I identify with Ted Lasso far more than I'd care to admit.

Like the upbeat,phim khiêu dam có n?i dung altruistic protagonist (played by Jason Sudeikis), I crack eye roll-worthy jokes and go out of my way to brighten rooms on the regular. Both Ted and I can be annoyingly chipper, and we're huge suckers for rom-coms. But on a heavier note, we're incredibly stubborn when it comes to helping ourselves, we work to mask our own self-doubt and fears with smiles, and we both suffer from crippling anxiety.

During some of my lowest points over the past year — times when I was so verklempt that the sheer thought of reaching out and speaking to anyone seemed too difficult a task — I would rewatch the first season of Ted Lasso. I watched not only for comfort and an unparalleled rush of serotonin, but because the show's remarkably realistic and relatable portrayals of mental health struggles made me feel seen and understood.

When screeners of the first eight episodes of Season 2 arrived, I breathed a massive sigh of relief when what I saw not only reinforced that special mix of lighthearted comedy and a rose-colored view of the world, but also the inescapable moments of darkness that disrupt them.

I had, and still have, incredibly high hopes for Season 2. Which is why I was so taken aback when, after just five episodes aired, complaints that the season was too cheerful and lacked conflict and dramatic character arcs flooded Twitter. Critics, who like myself had seen eight screeners, knew that dark moments were on the horizon and attributed some of those negative takes to Apple TV+'s decision to release the episodes week by weekrather than all at once.

But I imagine the discourse will die down once people watch the season's sixth episode, "The Signal," which airs on Aug. 27.

Written by the brilliant Brett Goldstein (who also plays Roy Kent), the episode ushers in the return of Season 1 demons and perfectly illustrates why fans shouldn't give up on Ted Lasso. It kicks off with Ted beaming through the club high off a four-game winning streak. He greets colleagues, players, and the team's sports psychologist Dr. Sharon Fieldstone (Sarah Niles) with glee. She asks him to make a therapy appointment with her, and he quickly deflects by cracking a joke.

As the episode progresses, Ted's overly peppy demeanor gradually diminishes, and with 10 minutes left in a quarterfinal game he starts exhibiting familiar body language. He hyper-focuses on his surroundings, gasps for air, and his hands start to shake. He thinks about Jamie Tartt's father yelling and hears his own son's voice before Coach Beard (Brendan Hunt) cuts in to ask if he's OK.

Ted lies about having stomach problems before sprinting off the pitch, then disappears until the final scene when Dr. Fieldstone walks into her dark office and finds him cowering in the fetal position on her couch. When she asks if he's OK, he solemnly replies: "I want to make an appointment."

"The Signal" introduces other potential sources of conflict, including the identities of anonymous Bantr matches, along with Nate's insecurities and desire for fame. But the return of Ted's personal trauma carries the kind of disruptive weight that dissatisfied viewers have been missing this season while also embodying one of the best scenes from Season 1.

When watching "The Signal" I thought back to the Emmy-nominated episode, "Make Rebecca Great Again," which taught me just how powerful Ted Lasso'scommitment to truthful mental health representation can be. In it, Ted goes to a karaoke bar with the team after signing his divorce papers, and he proceeds to have a panic attack complete with ringing ears, irregular breathing, and a racing mind. He even apologizes for having said panic attack, which really hit, because as anyone with anxiety knows, at times it can feel like a burden not just to yourself but to others.

When I reached the end of that moving scene I realized I'd been holding my breath and my face was streaked with tears. It remains the most accurate portrayal of a panic attack I've seen on TV, and it's one of the major reasons I refused to cast early doubt on Season 2.

One of the many things Ted Lassoexcels at is showing how effortless it can appear and how utterly exhausting it can be to act fine when you're emphatically not. Writers nailed the unveiling of that elaborate ruse in Season 1, and again in "The Signal." So while the new batch of episodes may have seemed overly positive and smooth to start, when we get glimpses of just how broken Ted was through all the jokes and joy we can look back at the overabundance of cheer through a distinct, poignant lens. If you choose to do so, you'll see the reality of a broken man who was working overtime to appear whole.

I haven't seen the final four episodes and have no idea where Season 2 will end up, but I can say that more raw, vulnerable, out of character moments are on the way. If anything, "The Signal" proves that in addition to joy, the show is still capable of igniting pain, empathy, and crushing introspection. Now it's up to fans to believe.

As Ted would say, it's the lack of hope — in this case, a hope that the writers can replicate the magic of Season 1 — that kills you.

The first six episodes of Ted LassoSeason 2 are now streaming on Apple TV+, with new episodes every Friday.