There have always been shows that I’ve enjoyed watching and refused to miss. But the first show I remember being engrossed in, as opposed to enjoying, was Little House on The Prairie. My mother had read the series of books to me at a young age, and I read them myself (several times) once I learned how to read. Part of my fascination was the fact my grandparents lived in Mansfield, Missouri, where the Laura Ingalls Wilder Home and Museum is located. I’ve seen Pa’s fiddle, the handwritten manuscripts of the Little House books, pictures of Laura and Almanzo, and many other items that I’ve read about. So, each week I would lose myself in the world belonging to the Ingalls family in Walnut Grove. My first TV crush was in the show – Albert Ingalls, played by Matthew Laborteaux. The character was created for the show, a boy the Ingalls family adopted. Since I’m also adopted, I felt like we’d have a lot in common. Of all the many lessons Little House imparted over the years, the one that sticks most with me is the importance of family, and family includes the community around you.
Gilligan’s Island was the next show that fired my imagination. It didn’t matter that I was watching reruns, or that the show had ended three years before I was born. I loved that goofy show. I’d daydream that I was the glamorous Ginger, or the quintessential girl next door, Mary Ann. In reality, I most identified with Gilligan. Awkward, a bit clumsy, never the first person picked for any sort of team endeavor, but wanting to be helpful. I was a pre-teen, only child, who was adopted. I knew my family loved me, but I always had an underlying feeling – real or imagined – that I didn’t quite fit into the family.
Grade school was also when I got the first glimpse of a behavior that has persisted to this day. In seventh grade I was devastated when the boy I was ‘going with’ broke up with me. That night, I snuck into the kitchen and took about a handful of aspirin. I don’t remember feeling like I wanted to die, I’m sure the motivation for the overdose was along the lines of, “I’ll be really sick and that’ll make him sorry.” Teenage drama. God. I blame William Shakespeare. If he’d never written Romeo and Juliet, maybe we wouldn’t all be enamored over the drama of being in love. Yeah, I didn’t say it was a good theory. The aspirin I took wasn’t a toxic dose, but I do remember feeling some side effects. Nothing warranting hospitalization, though, and soon forgotten.
Life went on. More television shows came and went. My penchant for identifying with the awkward, ‘fish out of water’ characters persisted. I didn’t get into another fandom until after I’d graduated from high school in 1989; gotten married in 1990; and become a mother in 1991.
I started making my first forays into the convention world via the Star Trek fandom at the same time I was beginning my journey into that dark place called depression. Having just had a baby, I was first treated for post-partum depression. When it showed no signs of disappearing, I was referred to a psychiatrist for further testing. One of the first things he recommended I do, was to find my birth family’s health records. He also started me on a popular anti-depressant.
I was a new wife and mother, dealing with the plethora of emotions surrounding finding my birth family, and navigating an illness I knew nothing about. Those who have a mental illness know the attitudes that surround the issue. “You’re just looking for attention”, or “You’re lazy”, or “You’re a hypochondriac”. And the most infuriating, “It’s not real, it’s all in your head.” Well, duh! It’s an illness affecting the brain, and where are our brains located? That’s right, in our head. My brain may not work quite the way it’s supposed to, but at least it gets used.
Fandom became my escape. I had friends and family that enjoyed a lot of the same shows I did, but they weren’t as interested as I was to meet the stars, get the behind the scenes stories, and collect the memorabilia. This was before the Internet took over the world, so my only way to connect with my fellow geeks was at conventions. Okay, okay, fandom became my pressure release valve, not my escape. You can’t live at a convention, though, and when money gets tight or life gets too busy, you can’t even attend a one day event. Bye-bye, pressure release.
Once again, I tried to swallow my feelings along with pills. Only this time was more serious. I took a lot more pills, and they were much stronger than aspirin. Important side note – drinking activated charcoal sludge is disgusting.
After the first suicide attempt, fandom took a backseat while I traversed the bewildering paths of changing diagnoses, changing medications, and exploring the inner workings of my mind. I was also travelling the more common thoroughfares of divorce and losing custody of my daughter because of my mental illness. I still enjoyed watching television. I still went to the occasional convention. But I didn’t immerse myself in another TV show until after I’d remarried and the Internet had become part of my daily life.
The show that ensnared me at this point was a complete departure from anything I’d previously enjoyed. A brand-new show in the category – are you ready for it? – reality TV. It was called The Bachelorette. I’ve thought a lot about why that show, at that particular time in my life, and here’s my answer: the show started in 2003. Our fairy-tale princess, Princess Diana, had died in 1997. America’s ‘prince’, the closest we’ve ever had to one anyway, John F. Kennedy Jr., had died in 1999. And 9/11 was still fresh in everyone’s mind. We were in a “War on Terror”, which was needed, but often seemed we were fighting shadows. I desperately needed an escape from reality. So, I turned to reality television. Ironic, don’t you think? Yes, I did just go there.
