I was 18 when I had my first alcohol-related blackout. I woke up in my bed in my tiny dorm room, looked at my roommate, and said, “What happened last night?” On subsequent, similar mornings, questions included “Who are you?”, “Where am I?” and “How did I get here?” I never found out the answers, but that didn’t stop me from drinking to such an extent that over the next 20 years, I regularly woke up with blank spaces where memories should have been. Read more here.