But on the subject of Glee...let's talk coping mechanisms.
I think I've mentioned the "Klaine Stories" document on my computer, a thing I've been keeping since 2012 that is basically scattered scenes, only a few hundred words apiece, which I've never considered publishing or cleaning up enough to publish because I just like writing them down. Since the spoilers for the original breakup, a/k/a what some would argue was my break with full sanity, some of those stories have been therapeutic entries in Blaine's journal. I haven't tried very hard to stick to his character, since it's mostly been a vehicle for my own grief. But you should know that I've had Blaine write at least three suicide notes to date (and in each and every one I envisioned them being successful, until a couple of months would pass and I'd need Blaine to write again and subsequently have to reconcile that he'd chickened out of the attempt again).
Even after they got back together, it was a comfort to know in the back of my mind that Blaine, my Blaine, still suffered from depression. The kind who is determined to push past it on his own, so there are no counselors and no medication, because part of him finds comfort in not being able to fight off the darkness when it comes (in part because: eternal punishment for cheating. He was never like this before). I felt very vindicated after 5x16, and more than a bit rankled by how quickly he bounced back afterwards. (there may have been some spinoffs in my story bits where he rejected June's offer because he was only supposed to catch up with Kurt, not outshine him, and better to stay dimmed than risk alienating Kurt ever, ever again. Canon Blaine definitely thinks things through better on that front, using his connections for Kurt's benefit.)
But even after the happy finale, which I loved, I liked to think it was there -- that he could have two straight months of happiness and still wake up in the middle of the night in paralyzing fear, out of the clear blue, that it could all go away. (FORESHADOWING?? SECOND SIGHT??)
The point of this tl;dr ramble is that I tried to make season 6 work. I found a way that my brain POSSIBLY could accept a second breakup, when I imagined Blaine spiraling as a result and dropping out of NYADA and moving back home, as I understand canon has established. But I cannot and will not put Karofsky into it, so I'm writing my own version. In my version, Blaine goes back to his parents' house, but not to coach the Warblers -- he takes an evening-shift custodial job so he can be alone and out of sight, and numb all the emotions via physical labor. Numb his voice. Numb everything that ever made him special or wanted or worthy of anything at all. Half hoping Kurt will come for reconciliation, half hoping he'll come so he can tell him off.
And then today I read Just One Year, and it gave me a whole new idea. Now? I want Blaine to run. Not around the world; I'm not that self-sabotaging yet, but I want him to flee west, out to the middle of nowhere. Screw Glee's central mindset that the midwest is a wasteland. I want Blaine to start over in a new city, no attachments -- the life I was never brave enough to live myself. (the life I never actually wanted until right this minute, since at this point I've concluded my maturity is permanently stalled at ten years behind my age, so I'm only just now starting to feel independent and ready to leave my parents' nest) I'm warming to the idea that he's finally convinced himself he's ready to have a life with purpose and happiness again, if still nowhere near ready to date and probably also not yet ready to perform (though I'm sure that life would find him again one way or another, were I to make this a plot).
I've actually had quite a lot of fun plotting Blaine's escape: plans to rent a room until he has enough saved to rent his own place, plans to look through local classifieds and help-wanted signs for various part-time positions (unless he can stumble into full time), maybe volunteer at an elementary or middle school. He's barely twenty, and despite the lack of a formal degree, he has a whole life of options ahead of him. All he has to do is dive in.
I've moved this story branch into its own file, now entitled "Make That Change," thinking myself very clever to tie it back to 2011, when a white-tuxedo-clad Blaine had no idea how relevant this song would become to his life.