Supernatural is first and foremost a television show. Nothing else. People in offices of downtown Los Angeles thought the idea Eric Kripke had some years back worthy of investing money. The parts were cast, the crew assembled and so far five seasons have been shot and the sixth is already in preparation. It's just a TV show. Nothing else. Or is there more to it?
 
Now, some of you might think - ah, the resident shrink is asking stupid, unnecessary questions. Of course there is more to it, these questions are so superfluous. Why does she ask that at all? Well, I think it's kind of genetic. the moment you begin to immerse yourself in the human mind and soul, your genes alter (not really, of course, you microbiologists out there!) and you can't help it - questions just begin to build in your cortex.
 
As long as I remember I have always been inquisitive. Always wanted to know more. and I'm so grateful for that, as it made me curious about life, people and various things. It opened my mind to so many incredible experiences - and to some not so pleasant ones, but that's a part of the deal, I think.
 
As this summer hiatus is upon us, I have been thinking some more about this show and, as I have spent so much time over the past months writing for this site, bouncing ideas for articles around in my head, asked myself again (and in all likelihood for the umpteenth time) why I love this show so much. Why can't I just skip it and do other things that might be more sensible or meaningful?
 
Perhaps some of you have been wondering the same thing occasionally when reason would say: come on, falling again for a fictional character? Weeping again over an invented story?
 
I would like to invite you to share with us what Supernatural means to you and, to make it easier for you, I will begin with telling you some of my story.
 
I mentioned some of this in another article and, if you read that, it might feel redundant to you, so I ask your forgiveness for repeating myself.
 
Why can't I quit writing? This answer is simple: Because I can't. It's so much a part of me that I would have to forsake one important tool of my package of strategies of coping with life. And, having a mind constantly at work in one way or another, this has always been an integral part of my creativity, and as I am suffering a writer's blockade at present when it comes to the book I've been working on for some time now, writing for this marvellous site is one of my favourite passions. (Perhaps I should be grateful for that block, as I don't honestly know how to find time for all of it.).
 
Exploring the Winchester story and the psychology behind it, the mythological or metaphysical aspects of the show or the hilarious fun stuff in there is relaxing my mind. I wouldn't want to miss it for the world.
 
But - I would not be writing about Supernatural if it was only another television show. I have watched other shows before and loved them, too. I was a huge MacGyver fan growing up, I loved to watch Highlander or Buffy and Angel, and today the only other shows I follow are TrueBlood and Criminal Minds. I watch other stuff occasionally, but not on a regular basis. Not any of the mentioned shows ever evoked the need in me to write about it. Or to think more about it than you usually do, watching a TV show - you like the story, at times you drool over the eye candy, you get scared out of your wits or moved by a romantic scene, but that's about it.
 

With Supernatural it has always been different to me. Of course, I would be lying if I claimed that the handsome appearance of its leads did not appeal to me. It goes without saying that they do. Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles are two of the most handsome men I've ever seen on screen. But other shows have attractive leading men, too. So, this can't be the main reason to it, at least not for me.

When I got acquainted with Supernatural, back on that crucial night they showed the Pilot, I was going through a time that dug my mourning for my father up like from his grave. He had been dead a short while, but, looking back, I had not really mourned him, I think. There had been so much to do, my mother to take care of who was falling apart after his passing (though she never really showed it on the outside), and we were still trying to find some relatives who had died in the Balkan war (but never did).
 
I was in a strange state of mind. Trying to get a grip but also being open to emotions in a manner I had not expected. I missed my dad. Terribly. I think I still do, as we were so much alike. But - you get used to missing someone, and it gets easier with time, that's true. Yet, there are moments you can not fight it the way you normally do. That's when the pain returns and throws you into a pit of memories that sometimes love to claw at you like demons at night.
 
These two guys were in search for their father, embedded in a haunting and thrilling story of ghosts, demons, monsters and most of all inner conflicts so incredibly played out by the actors that I could have sworn they had already lived what they were going through on screen.
 
I was captivated by the story, but also because of what I saw there reflected in part my own emotional state. I was myself searching for my dad within my soul to make sure I would always feel his presence there and thereby not be entirely bereft of his kind and sweet nature. You should have seen him when children were around. He would joke and play and never grow weary of turning into a goof ball par excellence.
 
And I remembered one moment I had almost forgot - one day, as were had been travelling to visit my grandmother (his mother) and stopped on the road at a small sort-of diner where they sold roast lamb, fresh from the spit. We loved that, and my dad ordered huge amounts of lamb (he ate like a race horse, actually, I never knew where he put all that, as he was always lean, but he would eat enormous portions). This is one of my fondest memories of his: sitting there in the afternoon sun, his fingers all greasy from the lamb and the happiest of smiles in his eyes.
 
