Thoughts On Doom Patrol Ending
Doom Patrol TV 2019 is the sole reason I remain alive in the universe, and I was going to start off this post with something like, oh, it might be cliche to say this, it might be so trite, so overdone, as if finding something so cathartic it makes you want to live again is something shameful or Wrong or Bad, but oh, this show saved my life! Please don't think I'm weird!
I have to say: fuck that. Doom Patrol says fuck that. I love this show and it's embedded into my essence and it gave me enough purpose to get back on my feet, shocked my heart into beating long enough for me to find beauty & a reason to live in other aspects of the world. I love this show and this show has been nesting within my neurons for about four and a half years now, and I don't think I've fully been able to grasp the fact that it's ending soon.
This show was and is everything to me. I mean that in the most literal sense you can imagine. When I found Doom Patrol, I had recently began to suspect I had DID from severe trauma, I was in an extremely toxic relationship, and I was, like always, deeply, unbearably depressed. It stayed with me through my diagnosis, through a grandparent dying of COVID-19 and brought me comfort during the pandemic. It stayed with me during visits to the psychiatric hospital, and through break-ups, but it also bubbles inside of me during the good moments, too. Doom Patrol stirs within me when I feel the acceptance my family gives me; I hear Larry and Maura’s voice in their words. I am so lucky to have them. Doom Patrol stirs within me when I think about family, and the close friends I have chosen as family; the strength of our bond unbreakable, even if the possibility exists that we’re “doomed”.
This show has taught me landfills of lessons. I think about this: Very few people are heroes in the traditional sense of the term. Some people are heroes only in the sense that they must constantly fight the evil clawing inside of their stomachs, trying to break free from composure. Some people would be heroes if they could stop fucking up so bad all the goddamn time. Some people could be heroes if they believed in themselves but they will never have that kind of confidence. Some people simply aren’t hero material, apathetic to bravery and risk and mortality, and sometimes those people are the ones forced to be heroic.
I think about this: I had to carry my family on my back when I was the scorpion. Not even the frog - just a defenseless thing incapable of staying above water. I was forced into that role, despite the fact that I was the scorpion, with only violence in my nature — I had to be the hero, not the adults, because they were still busy trying to put together puzzle pieces that had decimated to little cardboard scraps long ago. I had to be the hero, and I ruined everything I touched.
Fast forward a little bit, and I’m an adult who still ruins everything he touches. I can’t take the bandages off, or everyone here will die! I can’t take this shell off -- this vision-false, deceptive aura I shroud myself in, reserved and obedient -- or everyone here will be blinded, mutilated by the truth of me! It always happens, eventually. I guess the one place where Larry and I differ is strength; I could never control myself like he does. I always succumb in the end.
But the show still runs parallel to my life, regardless of whether or not I’m suffering. Youth Patrol met me during a transitional period, flashes of time where I began to separate from my wilted past and manifest into something new. Sometimes, the show tells me, you have to go back if you ever want to move forwards. Jane Patrol helped heal me during difficult discussions with my therapist; I thought of Jane screaming I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU, and, by the hand of a miracle, I was no longer afraid.
I still can’t parse it quite right: the show will be over in three weeks, and after that, there will never be another episode of this show - this show with such crucial importance to me - ever again. I will never stay up another night, eagerly counting down the hours to its 3:00 AM EST release on Max, the insomnia from staying up all night always jarring, but I get to see Larry and Jane again, so sleep doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters!
I’ll never see them again. It’s going to be over. Everything has to end, eventually. Even the immortal, even something that will have an immortal presence in me. It’s all going to end. It’s leaving me.
Doom Patrol has merged with me like a Negative Spirit, and now my soul is entangled with the heart of it. I don’t know how to tenderly stroke its cheek, embrace it, and let it leave me. I don’t know how to be on my own, without another upcoming season. I know that its absence will rupture part of my soul, and I’m really, really scared.
And yes, I know that my attachment to this show is perhaps “unhealthy”. But Doom Patrol is the show that made me feel seen by the world, like I still had a voice, like I still had strength, despite all the pain I’ve endured. Doom Patrol said maybe you’re the scorpion, but you are capable of so much more than simply stinging. You can choose your nature, even if someone else tries to choose it for you. Your life should be in your hands. Doom Patrol said the weird is inherently beautiful. The abstract should be celebrated. There’s nothing wrong with who you are, and you are never a monster.