I'm thinking about buying a black veil. How very Madama Vastra of me.
Being a Fangirl is a thankless job. We support our beloved characters and the writers that created them, putting them up on pedestals. We find ways to defend bad episodes or books or movies. We engineer arguments that validate actions out of character when writers just miss the mark, because we obviously know these characters better than their creators-- Why else do you think Fanfiction exists? We buy merch, pre-order tickets and books, and construct meticulously accurate costumes to wear to overpriced conventions where meeting the actor that plays your favorite character shatters your world at their level of douchebaggery. I'm talking about you, Bruce Campbell. And, we completely lose touch with reality. We can't ever accept it's just a show, a book, a movie, etc, because some part of us is weak, and craves the satisfaction we receive from our chosen fandom. For some girls, it is romance. Actually, for most girls that is the case, I'm sure. For that, I blame the way girls are conditioned by society, but that is a whole other argument, and I am getting sidetracked. For some girls, it is escape, and in that way they are also kind of falling in love with the idea that this life can substitute the terrible one they are currently living. Then, there are the mental cases like me-- I like to use the words creative, but hey, whatever, everyone knows we creative types all have alcohol and mental disorders. That's what fuels our art. But, for girls like me, it is not that my life is terrible. It's that it's just not enough. The limitations of this life, or of this universe, are stifling. I have an over-inflated sense of importance and purpose, and the only way I can live out my dreams of accomplishing impossible, super hero, mad genius, worship worthy endeavors is to live vicariously through science fiction. For the record, I am the worst type... in case you were wondering.
It doesn't matter what type of Fangirl you are, or what kind of deprived satisfaction you receive from your fandom, you need it for a reason. It fills a void, no matter how stupid or silly it is. For all my constant and delusional detachment from realty, my fandoms are probably the only thing that keeps me out of an institution, because once I fill the vacant well of my uncalled chosen one depression with a good episode, or a new book, or an excellent fanfiction, I can do normal, mundane human things like hold a job or operate a moving vehicle. Trust me, you think I am bad now, this is the best of a potential bad scenario people.
The one variable that balances the entire Fangirl equation is consistency. As long as we know that all is right in our fictional universe, we are at peace. We can function fine, even in periods of hiatus between releases or seasons. Unfortunately, I know as a writer that the problem with fiction is that consistency is boring, and a good story needs chaos an upheaval to remain compelling-- to remain the reason we choose it to live vicarious through it. That is why I hate fanfiction authors who write stories just to marry character or have kids-- that shit is so fucking pedestrian! I can do that in real life! If I was capable of functioning in the real world, would I need write fanfiction about Dean Winchester--emotionally misunderstood bad ass with freckles-- to get me through from week to week? Would I have learned the word fernweh just so that I could properly describe the emotion of being homesick for the planet Gallifrey, a place that does not actually exist (or, might just be trapped in a bubble universe-- jury is still out) or that I have never been? Fuck no! As long as we know our favorite character-- the one we relate to, admire, dress like, change our slang and speech to emulate-- or our fandom is coming back, that is what keeps us in balance.
The problem with living off the fumes of someone else's creativity is that that no matter how much we love, need, worship our chosen fandom, the outcome is completely out of our hands. We did not make it. It is not our brainchild. And, because fiction needs upheaval to have compelling plot, characters die. Sometimes it is just to keep the plot riveting, and sometimes it is because actors leave. Sometimes it is not the death of a character, but the cancellation of a show or the disappointing release of a book or movie dooming it to end. Regardless of the end result, the fact remains that you can't do anything to stop it.
Fangirl grief is differently ordered in its experience than regular, normal, emotionally stable, sane person grief, but the stages are the same.
Stage One: Anger
Normally, the first stage of grief is grief. You're just inconsolable. You are miserable, and you isolate yourself. But, in fandom, it's different. It is personal, even though it really isn't. But, feels personal. It feels like you're dying. Then you throw the book across the room or the remote through a window.You blame the writer or the production company or the actor. Then you hate them. Then you curse them with the fury of a thousand burning suns that they will never work again after creating this abortion of fiction! This is also any intelligent fangirl's assessment of a Twilight book. Twilight fangirls are a whole other level of fucked, and we do not include them in regular fangirl community. But, I digress, you're just in a rage fueled passion that cannot be sated because it is out of your hands, and you must find some way to seek revenge. Some do this by abandoning the fandom, or maybe just taking a break. Long story sort, some shit it probably gonna get broke.
Stage Two: Denial
Ahh, Fanfiction, the slut of fandom. She makes you feel good. Tells you what you want to hear. Makes your dreams come true. But, in the end, you know none of it really counts. Fanfiction can keep a fandom or a character alive after death. It is what Fangirls are relgated too to find any way of keeping that vicarious outlet going, and feeding that satisfaction until they can properly mourn, and move on, hopefully finding a replacement character or fandom. When anger is still fresh, Denial and Anger can blend into reading or writing fiction that completely corrects the problem, resulting in new head cannon-- or, what you think should have happened, erasing the terrible tragedy (because, once again, we fangirls know so much better than the creators), by ignoring it ever happened and continuing to operate like nothing has changed.
Sometimes denial comes in the form of spoilers. Fangirls don't always find out about the tragedy of cancellation or character death in the moment. Occasionally, we'll just be on Pintrest updating our nerdly boards with pictures of our characters and memes with inside show jokes, when we see "Going to miss you, so and so". WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK! NO! NO! <hyperventilation> NO! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING! We deny like a motherfucker, telling ourselves it is not true, until we find proof that it is not all a hoax. We immediately launch a full frontal search assault on Google to get to the bottom of this, which more than likely will tell us what we loathe to hear: the truth.
Stage Three: Bargaining
You know what will fix this? A PETITION! Let's all get online and start a petition that we will send to the write's agent or the production company. We can protest too! Just, fix this okay. Don't take this away from us! YOU CAN'T TAKE THIS AWAY FROM US!
Stage Four: Depression
Pajamas for days, unchanged. A full body blanket cocoon. Junk food, after starving yourself of course, because you would rather kind of die at this point. Hysterics and tears ensue. This could be temporary, if the Fangirl has several fandoms which she can focus on and take comfort in, but until she finds a replacement fandom or character, this could be her life now. What does she have to live for at this point? If it was her primary fandom, this could be a long period of turmoil, during which people in her life are just going to have to accept that yes, she is going to keep being this fucking ridiculous over a television show. Keep making fun of her, that will help. Good idea. She probably already felt very accepted and safe and confident, which is in no way is the reason she had to turn to a fictional creation to find life satisfaction.
Stage Five: Acceptance
While the scar will never fully heal, and can be ripped open with ease at any future point, she will muster the strength to move on. Her mourning period will end, and she will find a new outlet. She will eventually be able to re-read books or re-watch old episodes and movies. She will pine for the good old days, and it will be nostalgic. The point is that, for whatever reason, she needed this thing in her life at this very point in her life. It got her through. It gave her comfort, or confidence, or emotional fulfillment. She will always look back on her fandom and remember what she was going through then-- relationship trouble, depression, trouble with a job, financial hardship, maybe all of the above. People don't disappear into fiction because their lives are perfect. But, fiction might the the thing that kept them from hurting themselves or from giving up or from having a complete mental collapse.
I will always remember when you were the Doctor. Thank you for showing me that even a square peg in a round hole like me is capable of being brilliant, courageous, strong, important, and beloved, is capable of being the Doctor.