Strangely enough (I really have no idea, why) that picture emerged from my subconscious the moment Sam bit into that cookie Jessica had left for him, shortly before he saw her on the ceiling.
 
Also, Supernatural reminded me of the issues I had with my mother. We loved each other dearly, but were also able to fight like wild animals, making no prisoners sometimes. The relationship Sam had with his father often reminded me of the one my mom and I had. And watching the first season I changed my way of looking at her once more and tried to understand her better. I decided we had to resolve all the issues that had built up over the years, some I had a part in it, some were entirely hers, but I wanted us to start anew.
 

Then she got cancer. And a stroke. It fell to me to take care of her, and I got what I wanted - to start anew. in reversed roles. She was the kid, I was the mother. She was helpless, quiet, still hopeful and strong, as she had ever been (and in this dimension my mom and I were very much alike), but I knew she would not last long, and she didn't.
 
Taking care of her had helped me to get most of our issues solved and we both were able forgive one another whatever we might have done to offend or hurt. I was given the opportunity to prove to her that I loved her, and she went into the great mystery knowing that she had a loving daughter. I will be for ever grateful for that.
 
But with her gone, I remain the rest of my gene pool. That's a strange sensation altogether. Sometimes I still am not capable of really understanding its whole dimension. Perhaps because I never planned it that way.
 
By the time my parents died, I wanted to have a family of my own. Hm, that hadn't worked out so well, as loss had been a constant factor in my life for many years back, beginning, I guess, at twenty-three when I almost got killed in the wrong place at the wrong time. Apart from almost losing my life, I lost my singing voice due to an injury I sustained that night and the plans I had for my professional life were turned upside down. Some of its quality returned over the years, but not enough to make a living on it. Eventually, I have learned to be somewhat grateful for that, as I might not have become a therapist, had I continued a career on stage as I had begun. And - as I have also learned - being a clinical therapist is really my calling. This is where my best talent lies.
 
Loss, as we know, is one of the major themes in Supernatural. Although I have to say that I was given the wonderful gift of a family of friends who will always be there, not matter what, just it's the case with the ‘real' brothers Sam and Dean, there have been moments I felt crushed under the weight of sadness I sometimes felt.
 
Then I relied on this show, in those moments I didn't want to burden my friends - again - with pain or tears. Supernatural reminded me - and keeps reminding me so often - of my own strength when I tend to forget it. My beloved friends do so, too, with gestures more loving than I have words to describe. At times, though, I need something else. a tale of brothers that challenges my mind, distracts me, makes me laugh tears or scares the living daylights out of me.
 
Usually I use books and especially poetry to take my mind off things or sports, when I don't want to bother my friends, but, as some of you might know, it does not always work. The words on the pages sometimes are not strong enough to keep your mind from wandering off and running through a quiet forest does not necessarily distract you. With a strong movie or TV show it's easier. With Supernatural it has been easier.
 
Now and then the show inspires me to think of my courage, particularly in periods when I am so overwhelmed with various things or too much work that I forget about it. I have not been to hell, like Dean has. I have not been led astray by a lying demon like Sam or forced to sacrifice my life for my loved one, so that puts reality in a sometimes better perspective.
 
So, I owe the creators of this show and the terrific actors who bring it all to life a lot more than I was expecting at all. On occasion I felt like Supernatural somehow saved my life - in terms of reminding me that I was capable of saving myself from tears or hopelessness.
 
But most of all it brought a huge amount of fun to my life - watching the show, finding this site and writing about it, meeting some fans who turned out to be some of the nicest people, attending a convention and meeting the actors, getting inspired to read about topics I had not been familiar with in detail while doing research for articles, etc. etc.
 
One far day, when I'll be lumbering towards antiquity, I might still be watching this show, should there be DVDs still, remembering the joy I had following Supernatural. I will find a way to transfer the episodes to whatever new technology that shall be en vogue then and tell my grandkids the story of two brothers. Because its themes are universal and timeless, rich in emotion, inspiring and uplifting. They might think of me as the ‘crazy old broad' then, but I will not care. And then, after having been captivated by the first episodes, they will keep asking me to borrow them all seasons. And - isn't that a sweet and beautiful thought?
 
Kind readers. you are invited to share your personal connection to this show. and you know, if you have been visiting this site, that we will treat any of your experiences you want to share with the utmost respect and tolerance.
 
Thank you.