BREAKING into Pieces

Jared sat on his cot, staring past the two empty beer bottles at the weather outside. The late afternoon looked as gray, dreary, and miserable as he felt. It had rained all morning, and the crew wrapped up filming for the day a few hours early. Now the long, boring weekend stretched out before him like congealed molasses.

The famous actor got up and stretched, sensing a foreboding cloud settling over him. He recognized the feeling that tried to invade his mind every so often, which had grown more frequent since he left home at seventeen. He usually kept it at bay by concentrating on his lines or hanging out with friends on set, but today a sense of gloom hung over the whole place and seemed to work its way deeper into his conscience.

It sucked being sensitive. And scared. And insecure, and all the other debilitating sensations that came with it. Jared would have to manage, hoping it would pass or at least retreat to his subconscious where it was easier to ignore. Why couldn't he be like Jensen or Misha, who seemed to prance through life on the sunny side?

Anyway, it was what it was and this, too, would pass. He just needed to distract himself. The rain had gotten heavier, with no sign of letting up anytime soon.

Jared grabbed a hoody and held it over his head while sprinting across the square toward Jensen's trailer. He knocked briefly and was just about to enter when he heard Jensen hiss.

"What?!"

Stunned, Jared hesitated, deciding to wait instead of walking in as usual. But a second later, a thunderclap exploded above him and he threw the door open, bumping into Jensen, who took two steps back or they would have crashed into each other. He looked annoyed.

"What?" he asked again. It sounded like a growl.

"Hey. Um, mind if I come over?"

"Since when do you ask?"

"Hey, if this a bad time, I can come back later..."

"Whatever. I'm kind of busy. Make yourself at home. Beer?"

Jensen threw a can in Jared's direction and sat in front of an open laptop, turning his back on his friend. Jared perched on the edge of the bed and popped open the can. He tried small talk.

"Shitty weather, huh?"

Jensen shrugged.

"Anything going on later? Or tomorrow maybe?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Go over to the rec, someone must be throwing a ball around or something. I'm not doing anything."

Jared grabbed a figurine off a side table and started fiddling with it.

"Hey, put that down, dammit! How would you like it if I waltzed into your room and rummaged through your stuff?"

Jared flinched. "Jeez. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning? I was just mindlessly holding it to give my hands something to do." He put the thing back and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Well, put it down. It's not yours."

"What the hell does it matter? It's not like I'm taking it, you jerk."

They sat in silence for a minute. The room suddenly felt colder.

"I didn't come over here to get yelled at, you know. I just wanted to hang out."

"And I'm busy. I don't want to be bothered right now, okay."

Jared tried to sound extra upset so Jensen would worry and ask what was wrong. "I really feel like shit today."

"Yeah? How come? Isn't life usually just peachy for you?"

"What do you know about my life?"

No answer.

"So I bother you now?"

Nothing.

Jared got up. "Okay, I get it. I'll leave. Sorry for imposing on you."

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

Jensen had no idea why he was so mean to his best friend. He was just in a super bad mood and didn't want to snap out of it just yet. He almost enjoyed making him suffer.

"Really?! What the hell did I ever do to you?" Jared barely suppressed a sob.

"You're getting on my nerves, that's what. You're always around. There, I said it. You wanted to know."

Jared felt his blood turn to ice from shock and hurt. He rushed to the door, but before he left, he turned around and looked at Jensen with tears running down his face.

"You know, I really needed a friend tonight. I am falling apart inside, but I won't bother you with it, don't worry." And with that, he ran out and slammed the door behind him.

Part 2

On his way back to his trailer, he almost collided with Jim, AKA Bobby Singer in their series, Supernatural. Jim was startled when he saw Jared's tear-stained face.

"Hey, you all right?"

But Jared ran past him without acknowledging the older man, whom he adored and often sought out for advice. Jim shook his head and approached Jensen's trailer, knocking twice until he heard him shout to come in, dammit.

Jensen didn't bother to turn around. "Forget something?"

"G'evening. Everything okay with you boys?"

"Oh, it's you. I should just install a revolving door around here."

"Bad mood?"

"Yup. And enjoying it insanely. Just one of those days."

Jim nodded. "Yeah, the weather ain't helpin'. So what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Jared looked mighty upset when I saw him coming out of your place. You two fightin'?"

