(BoJack Horseman is available to watch on Netflix. Created by: Raphael Bob-Waksberg)

The subreddit for the animated BoJack Horseman (a dramedy about co-existing anthropomorphized animals and humans in LA) has become more about its users than its show.

Ae Padilla

It was in the hiatus between the third and fourth season of BoJack Horseman that I started watching. At this point it was 2016 and I was procrastinating on endless resumes with no results – I was also bored and depressed. This was the perfect time to watch a show about a washed-up horse actor from the 90’s hanging out in the LA hills with his couch surfing “roommate” Todd.

As much acclaim as I heard from friends and critics alike, I still did not expect BoJack to become my favorite show. I rushed through the first few seasons with ease. Mr. PeanutButter (the enthusiastic yellow lab), Diane (the snarky opinionated writer I related to with ease), Princess Carolyn (the perfectly pink feline talent agent) all grabbed my attention. BoJack too, with his rash decisions and self-deprecation galore appealed to me in both: I want to be nothing like him, but I see him in parts of me. Is he funny loveable or just an asshole I’ve been conditioned to like?

Although set on the west coast, at its heart BoJack appeals to the damaged individual in all of us no matter our location.

It’s a sign of both great writing and character development (once again in an animated show about co-existing humans and animals) when people find themselves deeply relating on a personal level to the characters, but with BoJack Horseman the results of this can be a diagnosis of sorts.

This is due in part to the tonal shift somewhere around the second season when BoJack got – for lack of a better word – dark. Sure, the show had debuted with wit, tongue and cheek humor, capable of making light heartened and somber jokes all in the same scene but then it became heavily depressive. It relied on the audience to sympathize with the main characters on the internal mental hurdles that plague someone like BoJack – which meant that most of the times those that connected to the show were those who had experienced a mental illness of their own.

These people, like me, found each other on the r/BoJackHorseman subreddit and formed through similarities a place to scrutinize their own struggles, which often covered situations both large (sobriety) and small (less than ideal life choices.) The BoJack Horseman subreddit became a place to talk about BoJack’s depression and then it became a place to talk about the viewers depression (anxiety, ADD, OCD, and in BoJack’s own words: continuously acknowledging how much of a “stupid piece of shit” you can be while doing nothing to help that warranted or unwarranted claim.)

The subreddit, and the entire online community, became a cultural touchstone for those mulling over the next possible plot point in future seasons while also reflecting on how they could one day do the impossible and “be better.” It became a sort of talk therapy, a genuine place for people looking for connection during troubling watches and personal tragedies.

People sought help from each other by realizing that each character in the show describes the many ways depression and addiction can emulate itself.

Whether it be like Mr. PeanutButter, who hides any perceived sadness through complete denial of the problem to Diane who revels in her own damage and believes everyone who does not is taking the easy way out, to BoJack who like Diane possesses self-awareness but does nothing more than just talk about his problems for most of the show’s run.

Those who inhabit the BoJack Horseman online communities ask many questions about how they have perceived their own grind. Who in this world (Hollywoo) would you be? Who do you understand? Who gets on your nerves?

This broad question meant to gather information from everyone mimics quick polls that transcends fandoms. Are you a Harry or a Ron? Zoey or Zelda? Arya or Daenerys? Are you a Diane or Mr. PeanutButter?

The results of tests like these are usually condensed into: you are the more outgoing one, the dreamer rather than doer, the optimist rather than pessimist. But in relation to BoJack it becomes “this is the character that most identifies how you deal with your mental illness.”

The BoJack Horseman fans, through the characters people love, created a unique way to narrow down their mental health struggles to a way people across the fandom can comprehend. They helped it become easily quantifiable even if it is not strictly one character (whether that is good or bad is not the point.)

IE: I have the chillness of Todd but like BoJack can garner self-awareness while still being stubborn about actually fixing myself.

Relationships to characters like these created a more enriched fandom that let viewers see the stories as almost directly relational to their own. Mistakes the characters make are ones they make in their personal lives. What happens to BoJack is what happens to them and likewise his comeuppance is what they deserve too (depending of course on their own screw-ups).

Fans of BoJack take accountability for their actions through a direct result of BoJack taking accountability for his own, but that decision was not without a fight. BoJack emotionally and physically abused women. Single handedly contributed to someone overdosing. He almost had sex with the seventeen-year-old daughter of his ex. He drank and popped pills constantly accumulating in being both a terrible friend and brother.

The show and the fandom wouldn’t be the same without BoJack finally realizing the bad decisions he made and electing to take responsibility for those misdoings. Once BoJack accepts he has gone too far he has to further accept that therapy and sobriety are the only things to make him a truly better version of himself.

So too have the people on the BoJack Horseman subreddit – who frequently talk about what they have learned from the show, one of the most important lessons being the acceptance of responsibility as phase one in the process.

For some people in the community the constant cycle of fail, try to get better, fail again, mirrors BoJack’s constants cycle of struggle and quick to burn perseverance. For others who might not be as deep in the trenches like this character, they recognize that the person they want to become will not appear unless they work at it every day. It’s going to be hard but that’s the point.

