How is Lucien Feeling? - #2

Updated: Jan 2, 2020

Lucien is Feeling: Bothersome but Noticed

Caption: There’s just something so dismissive and unhealthy about the phrases “I’m fine/okay” & “it’s whatever”. I’m one to speak on this considering that these are two catchphrases of mine. I’m completely guilty when it comes to using these phrases, but it’s honestly so easy. It’s second nature to just put off feeling anything. No one ever wants to be the person who dims the light or cuts the party short. No one wants to burden anyone with their issues. Coming off as a liability makes me feel like such a buzzkill, especially because I’m such an extrovert. If you know me (and chances are that you do), you know that I’m almost always happy. I’m so extra that you’d assume that I’m on speed most of the time (I’m not, but I understand if you don’t believe me. I don’t make a compelling case to prove that I’m not). But if you truly know me, you already know how low the lows get. You see it in my face, you read about it on my finsta account, you catch the body language, etc. It’s interesting to see the switch in personality, but those who’ve had the pleasure/displeasure of seeing both sides, you know how conscious I get about it. You know how badly I try to fight off the sadness. I don’t like people to see me upset or pessimistic. Most of the time, I do an okay job of delaying how I’m feeling by laughing it off. A lot of the time, I’m pretty decent at not letting anyone know until it’s time to share. But whenever it’s time to share, it’s overwhelming. It’s a lot at once. It doesn’t help that I talk a mile a minute. So, it’s just easier to dismiss everything with a “It’s whatever. I’m fine.”

I wrote a poem a couple months ago that truly fits with this post. I won’t post the whole thing because (1) it’s not about the poem, (2) there’s strong language & i’m not sure how much I can get away with while I’m blogging on this website, (3) I figure you want me to get to the point. I titled it “the comic relief” and this excerpt perfectly encompasses these feelings I have:

”shall we feast our eyes on the true hero

who’s battery is, publicly, never on zero

that’s always preset with a witty reply,

or joke, or expression? ‘get a load of this guy.

i swear, he is never pessimistic.

he is always smiling, you’d think he’s psychotic.’

you’re right

and everyday, my insanity reaches new heights.

the problems i kept inside are laced up tight,

but hide another in my closet, i just might.

you never see the comic relief slacking

but if you do, who cares. you’re too busy tracking

the hero. the damsel. the protagonist.

what set them off? what was their catalyst?

who’s gonna lighten up the mood

or give a good speech, like ‘a good friend would do’

but never ever return the favor

cuz times running out. movie’s almost over.

you’ll wish that everything was tied more neatly

or that the ending ended storylines discreetly

but it’ll never cross your mind

that the joker, so kind,

carried the world on his back

never showing a sign he’d crack

and he didn’t even get a happily ever after.

people only valued him for laughter

disregarding he’s human.

no one sees the true him.”

- an excerpt from “the comic relief.“ by Lucien Edme

But I want to tell you a quick story about a time when the comic relief got noticed.

This past week, I was blessed to help lead the first ever Marist Youth Mission Conference. It was beautiful, but this isn’t about that. There came a point where I was completely rundown and upset, but I kept it hidden as best as I could (which in retrospect, wasn’t that great). But during break, I went to my room and just sprawled out on my bed completely drained when I noticed my fellow young adult leader was there. Eric. Now, Eric and I have been friends for awhile. Don’t ask me when we met. I wouldn’t be able to tell you which Marist event we met at. But we met and, at most, we see each other at least twice a year. We were friends, but I used the title of “friend” loosely because we never really spoke frequently. I never knew the true reason why we were what we were and I’ll admit that I didn’t take our friendship seriously (and for that, i’m truly sorry). But he felt something off when I came into the room we shared together. I told him I was fine, but he knew better. It got to the point where he got on my bed & refused to go on with his day (or even answer how his day was) until I told him what was bothering me. He even hit me with a pillow, he was that frustrated with me. It was hard. It still is, telling someone what’s wrong. But he picked up on the fact and told me straight up that he believed that because of the distance & lack of physical presence, he will never truly feel that I feel safe enough to let him in. So with that, I let him in a little bit. And he didn’t listen with intentions to respond. He didn’t listen to be nosy. He listened to hear me speak. He listened because he cared. And that...that was everything.

It doesn’t matter what was bothering me at the time.

It doesn’t matter what he and I said to each other in that room. What mattered most was that for the first time in a long time, I truly felt heard. Valued. Noticed. It was like God talked through him to me. It was beautiful. It’s incorrect to refer to him as solely my “friend” now. Eric’s my brother. He’ll probably feel a little embarrassed now because all I did was worship him in this, but I really wrote this as a thank you to those like him & as a PSA to those who want to. Check up on your “strong” friend or your “comic relief” friend or your “therapist” friend not because it suddenly dawned on you that mental health matters. Check up on them because they’re your family and they might need it.

PS: I want to give a special shoutout to Br. Brian Poulin for inspiring me to come back to blogging after almost two months. Thank you for showing me that it‘s time. Make sure you all check out his heartfelt blog entries as well. (I’ll link the latest one here.)

Song: Tame Impala - Feels Like We Only Go Backwards

Signature: Lucien “the most dramatic person you’ll come across” Edme

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