What Happened to Brandon?

As I said in my first blog post everything I type here is true and the more I realize that, the harder it is to finally accept this as a truth. Please understand that I’m only introducing Brandon to you in this way, because Brandon was first my best friend and then my lover when I was 17 until I was 21. I’m 23 now and in a completely new relationship, living a completely different life that I never would’ve even dreamed of.

I’m finally talking about this, because I want to be completely happy now and accepting this as a truth allows me to move on with a sense of closure. A sense of closure that quite frankly I never got and yes with every right I have…that pisses me the fuck off.I’m finally choosing to tell my story in a way that is freeing to my soul, something I’ve been craving perhaps. Writing/typing just seems like the best option for me right now since I’m traveling all over the world now.

Brandon’s sudden death still makes no sense to me. All I know is that his body was found with needle marks all over his legs and his ass. Some say the needles were still injected into his skin. I honestly don’t fucking know, and it kills me till this day. Brandon fell victim to drugs very young and very fast, but one thing I always knew for sure was that he hated Heroin.

When I first met Brandon I honestly felt attracted to him immediately. He had a white creamy looking complexion with big lost green eyes. His attitude about life was magnetic. He always seemed lost though and I was oddly into that. One major thing that no one ever really knew about Brandon was that he never got to meet his real dad, and the one and only person he considered his father was kidnapped when he was 15.

I still remember sometimes when Brandon got really drunk, he would begin to cry and say ” I just wanna die and see my dad again”. He never really talked about how that bothered him deep down, but I low-key knew it affected him. It affected him everyday because he was just numbing the pain with all types of prescription drugs, and loads of alcohol.

Even though Brandon was a year younger than me, he was very knowledgeable about the “drug world”. It didn’t take long for me to become addicted to that lifestyle, because it was something about Brandon and how he never thought what he was doing was unhealthy. He grew up accustomed to that lifestyle that it just seemed normal to him and honestly he was a completely highly functional addict that you would’ve never noticed.

Brandon had been taking Ritalin since he was 6 years old, because that is the age he was first diagnosed with ADHD. I still remember seeing his grandma come into his room to give him his daily dose. A routine she’d been doing religiously since he was 18. You do the math.  I think back to all of this, and I seriously wish I knew what I know now. (“The drug should be stopped gradually. Withdrawal symptoms are psychological and stopping suddenly can cause extreme fatigue and severe, even suicidal, depression in adult patients.”)

It all kind of makes sense to me now. I never thought he’d ever be addicted to Heroin, but when he stopped taking Ritalin out of the blue one day that’s when he grew more curious about other drugs like cocaine and well fucking Heroin. I believe in his last days of his life he experimented with it, because:

A study supported by the National Institute on Drug Abuse found that users of Ritalin and similar drugs “showed the highest percentage of cocaine abuse.”

Because a tolerance builds up, abuse of Ritalin can lead users to consume stronger drugs to achieve the same high. When the effects start to wear off, the person may turn to more potent drugs to rid himself of the unwanted conditions that prompted him to abuse the drug in the first place.

Ritalin itself does not lead the person to other drugs: people take drugs to get rid of unwanted situations or feelings. The drug masks the problem for a time (while the user is high). When the “high” fades, the problem, unwanted condition or situation returns more intensely than before. The user may then turn to stronger drugs since Ritalin no longer “works.”

A study of 500 students over a period of twenty years found those who used Ritalin and related drugs had a greater likelihood of using cocaine and other stimulants later in life.

According to a study, teens who abuse prescription drugs are twelve times likelier to use heroin, fifteen times likelier to use Ecstasy and twenty times likelier to use cocaine, compared to teens who do not abuse such drugs.

It fucks me up just reading that. The truth fucking hurts. Facing the facts has always been my weakness. “Ignorance is bliss” was something that rang true to me for the longest time but it’s time to wake up, because Brandon is actually gone. I can’t help but try to blame it on something like “Ritalin”, because I’m tired of blaming myself for his death. It’s such a depressing thought.

Brandon and I lived together since we were 17 and not once did he ever do Heroin and never would I have allowed it, but we sure did everything else. Sadly we ended up becoming addicted to the lamest drug ever. Synthetic marijuana AKA K2 or Spice, and honestly that is the most poisonous drug you could ever introduce to your lungs, and just so fucking disgusting when I think back on it.