Jensen spun his chair around, looking annoyed. "Bit of a stretch to call it a fight. I just didn't want to be bothered right now, that's all. Not my fault he takes it personally."

Jim happened to look out the window when he saw Jared leave his trailer and hightail it down the lane that led out of the park the cast was staying in during filming.

"Did he say where he was going?"

"Nope, we didn't get to that part. Why?"

"Well, wherever it is, he sure's going there in a hurry."

"Nothing I can do about it, Jim. He's a grown man. Free to come and go as he wants."

"That's true. I just never seen him so upset. Maybe I'll tail him in a bit. And you, anything going on this weekend?"

"Not really, which is how I like it. I'll give you a shout when he comes back, so you can stop worrying, 'kay?"

"Would you, please? You know the two of you are like sons to me, right?"

Jensen nodded. "No need to get all mushy. Of course, we know. See you in a bit."

Two hours later, Jensen watched Jeffrey Dean Morgan, who played their dad on the series, sprint to one of the rental cars the cast had available for their use when on set. He drove away, stopped to let Jim hop in on the passenger side, and sped off.

What the hell was going on?

Jensen sighed and was just about to call Jim when Misha, who played the angel Castiel and was their best friend in real life, ran across the yard. Jensen stepped outside.

"Hey, where's everybody running to? Is there a fire or something?" Jensen tried to laugh it off.

Misha changed direction and sprinted toward him. "They got a call from a bar downtown, 'to come pick up one of our guys', they said. He's drunk off his ass and got into a fight with a local. He wouldn't tell them his name but someone recognized him from TV so they figured he must be one of ours. Jeffrey thinks it's Jared. He's also not answering his phone."

"Jared? Drunk? In a fight? I doubt it's him."

Misha shrugged. "Everyone else is accounted for. But I'm looking for him around here, in case he came back and nobody noticed. You haven't seen him, have you?"

Jensen shook his head. "Not since earlier when he stopped by. Hey, keep me posted, okay? The little guy's getting too much attention already."

They laughed easily. Jared was the youngest of the cast, but at 6'4", he was also the tallest.

Misha's phone rang. It was Jim, asking if he'd heard anything. They were at the bar, but Jared had wandered out before they got there. Nobody knew where he was, and Jeffrey was in the process of rounding up a search party.

Misha looked at Jensen. "You coming?"

"Of course. Let me just grab my jacket. It's freezing out here."

Part 3

When the two men arrived at the bar, Jeffrey had already shown the barkeeper a picture of Jared and confirmed he was the guy who had caused all the trouble.

"There's a side to him I wasn't aware of. A closet badass," Jensen mumbled.

"He's on foot, so he can't have gotten too far. Just make sure you look into every alley, doorway, and pothole," Jim instructed before they split.

The four guys spread out, shouting Jared's name, pointing the beams of their cell phone flashlights into open doorways and down dark alleys.

"He's probably passed out somewhere and doesn't hear us. Don't be fooled by his size. He's a lightweight," Jensen said when he ran into Jim.

They searched for another fifteen minutes before meeting up with the others outside the bar, but Jared remained missing.

Jensen tried calling him, but Jared's phone went straight to voicemail. "Maybe he is back on set already? Let me call Rob (Benedict) and Richard (Speight). Maybe they have seen him," he said, sounding worried now. But nobody knew where he was.

"There's no way around it, we'll have to get the police involved," Jim said gravely. "He'll freeze to death out here, poor guy. Damnit! That's all he needs, bad publicity."

At that moment, something caught Jensen's attention. He looked up at the nearby water tower and his heart skipped a beat.

"Oh my God, he's up there!" he yelled. "He's gonna fall!"

The men stared in horror at Jared, who clung precariously to the narrow railing surrounding the tank. They ran toward the tower, yelling for Jared to hang on tight, they would get him down. He did not react to their shouts but stared off into the distance. Jensen crumpled to his knees, clutching his hands behind his head, sobbing and praying at the same time.

Misha separated from the group, signaling to the others that he would climb up, and asking them to keep Jared distracted until he reached him.

Jeffrey pretended they were shooting a scene from Supernatural. "Sam! Sammy, listen to me, it's dad. Hang on tight now until we wrap up the scene, then we'll get you down, okay? We'll do something fun later, Dean and you and me. And you can drive the Impala, I promise. Just a couple more minutes. We're almost done here. Then we'll do something together, all right!"

