TheLegendsLeague: Second March
by be.
For those of you who missed out on what TheLegendsLeague MySpace used to be like, check this one update I found tonight on my computer talking about my 3rd suicide attempt and my daughter.
“I’m living a movie, not living by rules”
SAREN-SOL ESPIRITU GALLARDO
2 weeks after turning 17, the schizophrenic bouts and struggle with prescription drugs and alcoholism reached an unbearable low. Frequent visits with self proclaimed visionaries and seers furthered the confusion and disgust with self and situation. I was meeting grown men who had been informed of their own deaths and the want for authorities to have their heads; being offered cake by their house maids prior to reviewing documents of plots to overthrow the western world with religion and global peace. They told me the name of the supposed third anti-Christ and were sure that it was neccessary for me to spread the word to my loved ones so that they too could be saved. I was hiding in bathrooms reading prayers they told me to read; calling long lost lovers and pleading with them to do the same as I recited these soul saving pieces over payphone scratches and wind howling outside of grease bucket restaurants with tears on my cheeks and a doorag on. The world was shrinking well smaller than it already was.
With everything toppling into itself, I was seeing the most terrifying things in my life. Missing work from screaming out that my hands were covered in blood and I had seen the faces of the devil in pairs, known the strength of the hands of the abusive and the sound of the voice of hate and evil. It called me from the yard and offered a box through a cloaked woman in black. My heart shook with every beat, and I wrote through it all for a friend I thought I would never meet. And then on the 17th of May, 1998, I swallowed a bottle of ExtraStrength Tylenol by candle light, while reading these pages and reliving the passed 17 years. I swallowed it with a 40 of Colt, back when it still read, “Works Every Time” on the inside. I hoped so hard that it would work considering the last time I had done this, I ended up drinking that tar shit in front of my mother who had no idea how large a role she would later play in my 4th attempt as well as my most intense breakdown after 4 months spent on house arrest.
Things happen in fucked up ways, they do.
I would wake up to a hand rubbing my thigh. Well “waking” in this case refers to physically opening my eyes. Throughout the whole thing, I was very much concious. Through them yelling that I was probably armed, through them carrying me out on a stretcher and shoving tubes into me at both ends. I was concious through them saying I wasn’t breathing and was really laughing inside of my head for so much of the time. I don’t know if it was the hospital room lamp or the light at the end of the tunnel, but I can tell you this, it was peace like I’ve never had. The hand rubbing my leg was that of a woman I had met during my second attempt. I don’t know how she knew I was there, or even how she remembered me, considering it had occured 3 years prior. I only remember her saying this as she put her hand onto my forehead and rubbed it gently, “You said I would never see you again”.
Soon after she left, I began to regain my wits. I was able to speak a little bit more, and realized I had been given a catheter. I yelled at the nurse to get it out of me and she responded by wheeling me over to a spot that was a little darker and had a curtain to go around it. Before long I was in a room with none of my actual clothes still in sight and a doctor offering me a pill as big as the top part of my pinky finger. It was supposed to make me feel better.
That evening I realized I would be in the hospital for longer than an evening. I realized that they had put me with the less than sane and the supposed schizos. They didn’t give me my shoes. They wouldn’t let me wear my clothes. I was the youngest of us all, and the only one in hospital gowns. I saw a few visitors, and received, “No Kryptonite” from Ryan Donovan within a week. He told me that they needed their man of steel.
I would later write a piece entitled, “Second March” that would be an expression of the “Now what”. And the following year, on March the 2nd, my daughter was born.
I need you all to know this – I share everything with you because we are a unit. Humans as a team of individuals who power a single. That single is the good of us all. When are we going to make things grand? My suggestion is immediately. Without inspiration we are nothing, without influence we have done too little. Share yourselves, it may spare the lives of another.
Much, much love to you all.
Welcome To The Legend’s League
be.
- Bryan 'be.' Espiritu
Man…this brings up so many memories that I’ve tried so hard to bury because it hurt the people I care about. It’s a blessing to be on the other side of it, but I’ve never stopped to think that sharing that piece of pain and mental chaos might be helpful to someone else. Thank you for helping me find that insight.
God Bless you.
J~
Yo Be,
WOW. WOW. WOW.
I’m honestly lost in thought right now. Dazed. Confused. Overwhelming feelings. Shit……….
I am personally closely connected to a dear special person who has gone through a similar experience. I have always been right there next to her. Through the tears, late nights, and times of struggle. It’s funny how memories always remember you. To often do I hear people say, “why can’t they just snap out of it”, its just not that easy for a regular person to understand…. (Though I am not claiming to fully understand but my eyes have been opened, if that makes any sense). I have never shared this with anyone, thank you, I have always wanted to let it out.
I don’t know you, I probably wouldn’t even recognize you if I walk past you on the street. BUT, I sincerely want to tell you I’m proud of you (+ Willy) and anyone who is there or has been there. We are here, don’t forget.
I see your daughter smiling Be =).
Like Janine said, “Thank you for helping me find that insight”. That’s true words right there, please believe it.
I remember how much I used to look forward to your updates in the myspace page days, for pieces like this exactly. I knew it was a sure bet that I was going to be blown away by something you wrote, or something you published that someone else had wrote/drew/photographed etc.
This is what ‘The Legends League’ is about right here, and damn man, the “update” as you called it, is beyond touching, and tragic, and at the very least of it an amazing fucking read, and at the very most, incredibly open, honest, and inspiring.
I feel privileged to have read it.
Bless
i could read this a thousand times and still expect the the same effect. complete an total awe. i remember when i first camre across the Legend’s League on Myspace….it was so fucken addictive. like a fiend i would wait for my next fix.
souls been opened by the depth of your literature