Surprisingly, it worked. That first season of The Bachelorette produced a true love story. Trista Rehn found her prince charming in a fire-fighter from Vail, Colorado: Ryan Sutter. I didn’t just watch the story unfold, I found a previously undiscovered side of fandom called the Message Board. For the first time, I was chatting with people that had the same level of interest in a show that I did, and it was wonderful. Then Trista’s mother started a Yahoo group and I somehow ended up helping her maintain and moderate the group. It felt like I was no longer an observer; I was a participant in the story, at least in a small way. When Trista gave the final rose to Ryan, our group made them some wedding gifts. If I remember correctly, there was a scrapbook of well-wishes where each person that wanted to, created their own page. There was also a recipe box filled with favorite recipes from our own kitchens. And it was fun! In fact, if anyone from the Tristafanshazam group happens to be reading, especially Roseanne, thank you. If Trista or Ryan happen to be reading, I was happy for you both in 2003, and I’m even happier for you now, thirteen years and about four months after your wedding. You have a lovely family, and are continuing to show that true love not only exists, but can be found anywhere.
Despite my rejuvenated joy due to fandom, depression was still a part of my life; mostly under control, but with occasional dark spots. I’d take medication for a while, start feeling better, and gradually stop taking them until the next time they were needed. In 2006-2007, I found a new show and a new layer of the fandom world.
The show was Doctor Who, and its spin-off, Torchwood. The new layer of fandom was fan-fiction. I’m sure a lot of you just laughed and shook your heads in disbelief. That’s okay. For a long time, I was embarrassed to admit I even knew what fan-fiction was, much less read or wrote stories. But not anymore. It’s a part of my life and not only did I enjoy it, I met some of the best friends I’ve ever had because of fanfic.
Inadvertently, Doctor Who also led me to another show. I have to backtrack a little here to explain. Many of the shows I’ve watched over the years, most of them sci-fi but not all, have had a particular actor in common. Not as a main character, but the type of character that catches your attention no matter what size the role. The characters he plays are often snarky, sarcastic, and wickedly funny. I’m referring, of course, to the talented Mr. Mark Sheppard. His appearance on Doctor Who led to him being a guest at a convention I attended. During his Q&A panel, he was asked several questions about another show that I’d heard of, but was resisting watching. Why? Pure stubbornness. One of my character flaws seems to be the more I’m told that I really “have to watch” something because “you’ll love it, I promise.” The more I dig my heels in about not watching. This quirk in my personality means that, not only have I never seen Titanic, I’m proud of that fact. The boat still sinks, correct? What else do I need to know? Back to the point. The show Mark was being asked about was one that I’d been told several times I should watch. Mark Sheppard talking about it was the proverbial straw that annihilated my resistance.
Mark’s appearance in Doctor Who aired in 2011, and the convention referred to was in 2012. Since the show in question had been on air since 2005, I had some serious catching up to do. Thank you, Netflix. By the time the eighth season of the show was halfway done, I was all caught up and had a new fandom I was ready to cannonball into. Words and phrases like “idjits”, “I lost my shoe.”, and “Pudding!” would make me laugh. Character names like Sam, Dean, Crowley, Ruby, Bobby, Chuck Shurley, and Castiel began to infiltrate my conversation – frequently. There were angels, demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and giant suicidal teddy bears that had to be fought and conquered. Know what it is yet?
Oh, come on, you’re reading an article about fandoms and you didn’t guess I was talking about Supernatural? Ahh, I see, you were teasing me. Ha, ha. So, you know that Supernatural inhabits its own special corner of fandom where it routinely pokes fun at itself while making you laugh so hard you cry, or cry so hard you laugh. Good. Jerk. It’s okay, you can call me bitch.
In addition to my new television love, I was working full time, and helping my daughter plan her wedding. Yes, I am old enough to have a daughter of marriageable age. Forty-six, remember? I can’t help it if I don’t look my age. Anyway, after the wedding – but not because of – I had a bit of a breakdown. Oh yeah, I was going for honesty here. Sorry, another character flaw I have is making light of emotions that are difficult for me to deal with. “Bit of a breakdown” should really say, “depression so bad there wasn’t just suicidal ideation, there was a full-fledged, thought out to the last detail, suicide plan.” Fortunately, a simple question from my primary care doctor made me dissolve into a puddle of tears in her office, and it all came tumbling out. I think the question was something on the lines of, “How are you doing today?” The end result was a leave of absence from work while I went through a partial hospitalization program on the psych ward of a nearby hospital.
