Imagine, if you will, a power so complete and potent in it's control over your mind, body, and soul, that it can entirely dissolve memory, time, rendering a helpless, lifeless body as a portal to do whatever sick deeds it hears your mind whisper in moments of rage, passion, etcetera.
That is alcohol to me. Twice in my life has it had such a grasp on me. Twice in my life I allowed it to do so. And twice in my life, I have only pieces of memory by which to recreate the chaos that occurred. I was my own downfall.
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Part I
The first hit hard, worse than it's successor. It began at R's, where I concocted various mixed drinks, most of them while she was changing clothes, going to the bathroom. Only the smallest few did she know about. Vodka, my poison for the most part- Orange Juice, flavored Rum, and fruit Snapple all accompanied. My good, warm feeling friends. And I drank. God, did I drink.
I took my good friends with my to the pool in R's neighborhood, where various minor encounters were mugged out by alcohol- a boy on a bike, cold water, breaking into a hot tub, sometime or another heading to her house again, making more drinks, and being driven by her mother to my neighborhood pool.
Gavin, I called at some point during my stupor. He was to meet us at my pool. Before we left R's, I filled a medium sized water bottle with straight vodka. How far gone I already was, it is hard to gauge.
The drive to my neighborhood feels brief... I remember talking in the car from the back seat; we were happy and whatnot. I am unsure if anyone knew of the water bottle.
Then we were at the pool and standing around. Once Gavin arrived at the gate, I told R to let him in while I slipped into the bathroom.
I went into a stall, threw back my head, and drank the entire bottle of vodka there and then. I remember the empty bottle hitting the floor, the burning all down my throat, but I knew I would not throw up- maybe if I had, I would have been better off.
Did I put the bottle in the trash? How did I look, full-faced in the mirror that night? What was I thinking? I was barefoot, and I left the bathroom and walked to Gavin. That would be one of my last memories of the evening.
I seem to remember sitting in front of him on a lounge chair, kissing him and that R was over in the hot tub.
I do not remember when my mother came, what argument ensued, or when Gavin left. Likewise, I do not remember them loading me into the car, getting me to the hospital, or any of my behaviors that occurred.
The next thing I do remember, I woke up in the hospital with my arms in restraints, using a bedpan. I remember R, my mom, a nurse? looking at me, talking to me soothingly for some reason. I remember R stepping out of the room, leaving at some point.
I remember my mom on my right side, sitting in a chair, looking exhausted.
From there, more a few more patchy spots, maybe just sleep.
I remember walking with my mom's assistance out of the hospital room, across the hall with 3 nurses and a doctor at the nurses station, and on into a proper bathroom. I remember saying hello to everyone on the way.
I remember much later being home laying in my bed with R back over that same night- I had my hanging star light on (always) and it made the purple walls and white ceiling orange-ish.
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Part II
I was told later some of what happened during the lull. That during my transport to the hospital, I flew around the car and ended up with more than a few bruises. That upon my arrival to the hospital, I was in a complete rage- that I had to be moved into a room far away from where people were because I was so loud and obnoxious. That I cussed at the doctors, the nurses, my mother, and reserved kind words only for R. That I was violent, broke the first set of restraints I was put in, and in the second pair bent my arm just short of breaking it. That a counselor from my rehab, ironically on the other side of the hospital, had come to visit with me and that I was semi-kind with him, asking forgiveness. That they had called College Hospital, arranging a bed for me to stay in and sending someone over to get me. That if I didn't calm down, I would spend the mandatory 3 days or more in College hospital for analysis- a danger to myself and others. That my mother prayed hard for me in that hospital room, for my peace.
And that I suddenly became calm. And I woke up, kind to the staff I had cursed moments before. And I went home that night.
The staff was shocked, I've been told- my blood alcohol level was extremely high and I came very close to temporary insanity. I was uncontrollable.
I do not remember the vast majority of what happened, for hours of that night.
By the next day, I assembled an almost completely fictional story of the evening's events, placing all blame elsewhere.
Though my head hurt badly, though I learned about my actions, the damage was only beginning to show. Denial, lies, and acting would keep me covered for a few more months.
There have been many times in my life that I have given control over to my emotions, spirit, or whatever to hide a reckless, childish mind. Only twice, to my knowledge, have I relinquished time, body, and mind so completely to something as to have no memory of its reign. Only twice... And only once has it ever been necessary to restrain me with leather cuffs to a hospital bed.
Only once will it ever be necessary.