Misha was halfway up the ladder. Jensen rocked on his heels while holding his head, and Jim held out his arms as if he wanted to catch them, should one of them fall. Jeffrey kept talking and Jared seemed to listen. At least he didn't make any sudden moves or tell them to leave him alone.

Misha appeared behind him. He lunged forward and held Jared in a tight grip.

"It's okay, buddy, you're safe now. We'll get you down. Everybody is waiting. Richard and Rob and Jim and all the others, so we can hang out. Oh, look, and here comes Jeff."

Jeffrey climbed up the ladder and positioned himself on Jared's other side. He still had a death grip on the railing but didn't seem to want to jump. Misha took off his coat and draped it around Jared's shoulders. The two men talked calmly, asking Jared what he was doing while Jeffrey rubbed his back to put him at ease.

Misha, who only wore a t-shirt now, shivered visibly. They needed to hurry so they could still feel their fingers for the climb down. Jim below had been on the phone and a few minutes later, Richard's truck pulled up.

Richard the Speight was a take-charge kind of guy and sure enough, he didn't waste time. "Hey, you idiots plan on staying up there all night? I'm freezing my ass off, and there's hot cocoa waiting in the mess hall for us. Let's go!"

The guys up on the tower busted out laughing. It broke the seriousness of the situation. Jared got up with stiff legs and let his friends help him toward the ladder. Jeffrey went first, waiting until Jared had his feet securely on the rungs. Step by step, they helped him down to where the others waited with bated breath.

Most of the guys piled into Richard's truck to drive back to the bar where their cars were parked, but Jim gestured to Jensen to walk the short distance with him instead.

"You're riding back with me," he commanded.

Jensen, aware of what he was saying, complied, feeling like crap. He ducked into the passenger seat and leaned his head against the window. "So you think it's dangerous for him to be around me." It wasn't a question.

"Not exactly dangerous, no. You two adore each other, that hasn't changed. But there's something that...I don't know. Something's going on with him. Maybe he needs to talk to someone."

"You mean a shrink? Why do you think that? I didn't notice anything unusual. Well, maybe I did. I don't know. We're all stressed, I guess."

"Somethin's eaten on him."

"Yeah? How come I didn't notice?"

"You did. And you reacted in a brusque way. That's why he's hurtin'."

Jensen shook his head. "What? That's bizarre. Why would I react angrily to that?"

"Maybe you felt uneasy by his neediness. Or threatened."

"Whatever. I'm too tired to argue. I just don't want him to think I hate him," Jensen said miserably.

Jim nodded. "Yeah, that would be bad."

"And it wouldn't be true! Can I please tell him that?"

Jim advised him to wait until the next day but promised to pass the message on to Jared, to let him know there were no hard feelings.

They pulled up next to Jeffrey's car and followed the others inside.

For a brief moment, Jared and Jensen made eye contact. Both hurt inside but didn't know what to say, so they averted their gaze. But the feeling hung like an ominous cloud over the whole place.

"I don't want him to be alone tonight," Jim said to the others in a low voice.

Part 4

Jensen caught Jared's attention again as they warmed themselves up in the cafeteria. This time the look lasted longer than before in the parking lot and Jensen was able to convey a plea for forgiveness to his friend. A flicker of hope and relief lit up Jared's face. The room suddenly felt brighter, but they were still kept apart by the others.

It would have to do for now until they had time to talk things out.

Misha and Richard stayed with Jared for the night while Jim offered Jensen to come over anytime he felt the need to talk. This had been J2's, as their fans lovingly called them, first real fight and everybody was miserable. Jensen took Jim up on his offer, and they talked over a few beers. He got right to the point.

"Do you think he would've jumped?"

"I doubt it. Seemed he climbed up there and didn't know what for. He's homesick, that much I know. Left home at seventeen, put all his energy into work to prove himself without slowing down. No wonder he feels out of it. We all have a breaking point."

"Yeah, but...what if we hadn't found him?"

Jim took a swig of beer and wiped his mouth on his sleeve before answering in a measured way. "I think he might have fallen without meaning to, is my best guess. He was drunk enough."

Jensen got up and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, let's not talk about this. What do you suggest we do now?" His eyes shone with concern. "You said you've noticed something bothering him. Other than feeling homesick, you mean?"