Every day, it gets a little easier. But you gotta do it every day. That’s the hard part.

Members of the BoJack Horseman subreddit have commented multiple times about how the online space has given them a place to lament on their own journey and seek out help maintaining it in a healthy way.

It’s often that for every ten posts about the show you have one from someone discussing going to rehab or finally making an appointment with a psychiatrist. All those replying in the comments are helpful, willing to give insight into their own problems to help OP with theirs, and most of all encouraging people’s small steps.

BoJack has allowed a community of people to talk openly about their mental health and their desire to try to fix themselves through therapy, good mental health practices, being active, and most all constant commitment to the personal goal.

The online forum is a carved-out space in a land of aggressive subreddits (I’m looking at you r/Austin) — subreddits whose communities are often tainted quickly. The BoJack Horseman base does not give into this (although there is no shortage of sarcasm and discussions that occasionally lead to heated debate particularly when it comes to the likability of Diane). Instead the community can recognize the seriousness and sincerity of posts that say “I want to kill myself” — a title which would normally be flagged as a cry for attention rather than a cry for help. It does not call people who post similar quotes or tattoos on a weekly basis “karma whores.” Fans acknowledge that each piece of work is an expression of genuine respect for the show but also a way to bond.

Even if fans disagree on what certain parts of each episode mean they never take digs at those who post online asking for support. In this way BoJack enthusiasts (and lurkers) have a sacred space on the internet that rarely exists anymore – somewhere they can get mental health reassurance without getting trolled.

This is perhaps the best part of the subreddit. BoJack fans are unfailingly kind when they could be rash and have the “pick yourself up by your bootstraps” mentality to newcomers who discuss their lowest points. They are empathetic but not willing to put up with people who defend BoJack or themselves when the defense is simply excuses.

A lot of them have been there. To them (paraphrased) BoJack made them feel less alone. BoJack was an experience. It provided a good demonstration to me and others how someone with mental illness treats themselves. BoJack changed them.

It would be hard to fully encapsulate what BoJack means to me, although it can go without saying that I have thought about it a fair amount. The last time I considered myself part of a “fandom” was when Harry Potter was at its peak (the 5th, 6th, and 7th books were not yet out.) I was engrossed. I cared more about the story than almost anything in my life, I visited online message boards trying to make sense of small bits of book information I most certainty thought were clues on how the series would end. I contemplated getting a tiny lightning bolt tattoo – an ode to my sister and I’s trips to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and my deep-seated understanding that the series really pulled me out of my depression.

Now as young Harry Potter fans become millennials, I see tattoos of the series on everyone from former coworkers to friends. Deathly hallows symbols, quotes, characters, you name it. Some of these people sporting ink read the series with their families, others used it as a crutch during the difficult time of adolescence, and still for others the tattoo represents their first love (or renewed love) for reading and the world of fantasy.

With BoJack I find the fandom, and the art that springs from it – an almost admittance that all of us are in some ways BoJack. Even to the point where people fear that whatever he does they are destined to do (the amount of if BoJack kills himself in the season finale does that mean one day I will posts are telling).

Having a BoJack Horseman tattoo is a declaration of love towards the show and its creators. But it is also something to always look at – a message hidden plain as day to carry on in the face of insurmountable struggle. BoJack has tried and if he has then you most certainly can.

It can’t be quantified but this fandom is different. Unlike large fandoms (Harry Potter or Game of Thrones) BoJack exists for 90 percent of committed watchers as their own story. Proof that they were finally seen.

BoJack Horseman taught me the truth about myself I knew deep down but failed to truly acknowledge. It warned me the dangers of fetishizing my sadness. It told me that there can be more than the person I accepted I was always going to be – that the voice inside my head was lying to me. I have everything to offer the world and myself, but I must work on myself every day to get there. What I am in my heart is nothing. It is only my actions. There is no audience that sees all the thoughts that play in my head every day and congratulates myself when I do one thing right to move the play along. There is no moment in the future when everything will “click” because life is just a series of decisions that makes you – you. The xerox of a xerox of a xerox existence that I live is not a life. I can be pessimistic because life sometimes is shitty, but I can’t feel superior for being a pessimist. That uniqueness, that spark of specialness that’s engrained in some people from birth is a defense mechanism. The currency of my life is not based on how original, authentic, or damaged I perceive myself as. You can be terrible and judgmental; you can be nice and change the world.

BoJack took me out of my depression and simultaneously also forced me into it to examine it for what it really was. Symbolic significance over small things is just our brains way of trying to get through this crazy thing called life. Be, don’t think. You’re not better than everyone else at the party. You’re constantly capable of being better. You can fuck up and that’s okay, but you must continue forward. Always. Your mental health is not an excuse.

BoJack ended Friday, January 31st. At the time of writing this article I haven’t watched the eight final episodes. As dumb as it sounds, I’m scared to say goodbye. But I know that ultimately the creators will give BoJack what he deserves and will give us the tools to deal with how the show ends.

They’ve accepted the responsibility in creating this art and I trust them immensely. They get it. They’re not letting us off the hook easily and we shouldn’t either with our own conflict.

BoJack’s greatest lesson was to always go on no matter what. The fandom will too.