👋 Hiyayaya Companions,
I think we’re officially into the autumn season. London has turned cool and wet—splish splash with our wellies, big warm blankets, and pumpkin spice lattes. It’s perfect weather for a comfy rewatch, which is exactly where today’s story goes.
Ellie’s story from our final chapter, Fandom Saves Lives, is one of the most vivid descriptions of anxiety I’ve read, and one of the most hopeful. If you’ve ever put on a comfort show just to make it through the day, you’ll recognize yourself in this one.
New to The Companion?
Here’s the latest book update:
- Read Amanda’s introduction to the book
- Catch up on Moon’s story from Chapter 3: Courage
- The book includes a small handful of interactive features like last week’s GISH-inspired creator challenge
- If you’d like to stay up-to-date with the book, here’s our public To-Do list
- Sign up to our free newsletter to get more of these stories in your inbox.
And if you can do me a favor, please share this newsletter with a friend who might be interested.
Today’s Featured Story from Purpose
I want you to imagine the Himalayas. Deep into the mountains, somewhere near K2, where humans have barely explored and cannot survive. An ocean of white peaks as far as the eye can see.
Now imagine you’re standing at the bottom in the valley, looking up at this monster of a mountain knowing that you must climb it, and knowing that even if you scale it, there are dozens—no, a hundred—more like it endlessly stretched out in front of you.
That’s how my anxiety feels when it’s “up.”
Like even if I make it through this day, and I know I will, there will still be a hundred hard days starting tomorrow. The struggle will begin anew, I’ll be back down in the valley, and there will be another mountain just as high and treacherous as the one I just climbed.
Brains are funny things, and I have spent the last 10 years learning about the science behind my anxiety: the amygdala, cortisol levels, all of it. But when I’m looking up at that field of mountains on a bad day, it’s nearly impossible to rationalise the dread as just a simple chemical reaction.
Logic doesn’t work when your brain decides to have a bad day.
On those bad days, when my science facts aren’t enough to calm me down, science fiction and my favourite TV shows provide the most immediately and easily accessible comfort. A rewatch of Lost in Space; the first 30 minutes of 1x03 of Good Omens (IYKYK); a binge of some tea-and-crumpets BBC drama. Something safe, and known, and fun, that won't add too much emotional stimulation to my already-overburdened brain.
My favourite shows are accompanied by positive memories of watching them the first time:
Binging Stargate DVDs in high school and rushing to the forums to discuss the episode.
Marathoning Battlestar Galactica with friends in preparation for a convention weekend.
Listening to the Sanctuary podcast commentaries and crying with laughter.
Surviving Melbourne lockdowns by watching Farscape for the first time (better late than never).
Feelings of security and happiness are forever linked to the fictional characters on screen, and oftentimes to the people who play them. The simple act of watching my favourite shows can be enough to pull me out of an impending spiral. It's pure therapeutic escapism, made all the more fun because I can share my feelings with a community of fans who accurately and emphatically describe my exact emotions with one well-placed asafhdjouyagjgahg.
Fandom gets it, and the intrinsic shorthand that comes from going through something so personal yet so universal can make the mountain peak just a little less tall and a fraction more scalable.
I still have to climb it alone, but at least there's a cheer squad at the top telling me, "You got this. We're here and we're waiting for you when you make it up."
Some of my nearest and most enduring "real life" friendships started as "fandom friends," and I am part of a beautiful global network of my favourite people. They understand how the extreme excitement of a convention, a play, or even just a new episode can so easily tip from a positive feeling of joy to an overwhelming feeling of TOO MUCH.
This happened to me in 2015 in rural Pennsylvania. Two friends and I, all from different countries, met in person for the first time to see Mary McDonnell as Madame Lyubov in a production of The Cherry Orchard. Travelling from Australia, I went into the trip in a fragile mental state with my anxiety at the highest levels of my life. The thrill of seeing a favourite artist on stage very nearly caused a full-blown panic attack.
My wires of excitement and fear were about to cross and my friends instinctively saw it coming. They took me to a quiet corner, they breathed deeply with me, and we took a brief moment to regroup, recentre, recalibrate.
They gently held my shoulders, so I could focus on my mind.
We ended up seeing the play three times that week and even met Mary at the stage door. It remains one of my most treasured memories, and is a testament to the kindness of fandom, even if we’re near strangers.
Those gals and I have remained best friends since, and that experience taught me that two things can be true: I can feel unwell, fearful, and overwhelmed when facing those mountain peaks, and yet still find moments of unbridled bliss knowing there’s a cheer squad waiting at the summit.
As Carrie Fisher said, "Stay afraid, but do it anyway."
Ellie, Australia
📘 Hardback and Paperback, Strictly limited
The Collector’s Edition was always limited to 500. About 100 copies are left, and once they’re gone, they will be gone forever.
So many of you ordered the Paperback Edition that our system briefly sold out as the shop couldn’t keep up. It’s fixed and orders are open again until the cutoff between Thanksgiving and December (exact date to come).
And finally, all of our pins and keychains are back. Add a few to your book order, or get the whole set. They’ll ship in the same parcel as your book in January 2027.
Already ordered a book but want to add some pins?
Make the purchase, email me at lawrence.kao@thecompanion.app and I’ll refund the shipping and pack them in with your book.
Just want pins?
Order them now, and I’ll ship them right away.
Have a great weekend,
Lawrence