We were both toxic addicts by the age of 20. Brandon and I were already having so many problems at the time that losing my son to the state of Texas was my first wake up call and I almost killed myself over it and well Brandon pretty much did. He killed what was left of himself, because that was the year I decided I was tired of popping bars, smoking spice and drinking myself to sleep. I finally left him and moved to Idaho to sober the fuck up. It was the hardest thing I had to do in my entire life because I loved that boy deeply. If only I knew what wouldve happened to him when I left him back in Texas.

My brain and heart hurt. To be continued…..




Who Is B. Keith?

I would like to set the record straight right now, because as much as I love picking out catchy phrases for myself “Far-fetched Layla” is exactly that, just a catchy phrase I had to come up with for this lovely blog. Please note that everything I do type here will be completely true and that is the only reason that motivated me to create this blog in the first place. To have something I can come and spill truth to, because sometimes people “can’t handle the truth”.

Andrew Stock is my boyfriend and now that I think about it i’m not exactly sure when he started calling me “far-fetched”, but the reason why he started calling me that is , because…. well the things I seem to believe are generally debunked, unrealistic, or considered as conspiracy theories, myths and so on. For example: astrology; some people hate it, and some people love it. I’m one of those people that truly loves it and low-key believes in it.

I’ve always been a little “out there” growing up. I’m trying to think back and I can recall the exact age I started acting up. I was 15 years old when I barely started to express how I felt about the “after effects” of my parents divorce through bizarre clothing trends, badly done piercings, and of course the “devils lettuce” and “devils mouthwash”. (Alcohol&Marijuana)

You see growing up I was actually a pretty good kid. My parents were Mormon and dedicated themselves to taking us to church every sunday and wednesday till they finally gave up individually at separate times. My parents divorced when I was about 6 years old. So, you see I was too young at the time to fully understand what was going on, but I understood why we had to leave my dad.

I remember when I was younger, I was taught to believe that if you did something wrong you will get punished for it physically, and that’s just how discipline was. Growing up both of my parents hit my 2 brothers (Malik and Danilo Jr)and I. It was just something that had to be done if you fucked up. So seeing my dad hit my mom when I was younger was processed the same way. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what my mom and dad truly went through together.

We were still living in Utah at the time when my mom decided enough was enough and she decided to pack up and drive all the way to Laredo, TX  to grandmas with my brothers and I where we ended up living for a good while. I don’t really remember saying goodbye to my dad, but I do remember having to take a crap in the middle of nowhere while my mom helped wipe.

Living with grandma seems like a blur, because it wasn’t too long till my my mom finally met Aristeo. My step-dad and my moms husband who she’s been with since 2002. At age 8 I was pretty much old enough to go back and forth from Laredo, Tx to salt lake city, Utah with Malik and Jr to visit my single dad at the time.

It was like that till I was like 17, and through those years so much shit happened I wouldn’t even know where to begin but I was always going up and down with my mom and dad, causing so much drama between them and making them buy airplane tickets for me to go back and forth.

As a teenager I took advantage of the divorce situation and chose which parent to hate and which parent to live off of until finally I got sick of moving. I went back to my mom in Laredo and that’s where I like to think I kinda transformed completely, and not in a good way.I started to go against my mom. I literally made things so much worse that it forced my mother to move into a small apartment with my brothers and I. I was so toxic, my step-dad needed a break.

I was already beyond out of control. I was a drop out with a incomplete G.E.D, but managed to become a C.N.A, and it almost seemed like things were getting better but that lasted like 8 months and I never showed up to work again. I was busy getting high by myself. Since I didn’t go to school anymore my so called friends were becoming distant and that led me to stop working because making money seemed pointless to a 17 year old with no friends.

After a couple of months of living in that small apartment I decided to go outside to my backyard to check on the dogs and smoke a cigarette. For the first time ever I never thought I’d be writing about him in this way, but there Brandon was. As I was sitting on the AC unit outside smoking, he came up to the fence that separated his yard from mine and said ” Hey, aren’t you that girl that wanted to be a nurse?”

B Keith AKA Bee Keith AKA Brandon Schwarz AKA the father of my two beautiful children. Zane Leidon Schwarz and Beatrix Elaine Schwarz. In memory of Brandon I would like to dedicate most of my blog to him, because of him It led me to such an unexpected life, so much pain and sorrow, but so much growth and wisdom. I want to share my side of the story of how he passed away, and how it still effects my life.

Since this is my first actual blog post I will leave you with this. To be continued…..because i’ve never typed this much in my life and my hand is literally cramping.