Why the Portrayal of Grief and PTSD in ‘Locke & Key’ Matters

The first show I watched when self-isolation began in March was the Netflix original series
Locke & Key. I had never heard of it before, or knew at the time it was an already popular comic series, but was drawn in by the trailer promising what seemed like Alice in Wonderland meets Pan’s Labyrinth meets Coraline.

The show starts with the Locke family moving from Seattle to a small town in Massachusetts to live in their late-father’s childhood home. The family has just survived a shooting at the hands of an unstable student their father was treating who ambushes their home, killing their father, and attempting to gun down the rest of them as he demands answers around the Locke family house and the keys.

Hoping for a fresh start, the Locke family moves across the country to an incredible family mansion that turns out to also be magical, as the youngest son, Bode, begins discovering magic keys around the house. But not all magic is good and as Bode attempts to find more, he unleashes a dark spirit that has been trapped in the family’s well house and is determined to destroy the world. With supernatural forces at play, the Locke kids — Tyler, Kinsey, and Body — must investigate the mysterious circumstances around their father’s death in order to find the answers and discover nothing is what it seems, including the hero they thought they knew.

It’s an amazing show, but what really stood out to me as a viewer was how Locke & Key digs into the intertwining of grief, PTSD, and trauma — an intertwining that has deeply impacted my own life, but I have rarely seen represented on television.

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A Few Thoughts on Loneliness During Self-Isolation

It would be impossible not to think, even a little, about loneliness right now. It’s a feeling that comes and goes like every other emotion under the sun, catching me off guard as Monday becomes Tuesday becomes the weekend once again. Loneliness is a word I have forever shied away from, but after these past four weeks of self isolating alone, I have a couple new feelings (and of course, thoughts) when it comes to the L word.

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The Time I Went to a 6 A.M. Sober Rave on a Boat

It all started over a dinner conversation. One of my best friends mentioned she’d heard of this event called Daybreaker. Originally held in a warehouse in Brooklyn, Daybreaker is a sunrise dance party that travels around the tip of Manhattan on a boat from 6 a.m. to 8 a.m. The goal of the event, which is held across the U.S., is to inspire community and wellness through a giant dance party and for the earliest of early birds, a 5 a.m. yoga sessions to really get the good vibes flowing.

The more she described it, the more I felt the event’s siren song calling to me for no other reason that I needed to understand why this existed. And not only existed, but why hundreds of thousands of people around the country were voluntarily getting up before the sun to dance with a bunch of sweaty strangers before heading off to their 9 to 5pm.

And one year later, with my bathing suit pinned into my skirt, I found myself waiting in line to board this party boat about to break the dawn to the best of my abilities.

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