behavior the night before, whether you remember it or not, has made someone important no longer want you to be a part of their life.
I'm not sure when the slip from 'being there' to simply...not, occurs exactly. If I did, I guess that would solve the problem. If I did, then the list of drunken nights I've blacked out, to some degree, wouldn't be longer than the list of those I hadn't. Sometimes I can recognize when I'm starting to lose awareness. I realize I'd slipped for a moment but have now returned to regain my mind, body and actions. If I'm lucky, this occurs around 4am or when the bottles are empty and I'm all but forced to "cut myself off". Usually though, I haven't made it that far and it just seems easier to wave the white flag of defeat, step back (from my mind, not the bar) and wish myself good luck. One day it may be "good bye" and my consciousness will have done nothing more than abandon a sinking ship.
But hey, I'm only an alcoholic when I drink, right? Right? I get funnier after a drink or two...I get even funnier after YOU'VE had a drink or two.
Ha...
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