Partial hospitalization meant I could go home at night, and on the weekends as long as I was never alone, but otherwise I spent my days in a locked ward, going through some very intense therapy. Not just individual therapy, either, there were group sessions that covered grief, Cognitive Behavior Therapy (CBT), exercise therapy, pet therapy, and nutrition. As I’m writing this, I’m seeing the schedule board in my mind and realize it’s time for pet therapy. The partial program also meant a new medication, and required ongoing counseling after I was discharged.
I was discharged in July of 2013, and returned to regular life, determined to practice my new found coping skills. It worked, for a few months anyway. Then the meds weren’t working as well, and depression became suicidal ideation, which became a full suicide plan. Because of all the therapy I’d been having recently, I had enough confidence to reach out to my counselor for an emergency session scheduled for the next business day, which was Monday. As it turns out, that wasn’t soon enough.
December 14, 2013, is when I, once again, followed a familiar pattern, taking entire bottles of medications. I should mention that certain other behaviors accompany my suicide attempts, such as spontaneous declarations of affection. I don’t leave notes; I don’t tell anyone after I’ve taken the pills; and I tend to hide the empty pill bottles. Another thing that’s common for me is the unshakable belief that everyone in my life will be better off without me. That I’m a burden, and it will be a relief to them. Feelings that I’m all alone, that I’m not good enough, that the only option I have is death.
I’ll skip recounting the stay in the hospital for the most part. I was on a general medical ward for a couple of days before being transferred to the psych ward. During those first two days, I was under a twenty-four-hour watch. A nurse had to stay in the room with me at all times, and watch while I was in the restroom, which also included measuring my fluid output. One of the medications I’d taken had the potential for serious kidney damage, so they were making sure everything was working. I won’t go in depth into the feelings I experienced on my first day in the closed section of the psych ward, where the bed was bolted to the floor, the window was bolted shut, and there was nothing else in the room. What’s most important is that I left the hospital with a new diagnosis – major depressive disorder, with an acute social anxiety disorder. I also left with a whole slew of new medications.
What about my new fandom, you ask? It was there. Keeping me entertained with weekly shows, behind the scenes interviews, convention videos, following the stars on Twitter, watching and re-watching episodes, and tentatively making connections with other fans online. With this immersion into the fandom, I started hearing about something called the “SPN Family”. I remember thinking it was a nice concept, but I didn’t put too much stock into the idea of a fandom being a family, even if the stars of the show used the term, as well. Then two things happened.
In March of 2015, Jared Padalecki (Sam Winchester on the show), did something that changed my life. He started a campaign called Always Keep Fighting. Shirts were sold that featured the slogan, with the money collected donated to several charities supporting mental health. Jared also talked about his own battle with depression. Fans of the show began sharing their stories about mental health issues. Facebook groups were created as virtual support groups, where we could go to not only get help, but help others. People were buying additional shirts to give to other fans that couldn’t afford their own. It was…awe inspiring. And it wasn’t a one-time phenomenon. Jared kept the campaign going with different shirts and messages. Jared’s co-stars, Jensen Ackles (Dean Winchester), and Misha Collins (Castiel) also supported the campaign. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced in a fandom.
The second thing that happened was, in August of that same year, I attended my first Supernatural convention in Vancouver, BC, where the show is filmed. I’d attended conventions before, even fandom-specific conventions for Doctor Who and Star Trek. In fact, the first convention I’d ever attended was a Star Trek one put on by Creation Entertainment, the same group that does the Supernatural conventions. Needless to say, I thought I knew what a convention entailed. I was wrong. I found out that when the stars and fans of the show talk about the SPN Family, they actually mean family! Attendees were just as excited to see each other, as they were to see the stars of the show. It’s difficult to describe if you’ve never been to one, and I’m not going to try. The SPN Family is something that has to be experienced.
I’d packed my Always Keep Fighting (AKF) shirts, intending to wear one for the photo op my friend and I were getting with Jared and Jensen. At the last minute, I, well, I chickened out. I didn’t want to get a photo with bloodshot, watery eyes, mascara running down my cheeks, and snot running out of my nose from crying. If I’d have worn one of the shirts, I would have definitely cried. I’m actually crying right now as I write. I was glad my friend was with me, to help distract my attention from the fact that I was about to meet someone who had literally saved my life. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know the role he played in my personal struggle. He still doesn’t, but more on that later.
