52 minutes....20 seconds

My advice is, skip this entry........and I usually give good advice :o)

I have never really spewed forth drama in this journal. Personally, I could do without it on the whole and avoid things in life that could be potentially drama filled......like the plague. I am, in business, in family, in day to day, in dealing with friends and pets and kids and anything else, I am the level gal, the even Steven, nary an outburst, nary the drama kinda person. So when I am faced with a problem I cannot solve and I'm hanging onto the last shred of my cool, calm, collected persona, I find myself completely at a loss for direction.

This drama type shit is made for someone else, someone else who thrives on it and comes flying out of the corner with her phone attached to her ear and a phone tree bigger then a sycamore. I just can't do that, hate doing that, won't do that. But I can write......Tonight is simply my recording of a night I doubt I'll forget, for me.

This evening, after wafting around my home in flyfishing euphoria, I got a phone call that was so heavy, such a burden, and so awful, I felt mute for exactly 22 minutes after I got off the phone. My Brother, the alcoholic who I knew was spiraling into oblivion called to say Good-bye. He was crying, which he never, ever, never, does. When I realized what he was saying, what he was doing, what he was about to do, I did what a person like me does, record it. I wonder now if that was twisted of me to think of doing, but I sat at my computer and like a good little secretary I typed almost every word he said...while I tried to reason with him, influence him, save him....but typed anyway......just in case they were really his last.

I don't know if anyone reading this has ever heard the voice, the words, of someone who wanted to end their life at the time they were actually standing on the very brink of doing it. Until this night, I hadn't. Now I have the hard copy. I guess there's good things in life, and there are really bad things. And tonight, I officially submit in my journal, proof of the really bad things. The really sad things. The devastating things.

I need to keep it. The voice of alcoholism at it's worst. Life at it's worst. Pain and despair at it's worst. A burden on my shoulders that I can't begin to explain. A choice I had to make that I never, ever want to make again.

My brothers words:

"your talking to a dead man
I'm dead
Your the last person I'm ever going to talk to and I'm just glad it's my sister so I can tell you I love you. I have no choice, alcohol has me, every piece of me.
Nobody is here, when I need someone the most
I'm finished.
Don't cry at my funeral, I've caused enough tears
I'm really hurting Bec'
Tomorrow is nothing, I could care less about it
Tell Mom and Dad how sorry I am
if you calls the cops, I'm dead before they knock down the door
your overthinking bec, if I go to the hospital again, I still will want to drink when I get out
why did I even call you....I don't care anymore.....all you want me to do is go the hosptal
If you call the cops, I swear to god it will be too late
If you dare show up here I will slash my throat, see if I can do it, I swear I will
I got nothin left, nothin
Stop trying to talk me out of this, I just called to say goodbye, I'm done, I love you, I'm sorry
shut up, screw you....I mean, not screw you, cause I love you, but I'm done
I'm done I bought the knife today just for this
Instead of a year without seeing Mom and Dad, it's a life
If you call the cops, you kill me for sure
They want a year away from me, they can have a lifetime
I don't know why I called you, I thought you would be my sister and let me die in peace
your committing your Brother to suicide hell if you try to help
I'm sorry for Mom and Dad, for putting up with me and all that I'm through with this I'm done
1) there's nothing I would do to hurt you guys 2) well, I guess thats it
Alcohol chooses me, when you see me and Mom and dad in my coffin you'll see a guy who once mattered to someone .....you can't help me, I got no way out. You just don't understand. I don't know why I called you, your not helping, I thought you would understand my goodbye....your confusing me....forget it you know......just I need a chance to come back around..you know....don't call the cops or anything weird. Forget it, they can't help me, you don't understand....well Mom and ddad don't want to see me they aint gonna see me alive again........stupid move, I'll be a dead man on the spot....your my sister...the closest family I got that will talk to me......I got no other way out, nothin....aint gonna happen...I'm done....I don't have any choice anymore, it'snot the matter if you drink you lose, if your done....I don't have that choice, it chooses me. I don't have choice. You guys will never know until I'm dead, I'm totally dead it chooses me, I don't choose it. I'm hurting can't you hear it in my voice, it's over, it's done. I just thought I would I would Say I love you, it's done, don't call the cops. It's real.
You can't help Bec, it's over, just let me deal with it. I'm gonna do it or I'm not. Thanks for being there to help me. And thats it. basically, sorry, sounds like I need superior help, but no body can help me but me. I'm the only one that can help me, but I can't do that cause alcohol rules my life. It's not a matter of mind over matter, or a choice, I don't have a fucking choice, thats what you guys don't understand......thats them, those AA people hugging and kissing thats not me, I'm beyond that. I got no where to live, I'm through with my job, I got nothin. I'm gonna put the knife right through my throat.
so whats the point so fuck it. Screw it, I'm done. I love you. I'm sorry yo ugotta see me at my funeral. not that you have to go, I'm sorry I just don't ......just don't call the cops, the knifes in my throat and I'll just shove it through if I hear even a knock on the door.......hospital or whatever. Either let me get over it or I'm doing it. .......the bible, I tried reading that bible you gave me, it doesn't help. I'm gonna let you go, I've wasted way to much of your time. Let me cope with it. deal with it. do you understand. Your brothers in hell, going to hell I love you bec I gotta go now   click "
52 minutes........20 seconds conversation Between Ben G****** and Rebecca H****** his sister on Sunday night between the time of 9:00 p.m and 10:00 p.m. Rebecca's words ommitted

