Hey, Miss J!

I don’t make a show of having material that might be too uncomfortable on my blog. It’s not a habit. However, my background as a writer and especially of fanfic compels me to note this…

There is some upsetting information, a tidbit, about myself therein.

You were warned.

Been so angry over the lack of any decent shows to be found… anywhere. I’m frustrated and disillusioned with YouTube, and TikTok is certainly not worth me wasting any more of my time on it. Those two channels are really the primary ones I deal with.

With my mobile phone plan, I have Hulu (with ads) for free. I know that some of the supposedly ‘better’ plans have free Netflix, but I really do not want that. I feel less horrid with Hulu.

To be honestly, there is nothing of much substance worth my time on Netflix.

Scouring through what few shows that I knew of, I tried to wrack my brain to remember if there was some show… ANY show that I could remember or think of that was worth it.

Growing up, there were quite a few shows. Doctor Quinn, Medicine Woman was one of them.

But I kept wondering if there was anything further back in time. Like way before my time that I could dig up to watch.

And I settled on “Little House On the Prairie” from the 1970s.

It’s nice. I can relax and watch the show – unafraid that someone will suddenly lose their clothes or there will be a litany of profanity.

With Amazon Prime, I can watch the entire show for free.

I also had no idea that each episode was over forty minutes long. The first one was like 90 minutes. I was shocked and intrigued.

I had a strange burst of energy this morning, so I was running all over between the kitchen and dining room, trying to clean them. I managed to rearrange quite a bit in both rooms.

I still have lots to do, but I’ll do my 15-minute bursts to speed through the other rooms. Main goal is to pick up trash and pull recyclables out of the rooms.

I also had a friend try to suggest that I give up my writing due to the potential content. I asked her to give me a better alternative. I especially got angry when mention was made for me to quit blogging.

Using my blog is part of my therapy. It’s nowhere near as soothing as penning out chapters, but it helps.

I asked if she knew of any other outlet that I could use, since using my blog was a terrible idea now – all of a sudden. I mentioned – repetitively – the importance of having medical professionals to help me deal with my psychiatric issues. I also explained that my meds, even though the one that treats depression has an unwanted side effect, it helped me avoid doing anything to harm myself.

I told her about some old writings I’d found a few years ago. They were explicit, written in very legible cursive. Under normal circumstances, that shouldn’t be so surprising…

Except for the fact that I was eight years old when I wrote it.

I asked her a question: “Why would an 8-year-old be writing adult oriented material?”

While I don’t go into excessive detail on my blog unless I feel comfortable discussing it, this is something I have no problem talking about.

Why would a child write something like that?

I do believe I made my point.

I deal with trauma and writing is my outlet. It helps me forget the problems I deal with on a regular basis.

It’s maddening that the reason I have so many problems even with normal relationships… is due to something that was never my fault to begin with.

I’m going to go watch more of this show.

Till Next Time.

~J. Lyst