I should have learned by now that it would be a good idea to read descriptions of books, movies and TV shows before I start binging them. At the same time, not doing so has led to some sort of unhappy accidents.

Last year, as I was perusing the book store, hoping to find something to distract myself during the unfortunately timed Disney trip that we had to take, I stumbled across a bright pink book titled “Lessons in Chemistry.” The protagonist’s name was Elizabeth, she loved chemistry and cooking, and the book was hailed as “an utter delight, wry and vibrant, and compulsively readable,” according to Claire Lombardo, author of “The Most Fun We Ever Had.” I mean, if ever a book screamed “read me,” this was it.

This is a spoiler alert, and I don’t feel badly about giving it away, as the book has been out for a year, and made many “book of the year” lists. If you haven’t read it or heard about it by now, it is your loss. Elizabeth’s own Wonderful Husband is killed suddenly and tragically, and she’s left with, of all things, a dog that understands her and tries to help move her life in the right direction. Well, the similarities had to end somewhere, I guess.

I made a similar mistake a few weeks ago. I’m a Harrison Ford junkie. I have been since I was little and Han Solo and Indiana Jones were my heroes. My perfect future prince was absolutely going to know that “I know” was the right answer. I think I’ve seen just about every movie he’s ever made, and I was excited to hear that he was going to be starring in one of the Yellowstone spinoffs, 1923. I’m already addicted to the series, and had no problem envisioning him as the weather worn cowboy, intent on justice. However, I was not aware of him also starring in another little show on Apple TV, “Shrinking,” until his co-star Jason Segel appeared on the Late Show for an interview.

Honestly, the premise of the show didn’t really suck me in. It’s about a therapist, Jimmy, who takes an unusual approach to his practice and parenting. Having spent about half of the last year trying to find some answers through therapy, and then the next half of the year justifying my decision to stop seeking treatment, I kind of got itchy just thinking about the T word. (And, if you’re worried about how much TV I’m watching, you probably should be, but binge TV is here for the insomniacs among us.). In the end, the allure of Harrison was too much, and I was out of fresh episodes of every other series I’m following. (Also, I watch TV while I’m folding laundry and ironing school clothes, which never ends in this house.).

This is a spoiler alert, but it happens very early in the first episode and is mentioned in a number of show synopses, so I also don’t feel too guilty about giving this away. The whole catalyst for everything that happens with the main character is that his wife was killed in an accident. About halfway through the episode, I found myself no longer folding clothing and instead, sitting on the couch with tears streaming down my face. I just wanted to hug Jimmy and say, “I know,” but it would have had an entirely different meaning.

While I would have enjoyed both the book and the TV show immensely in the past (Did I mention Harrison Ford is in one?), enjoyed wasn’t the word that I was feeling. Instead, it was that all too elusive feeling of connection. It was clear to me that somewhere along the line, the people behind these stories had faced some kind of terrible loss. Elizabeth is numb but forces herself to soldier on for her child and, of course, the dog. On the other side of the spectrum, Jimmy has basically shut down as a parent, leaving that job to his happy-to-help neighbor, named, ironically enough, Liz. I feel like I’m constantly fighting the battle between being Elizabeth and being Jimmy.

While “Lessons in Chemistry” has become billed as more of a “you go girl” kind of book, for me, it will always be one of the first places that echoed and explained some of the grief feelings that were new to me. “Shrinking” is still young. Only a few episodes have been released, and maybe I will ultimately end up hating it. But for now, I’m begging my friends to watch it, hoping that they will see a lot of (unfortunate) familiar behavior, and realize that I’m actually sort of normal when it comes to losing your ever-loving mind when this sort of situation happens, and maybe worry about me less. Or more, depending how this show plays out.

Following a worldwide pandemic, and the isolation and loss that came with it, I feel like these media are a natural output. There is barely anyone who hasn’t been touched by some sort of loss, however close or distant, over the last few years. One of the other shows that I been looking forward to eagerly was the reboot of “Sex in the City.” I was the original target audience, and although I knew going in that things didn’t end well for Big, I was furious at both the story line from her publisher pushing her to show the world that there was a happy ending in it for Carrie after all, and then even more enraged when she seemed to toe the line and move on. I found myself scream crying at the TV “No, it’s not like that” more than once.

At any rate, if you’ve experienced loss, or you want to empathize with those who have, I recommend “Lessons in Chemistry” and “Shrinking.” Bring a box of tissues, if you’re human, and if you’re fortunate enough not to have experienced this kind of grief, you will probably learn a few things. If you have had such misfortune, it has helped me to know that these feelings are communal enough to help make a book a best-seller, and a show that is currently number one on Apple TV, so it might help you, too. Also, did I mention Harrison Ford?

Liz Pinkey is a contributing columnist who appears weekly in the Times News.