Train to Nowhere

I have been to the bottom of shit. Maybe not rock bottom, but I’ve been close. It took my parents calling my doctor knowing I would not listen to them. But my doctor, I obeyed. He sent me to classes for a week. I learned how to live. Reinventing the wheel. I have never fallen off the wagon since. I was 21 at the time. My sister used to check me while I slept to make sure I was still breathing. It was not an addiction of sorts. It was diabetes. I had lost interest in caring for myself until I got better and realized how good that felt.

My brother-in-law is going to die. We all think this. My sister divorced him several years ago due to his addiction to alcohol. A year after him moving out, she found six packs of PBR in the bushes of her backyard, bleached from the sun or hidden in her utility shed.

He had been evicted from his apartment over a week ago after not being able to hold a job for three years. While sleeping on a park bench, he was arrested and taken to a drunk tank. They told him he had hypothermia. He managed to escape. I don’t know how. His uncle had died on a park bench, drunk with hypothermia.

At 6 am… he knocked on my sister’s door asking if he could sleep on her couch for a while. He looked of death and she knew sending him away would possibly be his end. She urged him to contact his mother in Arizona. His phone had died as he had lost the recharger so the number was unavailable. He slept for a while and she took him to a Motel 6 and put him up for the night.

She stayed up half the night trying to find his mother or father online. Finally, she remembered his mother’s name and was able to retrieve the number. She couldn’t make the call. Didn’t know what to say. “Hello, your son is dying”. It seemed impossible. She contacted his old friends and they relieved her of duty. They paid for a second night at the Motel 6, bought him a hamburger, contacted an aunt in El Segundo explaining the weight of the situation to her. Promptly, they bought him a train ticket to get to his aunt the next day.

Upon speaking to him, they told him he MUST quit drinking. He said he didn’t want to. He is out of options. They are all fed up. We do not know if he will bail from the train before reaching his aunt. We are all forced to wash our hands of it now. They did what they could. He is fighting to live or he would not have showed up at my sister’s house. But we all know, the end is near. He is his only hope and hope is grim.

Train to Nowhere

Zolton

Portland, United States

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