As you’ve probably guessed, I continued to struggle with depression and debilitating, at times, anxiety. That summer of 2015 was extremely difficult for me for a myriad of reasons. Even with the support of my husband, daughter, and new-found ‘family’, I’d once again reached a point where suicide felt like the only option left for me. I’d set out all the medications in the house, mine had reached about 6 or 7 by now since high blood pressure had been added into my various ailments. I’d also gotten out my husband’s medications for his heart, and his diabetes. My intention was to surf the Internet while taking every pill in front of me. There was no doubt that I would finally succeed in killing myself. Before I started to take the pills, a notification popped up on my computer saying that Jared had posted a new video to his Facebook page.
I don’t remember exactly what he said in the video, other than the recurring theme that I was worth fighting for, that I wasn’t alone, that I was loved, that I would be missed because I mattered. No, he wasn’t speaking directly to me, but every word he said spoke directly to my soul. I don’t remember putting the medications away. I don’t really remember curling up on my bed and crying myself to sleep. What I do remember was waking up with that tight skin feeling on my face from too many salty tears, and the headachy sore-throat feeling that only comes from prolonged sobbing.
No, I was not miraculously cured of my mental illnesses. I still get debilitating anxiety attacks, which are especially fun while in the middle of grocery shopping, just so you know. I still sometimes think about committing suicide. Jared Padalecki is not Jesus, despite the undeniable hair resemblance. He just inspires me, and many other people, to not give up, to keep fighting every day.
Just this last weekend, I was able to attend my second ever Supernatural convention, right here in the Seattle area. I was also able to get my photo taken with Jared, in which I am wearing one of the
AKF campaign t-shirts, I might add. I was able to hug him and tell him “thank you” for the AKF campaign. It wasn’t about meeting a celebrity, it was about spending a moment (those photo op lines move fast) with a good friend who unknowingly helped me through several bad days, and one incredibly awful day. I was proud of myself for making it through the photo op without crying.
The weekend was also about experiencing the love the SPN Family has for each other. There are three moments that encapsulate that love that stood out for me. First was Rachel Miner’s (Meg, incarnation two) panel on Friday, seeing her strength and obvious love for we fans, and our love for her, was special to witness. Second, was during the concert on Saturday night when Louden Swain performed their song “She Waits”, written by Rob Benedict (Chuck Shurley/God). Those that have ever been in the audience for a performance of that song will know why. The third instance was Sunday afternoon during Jared and Jensen’s panel. A person was having an anxiety attack when it was their turn to ask Jensen and Jared a question, and not only were Jared and Jensen kind and patient, everyone in that audience was, too. There was none of the laughter and jeers you might hear at other places, instead there was nothing but love and support offered, she was able to gather her composure, and ask her question. Having spent time over the weekend with this person, I know it was her first Supernatural convention, and I just wanted to say, welcome to the family.
So, what does all this mean? It means that there are important life lessons to be learned from being a part of the fandom life, and it doesn’t matter what fandom you choose. Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned over the years:
A loving family supports each other, and the community they live in is a part of the family, too.
You don’t have to be glamorous, happy-go-lucky, rich, or intelligent. You don’t have to be a leader. You just have to be you.
Don’t fear the unknown. It’s to be examined, understood, accepted. You may even find it quite…fascinating.
Love can be found anywhere, in any situation. You just have to be open to accepting it when it’s offered.
“Every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things, or make them unimportant.” Also, “I never met anyone who wasn’t important.”
Doctor Who has a lot of good lessons. These are two of my favorite. If you’d like to learn more, watch for yourself and pick your own favorites.
Family doesn’t end with blood, and they always have your back.
“Never apologize for being nerdy, because unnerdy people don’t apologize for being assholes.”
John Barrowman (Doctor Who, Torchwood, Arrow)
“I’m very wary of people that aren’t fans of something. I mean, it’s kind of weird not to freak out about cool things.”
Mark Sheppard (Doctor Who, Supernatural, Star Trek, Warehouse 13, Leverage – seriously, everything)
“Life itself is worth living for, if you’re not living the life that you want, you fight for that life.”
Jensen Ackles (Supernatural)
“Be kind to yourself so you can be happy enough to be kind to the world.”
Misha Collins (Supernatural)
“If I could say anything to people who might be dealing with depression, or anxiety, or suicidal thoughts, and keeping quiet about it, what I would say is – you’re not alone.”
“Always keep fighting.”
Jared Padalecki (Supernatural)
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255
Available 24 hours everyday
Charities supported by the Always Keep Fighting campaign:
To Write Love On Her Arms
The Wounded Warrior Project
A.I.R. Attitudes In Reverse - Student Suicide Prevention - Mental Health
The Pack Fund
Additional Mental Health Resources:
National Alliance on Mental Health - NAMI
National Institute of Mental Health - NIMH
Mental Health American - MHA
End the Stigma - ES
Stop Soldier Suicide - SSS