Ginny and Georgia is a sitcom that can be found on Netflix. It is a 2 season show at the moment, with a 3rd season to be released soon. I watched it last September as a way to drown out my chaotic life. It worked until I was done watching it very soon…
Personally, I have a hard time watching tv, especially shows like this because I normally don’t like the drama, or I think the whole high school thing is very immature for me (since I’m 29). However, it was quite interesting and very adrenaline pumping. While some of the scenes with the highschoolers were a little immature and dramatic, the scenes with Georgia were more intriguing because she is quite the character. All in all, a fabulous show with many intriguing characters, that all add up to never a dull moment. Which is good, because you never want a dull moment when you’re watching tv. Otherwise, you’ll be bored!
Anyways, the point of this droned on blog is to share how incredible and SPOT-ON the character, Marcus, is… He is kind of an *sshole, but as he slowly shows up more and more, he gets more and more vulnerable. We – the viewers – get to see a side of him that nobody else gets to see. We get to see as he goes from a “normal angsty” teen to a majorly depressed one… And then we find out why: his best friend died (1 year ago, in the show). He has been living for 1 whole year without his best friend, because he died from cancer.
Life is a real b*tch sometimes.
This is one of his monologues from the series. If ever you’re struggling to decipher what you’re feeling, this may just be it.
Marcus’ monologue from Ginny & Georgia season 2, episode 8:
“Some feelings are like old, familiar friends. Depression is like that for me.
When the episode starts, it can be slow at first. An intrusive thought: “I don’t want to be here,” but then it’s gone.
You bat it away like a fly or a bad smell. When it hits you fully though, when you’re really in it, it’s everything. It’s who you are, you’re nothing else.
On the outside, you look the same; smiling and pretending is so much work, but inside, it’s a different story. You start to hate yourself. You’re so alone, so unbelievably alone.
And you can be with someone you love, but you’re not really with them.
We think we know what’s going on with other people, but we don’t.
Everyone’s fighting a battle you can’t see. We all have blind spots.
And you know it’s you. You know there is something wrong with you, and it’s exhausting. So g-ddmn shtty and exhausting, and it’s helpless.
It’s a void, and existing takes so much energy, you wanna sink into a hole of nothing where no one talks to you and you don’t have to smile or talk or be.
I’ve been here before, gotten out of it before, but the getting out part becomes the room that you remember but aren’t in. And that’s what’s scary…
…Being back in the room where depression lives, it’s a sharp pain and an overwhelming numbness. I love her. Even in the room, I love her. But being loved takes work too. I don’t have it in me to be loved right now.”
What makes Marcus so real is the realness of his actions – and the realness of his thoughts on how he is feeling. Because, as he is feeling these things as mentioned above, he really is just balancing at the edge of coming off as a normal teenager… He’s drinking, hanging out with friends, and acting as if everything is “normal” in an “emo” sort of way. Because he is portrayed as a sad, tortured sort of boy right from the beginning… Which could just be that normal teenage angst.
But as I said before, then we are shown that he is suffering from grief and depression. And then those drunken moments become more clear as to why he feels the need to get drunk on a Sunday or randomly drinking out of a flask at school… And the saddest part – and again, most real – is that nobody really notices. They call him crazy and can’t understand why he is being this way.
IT ALL STARTED AFTER HIS BEST FRIEND DIED… THE JOYS OF GRIEF.
I have known depression since I was 18 years old. It started after I was sexually assaulted on the night of Halloween.
The depression stemmed from this trauma, but after I healed, it lingered… Perhaps because I waited 5 years to heal… Perhaps because at that point I was so damaged emotionally, spiritually and mentally, due to many different things in my life that staggered on top of Halloween night.
The point is, I’ve known depression for over 10 years, and the only time it went away was when I opened myself up to Jesus Christ and surrendered my life to Him… BUT THEN, the day came when I had to put my beloved baby girl (cat) down. Her name’s Sunshine, and she was exactly that – the sunshine to my dimly, gloomy lit life. She meant so much to me; she was my best friend; she held a half of my heart. And when she was gone, I died inside. Wuite literally, I physically felt my heart break. To this day (it has only been 3 months) – though less frequently now – I get moments where I can’t breathe, my chest hurts, and I feel like I’m dying.. And in those moments I feel like I’m losing her all over again.
THIS type of depression I have never felt before… And oh boy, does it hurt. I would wish it upon NOBODY. Truly. It is the most painful type of depression one could ever feel… And I don’t know how people do it without Jesus.
I have been so angry at God since that day… Maybe not since that day. For maybe 2-4 weeks after, I wasn’t mad at Him. I thanked Him daily for the time I had with Sunshine; I tried to live in faith and gratitude. But then one day it all changed. Perhaps after the shock subsided and the reality started to kick in. My emotions turned upside down – I was angry, in denial, and filled with so much guilt.
I’m not going to lie to you, I still am filled with that guilt and I still am angry. And I’m not sure when these feelings are going to leave. But at least for now, I’m going to acknowledge that they’re there and try to accept them and slowly work through them… But only once I decide to stop ignoring and numbing my feelings. (I’ll get there soon).
And these feelings bring me to this point:
I have never known depression like GRIEF filled depression. It’s truly a completely different thing. It’s a completely different form of depression, in that, there really is no “cure” or nothing really that can help except perhaps: time, compassion (from others and yourself), validation that you are not crazy or dramatic or absurd, and acceptance that nothing will ever be the same again.
Death feels like black hole. When you lose someone close to you, death brings thoughts of abandonment, and thoughts of fear and confusion… EVEN IF you have Jesus.
Though I know Jesus Christ, and though I know that my baby girl (cat) is in Heaven, it still hurts. And that’s okay. Jesus never asks us to get over it. Jesus never asks for anything from us, especially in situations like this. In His own grief, HE WEPT. Even though He knew what was to come next (the raising of Lazarus from the dead), He wept over the fact that Lazarus was dead. Even though He was going to be alive momentarily!
How wild is it to think that even Jesus Christ grieved with his loved ones over the death of this man.
Thus, we are not crazy. We are not overreacting. We are only doing what we can… Which is to weep, to grieve, to be depressed and downcast. For we have lost someone close to us. And they have taken a piece of ourselves with them.
I mean, think about it: how would you expect someone to feel if they only have half of their heart? Truly. Think about it. And then mirror that compassion towards yourself.
Your heart has been torn to pieces. Your lungs have been gasping for air. Your body has been through emotion and physical despair.
You need time.
You’ll get there.
We’ll get there.
Know that I am in the same place as you. Just getting by.
I don’t even want to say anything positive or motivational, because I don’t want to hear it myself. So I will leave you with this:
I leave you with space. Allow yourself to do what you will with that space. And perhaps, when you’re ready, allow Jesus into that space.
I’ll get there one day. I already, slowly, am… So I know you will too.
Hey, and don’t be so hard on yourself. Give yourself permission to feel – and to let out those feelings when they arise. Nothing ends well when grief is being pushed down and trapped in one’s body. Let it out. Let yourself feel.
You are seen.
You are validated.
It’s okay to not be okay.