Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Howdy campers. It’s been awhile. I’ve been disgustingly sick. Like, really. I’m talking Vick’s boxes of tissues, cough drops and more Dayquil/Nyquil than I think the human body should ever come in contact with. I’m still hacking up a lung but you should be safe as long as you don’t come within 5 or so feet of me.
Anyway…on to day 22.
If I go all philosophical on this one, I could say simply, there is nothing in my life I would take back because it all made me who I am today. That’s true, for the most part.
But then there are all those times when too little food and too much booze got the best of me. I’ve tried to narrow it down to one moment that I wish I could take back and it comes down to one night my senior year of college.
I blacked out. No, I’m not proud, but what is worse is what happened during my blackout. I can’t describe it, all I remember is waking up terrified. Terrified. But of what? I was alone in my room, nobody was there, clothing on. In all respects I was safe, or at least I appeared that way. Yet I woke with a start, shaking, then hyperventilating. Was it a bad dream? What happened? I frantically called the friends I’d been with. What happened? Why was I so scared?
“Something happened. I don’t know what, but something happened.” I texted my best guy friend.
What really happened during the block of time I’ve lost? I have no idea. Part of me is thankful that I blacked it out, but blacking it out didn’t black out any emotional reaction. For some reason, though I couldn’t recollect the night, my insides were shaking from fear, somewhere inside me knew what happened, and didn’t like it.
It wasn’t until much later that everything came together. I’d managed to put together that someone tried to force themselves on me while I was blackout drunk and wavering in and out of consciousness. I’d thought the kid was gay, a friend laughed. “What?” She relayed a story of how he tried to force himself on her earlier in the night, being of sound mind, she’d fought him off, gone to bed and locked the door – without a word of it to any of us.
I fumed when I heard it. At first I blamed friends for letting him stick around when they knew he was a skeezeball, then I blamed myself. Then my friends blamed me, “You were the one that got drunk.” I was also lucky enough to have an amazing roommate who listened to me, let me just talk when I didn’t even know what I was saying.
I don’t know where the fault lays and I’m not sure fault has anything to do with it. Either way, I can’t change the fact that it happened. I still have nightmares and I had to seek counseling after this event even though I couldn’t explain it, even though I wasn’t sure if anything had happened or if I had tried to fight or what. The fear almost took over my final semester. It was mindblowing that an event I couldn’t even recall could cripple me emotionally, physically, and mentally.
So, if I could take anything back, it’d be all the tequila or Bud Light of that night. I’ll remember the way I felt when I woke up, for the rest of my life. I know that most people have to learn for themselves, but if anyone takes anything away from this, it’s to trust no one when it comes to alcohol. Not strangers, not your friends, and sometimes, not even yourself. The only way to be in control of a situation, is to be in control of your intake. I wasn’t and I paid the price. No, it doesn’t happen to everyone. Maybe, I could have gotten lucky and it wouldn’t have happened to me. But I didn’t. It did, and it could happen to you, or your sister.
Don’t let it.
But if it has, talk to someone. Counselors at your schools, friends, family, anyone. There are people that can help you get through it, no matter how much of it you actually remember. Don’t sweep it under the rug or try to brush it off – take it from me. Talk to someone.