How ‘Seinfeld’ Helped Me Cope With My Grief And Anxiety

When “Seinfeld” first aired in 1989, I was busy adjusting to life as a new mom. I spent my days juggling feeding schedules, laundry, mommy-and-me classes and shopping for my son as though he were about to grace the cover of GQ. By the time evening rolled around, all I wanted to do was sleep.

Throughout the ’90s, people constantly asked me if I watched “Seinfeld.” I hadn’t. The question came up so often that it felt like a recurring plotline of the show. I finally tuned in to see what all the fuss was about, but it didn’t move me one way or another. For whatever reason, I couldn’t explain why “Seinfeld” left me feeling ambivalent any more than Elaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) could explain why she hated “The English Patient.”

While my friends discussed close talkers and whether a sneeze deserved a “bless you,” I spent much of my time inside my own orbit. Everything outside my own life was simply background noise that I paid little attention to. While the Gulf War, O.J. Simpson trial, Princess Diana’s death, collapse of the Soviet Union and Bill Clinton scandal were making headlines, there was always something more important going on in my personal life: a child, a career, a move, a marriage or a divorce. I suppose those disruptions filled the space that current events might have otherwise occupied.

Year after year, the noise from the outside world got louder. Conversations turned political. It was no longer possible to stay informed without getting swept into an endless stream of headlines and conflicting opinions. As someone who had never engaged in politics, I suddenly found myself reading articles and opinion pieces and listening to podcasts. But instead of finding clarity, I felt confused, overwhelmed and anxious. It wasn’t that I stopped caring about what was happening in the world. Quite the opposite. Every headline felt urgent. Every opinion seemed to demand my attention. Before long, I realized I had taken on the weight of a world that already felt too heavy.

Then, in 2017, the death of my son overshadowed everything.

I moved through my days on autopilot as grief filled every corner of my life. Even the smallest tasks felt like they required more energy than I had. The evenings were the hardest to face. The moment I turned out the lights, my mind started running marathons. Memories. Regrets. An endless chorus of “what if.” The silence only made the thoughts louder. Sleep no longer came naturally. It became a nightly struggle.

I turned to television to escape, but television had changed. Every show seemed to revolve around antiheroes, violence, true crime or apocalyptic futures. Even comedies found humor in life’s miseries. I was desperate to find anything to watch that didn’t ask me to spend one more hour immersed in life’s darkest moments, but no matter how many streaming platforms I searched, I couldn’t find anything. I understand the appeal of stories that don’t tie everything up in a nice little bow, but the world already felt heavy enough, and the last thing I needed was another dose of despair.

It was during that period that I rediscovered “Seinfeld.”

I don’t remember how it happened. Maybe Netflix suggested it, or maybe I came across it by accident. Whatever the reason, I discovered the show calmed my mind. My grief was still there, and so were the headlines. But for 22 minutes, my thoughts shifted from despair to whether George (Jason Alexander) would sabotage himself again, whether Kramer (Michael Richards) would burst through Jerry’s door, or whether Elaine would find herself in another doomed relationship.

For the first time in months, I noticed my thoughts slowing down. My mind wasn’t racing the way it always did night after night. It finally had somewhere else to go.

“Seinfeld” became an antidote to my anxiety. It was comforting to know that I didn’t need to brace myself for another tragedy. I knew what I was getting. While I wrestled with grief and the chaos in the news, the problems on “Seinfeld” were insignificant, and that triviality was exactly what I needed. Four people arguing over a parking spot, a marble rye and a puffy shirt.

In a world that felt anything but normal, “Seinfeld” gave me a sense of normalcy that I couldn’t find anywhere else.

Nearly a decade later, the news remains relentless. Social media has grown exhausting. My grief is still with me. Yet I still end most evenings with “Seinfeld” playing in the background. The familiar bass line. Jerry’s opening monologue. The same dialogue I’ve heard hundreds of times before. Just a little bit of predictability in increasingly unpredictable times. Some people meditate. Some listen to ocean sounds. Apparently, I need George Costanza yelling about nothing.

I’ve come to realize that amid all the calamity, there’s something soothing about knowing exactly what’s about to happen next. No surprises. No news alerts waiting behind the next commercial break. Just four New Yorkers going about their lives, where their biggest problems are usually self-inflicted.

So when I recently heard that Netflix is dropping “Seinfeld,” my immediate reaction wasn’t disappointment. It was panic. The streamer is losing the NBC sitcom on Oct. 1.

I realize it’s only a television show, and the world isn’t going to end because it’s leaving Netflix. But somewhere along the way, “Seinfeld” became an integral part of my nightly ritual, a familiar way to unwind when life becomes overwhelming.

After a decade of grief and an endless stream of breaking news that never quits, a light, silly, inconsequential show became exactly what I needed.

We don’t always know what will help us get through life’s difficult times. Sometimes it’s a meaningful conversation. Sometimes it’s a moment of spiritual insight. Sometimes it’s therapy. And other times it’s something quite unexpected.

The world will always have another crisis waiting. Another headline. Another outrage. My grief will always be there. But I have to stop and remind myself that the world is also full of close talkers, double dippers and lots of fluff about nothing.

And sometimes, that little bit of nothing is exactly what we need.

“Seinfeld” is streaming on Netflix until Oct. 1.