It is what it is – May 13, 2026 – Commentary with Jen Brien

by Jen Brien, commentary, contributing writer

IT’S THE UNSEEN THINGS THAT MATTER

Folks, this week I want to write about a thing that’s been on my heart for a while now… but… really found it’s way deep into my psyche after the murder of an old friend in Maine last week.

LET’S BEGIN:

As many of you know, and MAYBE some don’t, I struggled with alcoholism for a very long time. It wasn’t because I loved the taste (it all smells and tastes disgusting to me), or loved a good time (I was ALWAYS the first one to pass out) or needed “liquid courage”… I just got to a place where the truth of living “life on life’s terms” was just too painful for me and I longed to escape this world even if just for a short while.

I was a very deep thinker at a young age (beginning around 6/7) and I struggled with a number of things in my home as a kid though both my parents did the best they could, given where THEY were at in life at that time. Once I SAW them, not as who I wished they were, but WHO they actually were (“developmental disillusionment”) my mind searched for a way to cope and started looking for an escape hatch. The reality of this life was too harsh… and VERY sad for me as a kid…and I wanted out. NOT OUT-OUT like end it all out… just out of that situation. I’d hide in my closet when no one cared where I was and pretend the back wall would open up into another world. I drew characters with crayons on the wall and drew a big picture of where I wanted to live and what I wanted it to look like. It was wonderful… and it was my secret for a little while… and it was my escape. Then one day, I came home from school only to find mom had washed it all off and punished me for drawing on the wall to begin with. I cried. I was devastated. I was trapped in a place that I had to stay in, and I wasn’t sure when I could leave.

It was very hard for me during those early years. I didn’t know what was happening or how to articulate it… but I felt very alone and between those feelings, confusion and that damn ‘CRYING INDIAN” pollution commercial from the 1970’s… I was a hot mess. I was an 8-year-old suffering with existential dread. I did the best I could, but I carried that weight into my young adult years.

As I got older and hit my twenties, (btw – I moved out as soon as I turned 18) I longed for more. A real life… not a drunk one (mind you at this point, I figured out how to get booze and whatever else I needed. It really wasn’t that difficult, and I spent a great deal of time escaping in it) . I longed for a life marked with success and a life lived for the greater good. I desperately wanted my existence to matter. I didn’t want to float along infecting the world… I wanted to affect it. How I longed for purpose. (SIDE NOTE – I actually thought of becoming a NUN… but I said “nah”. You can’t drink Budweiser in a convent”… this is true…

I ended up signing up for the ARMY in my hometown hoping to make dad proud because he was in the ARMY too, so it seemed to make sense doing that. In bootcamp I’d lay awake at night in my bunk thinking about my heroes… Nelson Mandela and his fight for justice… Princess Diana who reached out her hand to a man sick with AIDS during the 80’s when everyone was terrified… and I thought about the track star, FLOJO, who took the 1988 summer Olympics by storm and broke barriers and records with her own flashy style. I was mesmerized by her achievements and discipline. I wanted to be someone like those people who did something big… not for applause, but for the good of the world. I wanted to change things for the better. There were some rough spots in those military years, however, and I left the service a changed person… and in many ways not for the good. My alcoholism leveled up and I became a blackout drinker. I was a menace and did crazy things and really… it’s a wonder I’m still alive. The only thing that helped me through those years was my faith… which I had. I always loved Jesus and had faith… even if I had zero idea of who he was.

So, what does this all have to do with my friend, Marlene? During the “lost years” of my alcoholism, (like a good decade and then some) I went to treatment over and over and over again. It looked something like: REHAB… REHAB… DETOX… REHAB… DETOX… DETOX… REHAB… lying about my drinking but working and functioning… REHAB… DETOX… DETOX… REHAB… etc…. etc…you get the point. All those years spent in programs and struggling I met a bazillion people. Really good people who lost their way and were struggling to find their way back. Some lived, many died, and some I became close with.

One of the people I became close with was Marlene. She was in a program with me over 10 years ago and we were roommates at one point. We spent a lot of time talking, laughing, searching for answers and praying for guidance. Marlene was special. She drew people toward her and had that “thing” that only certain people have. She was a ROCKSTAR. SHE was special. Once I returned from treatment and went back to work, with my life and all the insanity of the daily grind we lost touch. She moved to Maine, stayed sober, had two children and lived with her partner, Mike. She built a sweet regular life for herself. Every so often for a while she would comment on my FB page about something I had posted or just shoot a text saying “HI FRIEND”… but life happens, and we get busy… we hadn’t communicated in a long while. FAST FORWARD to last Monday.

My phone chirped around 6:01pm and  I got message from a friend, and she wrote in a text “I just saw Marlene died…tell me it’s not true?!” I was SHOCKED. I went into crazy chaotic mode searching and looking for information and after about 15 minutes… I saw yes indeed, Marlene had died. She was murdered at her place of employment in Maine. She had been stabbed to death. I was absolutely stunned as everyone was and still is. She fought for her life in rehab only for it to end this way.

Marlene went to work last Monday believing it was like any other day and would head home for dinner when her shift was over. Thing is, she never made it home. I’ve been thinking about that and this whole awful situation this past week. Just really reflecting and trying to make sense of it all… which is impossible really… but in all of this Marlene has reminded me… or actually taught me… that my need to live a big life in order to be someone and change the world is ridiculous. Marlene lived an amazing life and changed the lives of countless people by grinding it out every day at work. By showing up. By being kind and loyal to the things set before her and by never giving up.

In a sea full of people that are desperate to be seen for anything and everything Marlene was doing important, purposeful work quietly. She built a life. She was sober, she was a friend to many and was unapologetically herself.

Marlene’s life was the real deal…. and she wasn’t in the spotlight. She didn’t need to be seen to feel as though she was somebody. She just was because she was good. Plain and simple.

RIP old friend.

I know for sure you’re a full blown ROCK STAR up there in heaven right now…

Just as you were here on earth…. quietly.

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That’s all I got this week gang. “IT IS WHAT IT IS”.

Till next time,

Jen

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Jen Brien has over 20 years of radio broadcast experience having hosted shows on WPRO and WHJJ with Ron as well as her own shows on WRKO and WBZ in Boston, WXTK on Cape Cod and WHAM in Rochester, New York. Jen was born and raised in Woonsocket and served six years in the Army MP Canine  Unit.

To read more columns and commentary by Jen, go here: https://2×8.ea2.myftpupload.com/ron-st-pierre-jen-brien/