Repression is wild insofar as our minds pushing trauma down to the depths of our soul without a second thought. While guilt will ravage some to the point where certain actions become inescapable no matter what is used to numb the pain, others can completely detach themselves from the same memory. They will justify that they weren’t involved — innocent bystanders helping a friend who got in too far over his head. They fashion themselves as heroes whose karmic stockpile is cleansed from wrongdoing and thus renders them able to carry on as though nothing happened. Years go by and they forget it in a haze, merging that horrific event with the good times until unwittingly stumbling back as though called by their consciences to receive their long-awaited penance.
This notion of fate evening a score lies at the back of David McCracken
’s Bullitt County even if we aren’t aware at the start.