22 minutes. I sat at my desk watching the minutes click away, paralyzed. Call the cops, risk having them storm in on him and have him plunge a knife through his throat, or let him do what he needed to do, find the peace he's begging for....or hope he didn't do anything.

22 minutes is a very, very long time to stare at a clock. I didn't call anyone, I didn't do anything but stare at my clock. I've never been in a position where I felt such responsibility for something so important. Choices, the very thing I live and die for, can be so simple, or so unbearable.

Choice: to let him do what he wanted to do by not doing a damn thing..........well, I decided that was a really fucked up thing to pack around on my shoulders for life. Choice: call the cops and have him plunge the knife in exactly as he said would happen if I called the cops. Another fucked up thing to have wrapped around my throat like a noose for life.

It took me 22 minutes to pick the lesser evil of two life sentences for me. I called the police. I told them what Ben threatened. I jumped in my car, went to his hotel and parked across the street to watch what happened. I knew, ambulance bad, only cops good.

But this is where things got screwy. In a matter of minutes 7 police cars came, parking away from the hotel. Sneak, quiet mode.  From my view I could see them crawling around like ants, but I saw them go to the wrong hotel room. I saw them extract, calmly and simply a man out of this room. I was confused and didn't think it was my brother, but kept watching. Then, police crawled around some more and finally busted into my brothers room.

He didn't accomplish his threat. In his drunken state he dived for the knife, but didn't get the job done quickly enough......the police officer told me.

The thing is, I realize now, that had I not called the police, my Brother would have certainly seen the police lights once they pulled into the parking lot, for the other man. Evidently, within minutes of my call, another call came in about a man who was beating up his wife in another hotel room. If I hadn't called, my brother would have seen those lights and most likely assumed I had called the police and they were there for him. He could have done his deed and no one would have known. He never knew they were there until they already had the door flung open. Thankfully.

This is probably the longest and horrid post I've ever made. Who knows. I'm a dead thought walking right now anyway, I'm bone weary, mind exhausted and everything else you could stuff in a bottle of hell dealing with my Brother.

Although I prevented something tonight, I know all I've done is prolong the inevitable. Unless I can finally persuade the state to keep him, long-term, since the idiots declined our motion for State Institutionalization earlier this last week. I need sleep. I can no longer think straight.

I would like to thank everyone for all your comments and emails of support in regard to my Brother over the last few weeks. They have been very appreciated and helpful.

But tonight.........please

No need to comment on this post of record, it is what it is. A problem I cannot fix, avoid, or rationalize.