15 Apr The Funny Friend
In my life, I feel like I always keep everyone laughing. I love to see others smile. I love seeing others happy. Am I happy? Tricky question. I would say I experience the feeling of being lighter in certain situations. Like, when my best friend Facetime’s me to just tell me about his day or when I’m out with my friends and it feels like the night may never end, but in the best way.
But, even in those situations, I find myself dissociating. I will literally blank out in the middle of a bar or at a sleepover with my friends because that feeling of lightness will disappear and I’ll begin to feel heavy again. So I block it out, humor. Dark jokes, light jokes, buying my friends gifts for no reason because how I was raised, if you want someone to know you love them or that you’re sorry, you buy them things. I hate this idea, I hate materialism. But others seem to enjoy it. So I continue.
I’ll make every joke and keep the room in the highest spirits despite my own because it makes me feel good to see others feel light. Does that make sense? I don’t know. The thing about being the “funny friend” is we seem the happiest, right? We seem like we float on air and that we’re always smiling and laughing. We’re not. We want to be, though.
We make really weird jokes sometimes, we can’t handle extended periods of silence, most people would say we can be “overwhelming” and “too much sometimes”. We don’t mean to, though. Dark thoughts consume us and we just want to push them out, black them out, erase them. But unfortunately, dark thoughts are like deep stains. No amount of bleach can remove them. Or in our case, no amount of anything. But laughter and smiles, it’s like a beautiful, crazy rug that hides it. The rug is what we want you to see, bursts of color and spirits. But underneath? No, no please. Don’t lift it up. There’s nothing you want underneath there. But eventually, those stains will seep through and get on the rug. So, we bleach again. That’s why some of our rugs are a little discolored.
For example, when we accidentally drink way more than our friends and start crying or when our friends express how “weird” they think we are. They say it light-heartedly, but we don’t take it lightly. We close off and try to rewire again. Less talking, less attention, but keep the room light. New rug. Personally, I love being the funny friend. I love keeping people up, because for a moment, I too, feel up. But, sometimes, I also hate it. I hate the feeling of responsibility it causes me to be the person to blame for when things get annoying. I hate the feeling I get when people tell me I’m annoying. Or ask me why I laugh too hard for too long. It hurts. They think about it in the moment, I think about it for at least a month. I’m getting off track, so basically.
Social distancing has made it extremely hard to be the funny friend. I don’t have a group around me to tell jokes to in order to block out the dark and consuming thoughts. I’m scared when this is over, I may be too overwhelming because of how much isolation this has caused me. I miss being the funny friend. I miss making my friends laugh. I miss not feeling like this. I don’t know what my rug will look like when this is over and I’m scared.