"Way I see it, you and him and the rest of us, we are actors, artists. We create. And that creativity comes from a place inside, like a well we draw from, don't it? At least that's how it feels for me. And many times I've noticed that artists are... searching more than other people, in their thoughts and questions. I think the word I'm looking for is melancholic. Some are deeply depressed. It seems to go together, creativity, genius, and depression. It's not something they can easily control. At least not without help.

Look at Van Gogh and Hemingway. And all the stars who ended their lives in recent years. The crazy part is, out of our darkest moments often come our best works. It gives us a high, and after that, some of us fall into a hole. It's usually temporary, but when it happens, it's bad. And some are in too much pain to ride it out. They get stuck and don't see a way out."

Jensen stared at him open-mouthed. "I never realized that. You're saying, the price we pay for being great artists comes with a death wish?"

"Not for all, of course. But for many, especially the good ones. Pay attention. Now that you're aware, you'll notice."

"But-but, that's terrible! Who wants to be successful if it makes them feel like wanting to die?"

"They can't not create, it has to come out. The bad part is that it brings up everything else. That's what needs to be addressed."

"Jim, you're scaring me. Is that where you think Jared is headed? That we'll have to babysit him, and if he's on his own for too long, he'll do something stupid?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm no expert, but my gut tells me we should watch for signs and then be there for him when he needs it. Or get him help."

Jensen was quiet for a long time. "I'm glad Misha and Richard are here. They're the best guys you can imagine. And you. And Rob and all the others. He will always have us, no matter where we are in the world. We won't let him fall, ever! He's our brother!"

When the two met up the next day, they hugged for a long time. Jared trembled from nerves and a hangover. Jensen, still reeling from his talk with Jim, patted him on the back and stared over his shoulders into the distance. He had a worried look on his face.

"I don't know what was wrong with me last night. I didn't mean any of what I said, you know that, right? You okay?"

Jared nodded. "Yeah, of course. I don't know what's going on with me lately."

Jensen pulled away so he could see his expression. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It just feels like... a fog, or weariness, and it drags me down to where... I can't think straight." Jared didn't tell him that he often wished he weren't alive without being suicidal, if that made any sense. Wishing to be done with it all and not having to feel anything anymore, was the best he could describe it, just not aloud. He shook his head to scatter away the thoughts and put on a brave face. "It just feels like I'm going crazy sometimes. I'm sure I'm not the only one who ever feels that way, right?"

Jensen shrugged. "I don't know, man. You sure it's nothing more?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me." He gave him an encouraging smile.

Jensen slapped him on the shoulder. "This will never happen again, I promise. We're brothers, dammit."

But Jared was wrong about being okay...

Part 5

Several weeks went by. The two friends had gotten past their fight and actually grown closer. Jensen observed his "little brother" for the signs Jim had spoken of but was unable to detect anything out of the ordinary. Jared was his gregarious self, but now Jensen wondered if he could be faking it. He was, after all, an actor. And a damn good one at that.

But every once in a while, Jensen picked up certain phrases which sounded harmless, but looking at them from a different perspective, they could be signals of a troubled mind. Whenever something didn't go perfectly, Jared would say, "Yup, I suck as always." Or, "I'm no good at that. Why do they even keep me around?" The worst one was when he joked around and said laughingly, "Just kill me. The world would be better off without me anyway."

Jensen pulled him aside. "Why did you just say that?"

"Say what?"

"The 'kill me, the world would be better off without me,' bit?"

"Oh, come on, you know I was kidding!" Jared slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a huge smile. "I didn't mean any of it."

Jensen shrugged and concluded Jim was overreacting and there was nothing to be concerned about. Didn't people say things like that all the time without giving it a second thought?

It was a day like any other. Jensen and Jared were both in the makeup trailer getting ready for the filming of A Very Supernatural Christmas, and Jared seemed antsy, restless.

"Hold still," Jeannie said. "I'm getting makeup all over you."

"Sorry." Jared tried to stop fidgeting, but his fingers kept twisting.

His jaws tightened, and a muscle spasm jerked across his face at intervals. He stared into space, not paying attention to his surroundings. The feeling he kept locked up for most of his adult life lurked right below the surface, and this time it was stronger, letting him know it was getting ready to break through any moment. Jared knew he was losing ground and desperately tried to get the sensation under control.

"Jared!"

He jerked up, looking around as if trying to figure out where he was. "What?"

"I said you're done. Hurry up, they're waiting for you."

