Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget

by Sarah Hepola

Until then, it had not occurred to me what an act of love this was: to remember another person’s life.

“Well, you’re not tough,” she told me, and I laughed. “Tough is a posture anyway. You’re something better. You’re resilient.”

I get irritated when I hear parents use that jokey shorthand: God, I hope my kid doesn’t end up in rehab. Or: God, I hope my kid doesn’t end up in therapy. I understand the underlying wish—I hope my kid grows up happy and safe. When we say things like that, though, we underscore the false belief that people who seek help are failures and people who don’t seek help are a success. It’s not true. Some of the healthiest, most accomplished people I know went to both rehab and therapy, and I’ve known some sick motherfuckers who managed to avoid both.