The Unseen Secret Behind Joy V.’s Enigmatic Lightkeeping Journey Revealed
I asked if he wanted help. He said yes, absolutely. His emphatic answer turned my fear into blind determination: I was not going to let him fucking die, not on my watch.
But before we could make concrete plans, he got lightheaded. He excused himself and went upstairs. I heard a bathroom fan circulating. I naively thought he was showering or brushing his teeth. But I’d later realize he was vomiting right onto the floor, a bleak ritual that subsumes the end-stage alcoholic’s life. He then passed out on a stained, bare mattress, another part of the ritual, red-flag behaviors that get filed under “self-neglect from severe alcohol addiction.” At that point, he had money. He didn’t have to live this way. And yet, he did.
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