I have been watching this show since inception.
After my husband had his heart attacks, he couldn’t watch it anymore… too much close to home.
After my husband got sick, I kept watching it.
And then my husband died.
And then they killed off Mark Sloan – an entire episode of watching a major character die. And then another episode of the lead up to it. And they turned off the machines, withdrew life support and watched him die… exactly the way my husband died.
And I kept watching. Because they wouldn’t do that again, would they?
And then Derek died. Meredith had to decide to turn off the machines.
Fuck, again? Another major character. Dead. The same way my husband died. Hooked up to life support, care withdrawn.
So for the last 3 or 4 weeks, I’ve been watching the ENTIRE series. All of it. Including Mark Sloans death. And Derek’s death.
You have to ask.. why watch a show that brings up so much pain? Why watch something that causes me to relive those moments?
Why hurt myself that much?
Because I need to feel.
Because every time I watch a character I love die…. I’m reminded that it’s ok to feel.
It’s a form of therapy.
I’ve had one other revalation lately.
I want a Derek. *jump to 1:39 for the part of the scene that I’m talking about*
I want to be loved enough (again) that being together – finding a way to be together despite differences and arguments and stresses – being willing to WORK on those things because the love is more important than holding onto a grudge or a hurt or a mistake or 10.
And I keep watching Grey’s Anatomy, because despite the fact that it is a fictional show with fictional characters, that kind of love exists. I lived with it for 14 years. And I know I can have it again.
And I still torture myself by watching Grey’s Anatomy. Because watching Grey’s means that I can’t hide from the grief. I can’t pretend it doesn’t still exist. I can’t ignore that a part of me is still missing, will forever be missing even when I find my Derek again.