( No Title )
Ok I have thoughts about Watson and I need to get them out of my system.
So normally people learn basic life skills, like to function on their own, to structure their life and to find some kind of purpose or basis for existing on their own, when they become adults and suddenly have to live without anyone telling them what to do. It’s a challenge and a learning experience, but they find a way that works for them and it’s a huge difference to the type of life you have when you’re a child or in school or even in university, because while you have to survive on your own, there’s always a given framework for what you do when and what you’re going to do tomorrow. You don’t really have to think about your purpose or goal in life yet, it’s not an immediate problem. But the frameworks slowly get looser and more like suggestions and one day it’s over and you’re on your own and you learn to face those problems and to build a life that works for you.
Now take Watson. What’s his life? First he’s a child, then he goes to university, then to the military. In everyone of those places he has a framework, a structure. He doesn’t have the chance to develop those skills there, because everything , the structuring, the purpose is told to him. Now, normally, those years would just be a bit of delay, he’s gonna live in his own sooner or later. But the thing here is, it’s the military. It’s war. For him, it’s trauma that leaves him broken physically and mentally. How is he supposed to deal with that on his own, when he hasn’t ever had the chance to develop even basic “life skills” (I’m just gonna call them that)?
What happens then? He returns to London, finally has to actually live on his own. And now we can clearly see the problem: He spends too much money, he has no friends, no home, no job and no plans or motivation to change any of that. (He isn’t even actively looking for a roommate, that’s just pure luck) He’s just wandering aimlessly like he’s just waiting for his life to be over. And he’s only twenty-something.
He also isn’t learning those life skills now, he’s in an incredibly bad place mentally, he’s exhausted physically and emotionally, he likely has no motivation to turn his life around. Maybe if he’d had a few years, he might’ve slowly gotten better, made friends, slowly built his own life. Or he might have given up, like many others in his situation.
But after only a few months, there’s Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes, who gives him a home, a friend, excitement, a purpose, a structure. Basically a new framework for him to build his life around. And that’s exactly what he does. Holmes helps him as a friend, his mental health gets easier to deal with, there’s something to look forward to, a reason to keep living. And if he falls in love with that reason, that only makes the dependency more intense.
Whether he’s in love or not, his entire life is now centred around this man, his entire life is built on him.
He’s never learned how to live without Holmes because there never really was a life before Holmes.
Which works well, as long as Sherlock Holmes is there, until he isn’t anymore. And of course, that breaks him, of course it feels like his life is over because Holmes was his entire life, whether they were a couple or not.
This isn’t just grief for a loved one. It’s the death of the very basis of his existence, of his whole purpose, of his reason to keep living.
Now of course he has built some stuff of his own, like the practice and has made new friends, so he continues his life. But it’s never the same. Being a doctor might be a purpose, but it’s not his purpose, not the one he’s built his entire being on.
Luckily, though Holmes comes back and everything goes back to normal and everything’s fine from that point on because Holmes stays.
But. Still. He’s so absolutely dependent on Holmes and I can’t fucking imagine what his death must have felt like to Watson.
And on top of that, having to pretend to be fine after a few weeks or months, because he can’t show people how deep this relationship went, the love it’s built on. Having to bury all of those feelings and pretend he’s fine, when he is so. so. so far from fine. No one to talk to, absolutely and completely alone.
And there’s really nothing he could’ve done. It’s just the war ruining everything on such a deep level, deeper than physical injury and even deeper than PTSD, just straight up ruining his life from the inside out. And sort of, he’s lucky, here it works out somewhat because he has Holmes, but for so many it very likely didn’t. They didn’t all find a Sherlock Holmes for themselves. Some made it on their own, some maybe continued their lives without ever really learning to create their own purpose and many just.. gave up.
Anyway thinking about this makes me cry and I just wanted to share with the class.
Discussion ¬