He made it through rehearsal, then went to his trailer to change and prepare for the day's first take. But instead of changing, Jared sat down on the couch and stayed there. He simply couldn't muster the strength to get up and go on. An oppressive sensation of darkness and heaviness fell over him, swallowed him up, and dragged him toward the abyss. Something was terribly wrong.

He sat paralyzed, rooted to the spot, while crew members knocked on the trailer door. His mind felt blank one minute and raced with absurd thoughts the next. Jensen must have walked in at some point because now he crouched in front of him and wanted to know what was wrong.

Jared didn't have an answer. He felt Jensen's hand in his, saw him get up, heard him shout for a doctor, and watched him sit down next to him. Jensen's mouth was moving. Jared heard sounds coming out, but the words didn't convey any meaning. His brain felt cottony, his body leaden, the heaviness of it pressing him into the seat. After a while, he could concentrate enough to make out parts of what Jensen was saying.

"Jared, can you hear me? What can I do?"

Jared turned his head slightly, trying to focus on his friend's eyes, but now his tongue felt thick. He couldn't speak.

"Who am I, Jared?" the mouth asked.

"Je... Jes..."

"Jensen, your friend. What's your name?"

Jared gave him a goofy smile. He tried again. "Jenseh. Jair..."

Jensen gave him a thumbs up. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"You're silly."

"Yes, I am silly, and you are silly. We're playing a silly game. Do you know where we are?"

That made Jared snort. He found the question funny and was able to garble a few words, but then his expression changed from amused to pained. He wrung his hands in desperation.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't feel 'me' anymore, Jensen. I can't connect to myself." Jared let out a low moan. "Do you know what I mean? I feel like I'm going crazy, like I lost Jared. I don't know who he is...where he is..." His gaze drifted away and he stared unseeingly into the distance.

He felt a squeeze on his knee and looked up. He noticed tears on Jensen's cheeks and saw him wipe his eyes.

"We're here for you, buddy. We love you. You do whatever you need to do to get better, okay?"

There was a knock on the door, and the doctor and assistant producer walked in. After a brief discussion, the doctor stayed with Jared while the producer stepped outside to talk to the others. Jensen waited at the other end of the trailer.

He dialed Jim's number and told him what was happening, asking him to let Richard and Misha know that Jared was not well. Just then, he overheard Jared explain that he was hurting, that he felt he had nothing to give to this world, and considered himself to be a failure and mistake.

Jensen held his head in his hands and wept.

Part 6

Misha arrived at a trot and blew in the door. He crouched opposite Jensen with a worried look. Jensen told him as much as he knew when they heard the doctor asking Jared if he had trouble sleeping.

Yes.

Did someone close to him die recently?

No.

Did he have no or low energy?

Yes.

Does he feel anxious?

Yes, all the time.

Did he prefer staying home over going out with friends?

Yes.

Did he entertain thoughts of suicide?

N-No. But he wants to be dead.

Jensen suppressed a sob. "He doesn't want to live anymore," he said, horrified.

Misha's lips tightened into a thin line and he nodded glumly.

"While I waited with him for the doc to show up, he said, it's like a downward spiral into the abyss, like his life or his soul are in shards and he cannot match up the pieces. It makes him feel disconnected from himself."

"That's what happens when you're an introvert having to live life as an extrovert. It's against their nature. Shh, I want to hear what they're saying."

The doctor reasoned with Jared to take a break from filming, go home, be with his family, and see a counselor. But Jared insisted he couldn't just let people down on such short notice. So many depended on him, their jobs and livelihoods hinged on his efforts of doing his best for a show that was taking on a life of its own. It was turning into a phenomenon, and he was part of the reasons. He and his 'brother' were the show! They compromised by Jared agreeing to take the rest of the day off, do whatever he needed to do, and see how he felt in the morning.

"Most likely clinical depression," the doctor informed them. "He has a long road ahead of him and we will need to run more tests, but with proper treatment and a lot of help from his friends and family, it is treatable."

"Curable or treatable?" Jensen wanted to know.

"Treatable."

Misha had a few questions, but Jensen went looking for his friend and found him sitting on the bed staring at the wall. His eyes were glazed over and he seemed to have zoned out.

"Hey, buddy. How are you?"

"What?"

"How're you feeling?"

"Like shit, man."

