Nonfictional lies.

These are difficult words for me to write: I lied about what happened yesterday.  The road did turn into a parking lot.  I did spy a car crest the hill behind me as I crept into an impenetrable fog alongside a semi. 

But I never "braced for impact," as I first wrote. 

So as not to be branded a liar, I replaced "braced" with the more accurate "readied."  However, in clear violation of The Trivialities of Deportment as Required by the Guardians of Best Online Society, I made this emendation silently.  There's no indication that the word "readied" occupies the space originally reserved for "braced." 

Why'd I do this, and why am I telling you about it?

The title of this post is an awful pun grounded in the reality of traumatic experience.  Talking to the wife last night, I remembered that after the car crested I'd remembered reading that human bodies are more likely to survive brutal demonstrations of differential inertia when they go slack.  After I remembered that, I relaxed my neck and attempted a deep breath before the sedan changed course.  I did what is rightly called the opposite of bracing: I made like an abandoned marionette and begged the Laws of Physics to commute the inevitable.  When the sedan buzzed by, I was draped limp on the driver's seat awaiting a cascade of concussive pains as my car endeavored to save my life.

Why am I telling you this?  Because people who deal with people like me for a living have told me to control what I can control.  I can't stop the sudden intrusion of the inexplicably awful into previously pleasant dreams, but I can edit the written account of the experience responsible for the trespass.  I understand that violations of decorum in the name of therapy might offend the finely-wrought sensibilities of some of you, but I currently value my mental health more than my reputation.  (Without the former I could never rehabilitate the latter.) 

Not that I'm worried.  My shudder of a pun describes a process I'm not ashamed of being victimized by.  The unintentional stuttering of memory results in nonfictional lies . . . in moments misremembered as time dilates in expectation of bright death.  They're the pare shavings trauma whittles from memory and they are inevitable.  In order to nonfictionalize that post, I'll need to replace some nonfictional lies with others, and the thought of being called out on account of altering inconsequential details is too much to bear right now. 

I'm not changing my story: I'm nonfictionalizing it.

To give another example, when I said I was listening to NPR when I noticed the car, I think I maybe lied.  I didn't think I had until when I was talking to my brother and let slip that I'd been listening to Big Star's "Life is White" when I noticed the other car.  Given that I couldn't have been listening to NPR and a track from Radio City at the same time, I suppose I must have lied when I said that in my panic I'd ignored the former's chatter.  I must've been listening to Big Star when it happened. 

But on the way to campus today, I received an autonomic knee to the nuts followed by a fulsome horripilative event and had to slam the stereo silent and pull over.  What brought it on?

"Percussion Gun."

The violence of the dueling floor toms didn't do it: it was the frank beauty of its soaring midsection that primed me for fighting or alighting.   I turned the stereo back on and restarted the song and was awash in fresh panic again.  I think my body might be remembering something I don't . . . or it might be another nonfictional lie I need to process. 

I can't say.  But it feels more true tonight, and if it still does come morning, I'll edit the post to better reflect the reality I'm presently remembering. 

Comments

[David]

Is this it?

Riverside man killed when car veers off freeway into Corona parking lot

[Sisyphus]

Is this a bad time to point out that I love that song, especially the drums, and even though I have absolutely no money right now I thought it was worth buying it? (It may be the best song on the album, though)

Poor Scott. I hope you have some peace of mind soon.

[Singularity]

Terrible thing to have to be involved with something like this. Sorry you have to deal with it. Glad you were not hurt. Just remember that it could have been much worse. You likely saved your own life and the lives of others.

[Jonathan Dresner]

Interesting. If David's right about that accident being the one you witnessed/experienced/survived, then you're wrong about the make of the car, too.

Memory is a funny thing. One Saturday morning, as a child, I was telling my parents about the Coyote v. Roadrunner cartoon I'd just watched. One episode involved a present-wrapping maching: obviously, instead of the Roadrunner, it was Coyote who got caught in it, and ended up as a small white package with a pink ribbon and coyote feet.... hilarious. But my mother pointed out that we had a black and white TV, so how did I know the bow was pink? I still don't understand, and my memory of that pink bow is almost as strong today as it was then.

I have to admit, my view of what matters in terms of post editing is more pragmatic than orthodox: if you notice an error before anyone else comments on it, or quotes it, I don't think you're doing any substantive harm to the fabric of the Web by making minor corrections. (In this case, since you've publicly admitted to your otherwise unnoticeable correction, you're doubly covered, ethically speaking.)

All the best, Scott. If there's anything we at a distance can do, do not hesitate to let us know, publicly or privately.

[The Modesto Kid]

The malleability of memory might be part of the foundation of consciousness? Moments of trauma (hearing the crash, seeing the crumpled car) are very difficult to forget or to misremember but all the other moments -- including the context of the trauma -- are infinitely changeable.

[skinnyiain]

Sounds like you may have some degree of PTSD given the uncontrollable violent reaction to the song. IANAD or any variety of mental health professional, but still...

On the subject of memory filling-in things, what you call 'nonfictional lies' are known to psychologists as 'confabulations' and increasingly it's being recognised just how much of all our memories are composed of and pieced-together by them. Usually it doesn't matter and we don't notice. It's only in cases like yours when we feel the need to check over and compare with other sources of information that they even come to light.

[alkau]

Question - did past memory enter in to recall? Remember you were involved in an accident when you were about 16. You said at that time that the hand of God pushed the car at the last second and you missed a dead on hit with a tree. It seems that someone may indeed be watching out for you. One accident with minor injuries at 16; one hit by a car on campus that should have killed you , but just gave you a great deal of pain and now, another accident that could have killed you or seriously injured you. I believe someone is trying to send you a message. Think about it!

[Ahistoricality]

I believe someone is trying to send you a message.

Stay away from cars!