"Can you be a little more specific? I mean, I feel like shit after the third steak or twelfth beer." Jensen tried to lighten the mood, but it didn't seem to reach him. Then, in a moment of lucidity, Jared focused his gaze on him.

"How I feel? Ugly, incompetent, worthless, meaningless... I don't think anyone would miss me if I was gone."

Jensen was flabbergasted. "Where do you get such crazy thoughts from?! Not being missed? Do you have any idea what kind of effect you have on millions of fans out there? You are super handsome, super talented, popular, have an amazing family, enough money to last a lifetime... millions of girls want you, millions of guys want to be you! You sound like an anorexic staring into the mirror and perceiving themselves as fat. Are you just fishing for compliments?"

Jared shook his head. "Why am I not feeling it, Jensen? Why don't I see myself as all that? You really think people care? They'd probably be better off without me."

When Jensen realized Jared was dead serious, he buried his face in his hands in frustration. "Look, I don't know what's wrong with you, but you sound like your brain needs rewiring. You have a totally distorted image of yourself. There would be mass suicides across the globe if you died." He winked at him and said in a lighter tone, "And because of me, of course, too." He waited for a smile, but it wasn't forthcoming.

"When you're that famous and popular, you must feel like you're all alone in the world," Jim said.

The cast sat around waiting while the lighting was set up to commence filming the next day. Jared seemed to feel better, which was the keyword here – seemed. He was still in makeup while his friends sat outside talking about the day before.

"It doesn't make sense, but I know what you mean," Richard agreed. "People don't see that side of fame. They don't see the real person behind the actor who is so removed from everyone else. He's elevated out of context with the real self. And the fans always want more, more, more of him. There's no break anymore. At least, not long enough to reconnect with the 'I'."

"Which is why Avicii is dead," Misha mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking out loud."

"So, what do we do?" Jensen interrupted.

"He'll definitely need to talk to someone. Not just us, but a professional. And he needs to go on prescription meds. Many times, depression is caused by an imbalance in the brain, which can only be treated with chemicals," Jim said. "Not to sound like a prick, but let's get the obvious facts out of the way so we can concentrate on the mushy stuff."

Jared emerged from the trailer and a hush fell over the group.

"Speak of the devil," Richard said. "Sit down, bro. We want to talk to you."

Over the years that followed, Jared knew his friends had his back no matter what. Jensen didn't only play his big brother on Supernatural but became one in real life. They both got married to the loves of their lives and bought houses next to each other so their kids could grow up together and go to the same school. Jared got professional help. Still, in 2015, while in Geneva, Switzerland, he suffered from a total breakdown during which he was sure he would not come out alive. With the help of his friends and family, he prevailed.

His campaign "Always Keep Fighting" to raise funds for people who are hurting as much as he does, has turned into a huge success. When Jared is able to participate in a SPN convention, Jensen watches over him. In Yolanda Milander's words, "Since Jared's breakdowns, Jensen looks out for him, lets him know on stage when he notices him faltering, panicking, overwhelmed with anxiety and clowns up to take the focus off of Jared. A look, a gesture, will convey to Jared that Jensen has his back." (And he knows, he knows I'm there. He gets emotional, he's a big guy with a big heart, and sometimes he doesn't know where to stop. –Jensen during a con).

This is why fans connect with the show and the real people behind it, and to Jared's pain, because even though he has it all, he still suffers. You can be rich, good-looking, popular, successful, and seemingly have everything going for you, it's still no guarantee you will feel good about it. This alone is a revelation. If the blessings in life don't register as such, the sufferer reasons, what is the point of having them? They might as well go to someone else instead of getting wasted.

Jared said in his essay, What does the fandom mean to me? in Lynn Zubernis's book, "Family don't end with blood": "I have a tendency to ignore the good and magnify the bad. Supernatural's continued success actually made me doubt myself more. I convinced myself I was a fraud, but the fandom taught me trust, and that role models don't have to be perfect. Just do the best you can and accept that you will falter. And that it's okay to fall, ask for help and understanding, and receive forgiveness. I spent a lot of time creating different Jareds. I was convinced that there must be some version of me I would accept."

In order to conquer that false, deceptive feeling, you need to brave the move to the other side, to the light, the truth, the plain clear view of truth, the real side in the front; not the inverted behind where all the negative stuff is, and live life there.

Jared, you did not let down your fans. You gave all of us a chance to lift you up.