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A Journey Down the River Styx

Nerd Violence

Tired teacher.
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Why Yū Yū Hakusho is important.
Trigger warning! Child abuse & mention of suicide.


I love Yū Yū Hakusho; I can't imagine that this is a shocking confession for anyone who has interacted with me here. I was 12 years old the first time I saw it, and I remember it more vividly than much of childhood. It was S1E15, "Genbu, the Stone Beast," on Adult Swim. Tuned in in time to see Kurama summon his Rose Whip for the first time in the story. Seventeen years later, and I love it as dearly as I did in that moment, when the rose petals were raining down on that CRT TV, and I, for just a little while, was somewhere distant and magical.

You see, I grew up in a deeply broken family. After my mother -- a truly kind but troubled woman -- lost custody of me to my grandmother at age 3, I was quickled pawned off onto my maternal uncle, who was engaged to what would have been his second wife. She enjoyed corporal punishment, and I was beaten with a leather belt for most infractions. I went to school with welts up and down my back and my butt, and sometimes the backs of my arms or my legs, if she missed. I could go on and on about the things she did, but they don't really matter; at the age of 9, I begged and pleaded to be sent back to my mother -- who had, in the time since I was seized, contracted HIV through shared needles -- and since she was making an earnest effort to get her life together and her child back, we were reunited. It was nice, for a while, but it's hard to fight our demons. She backslid in her substance abuse and we were living in squalor and poverty within a year. Still, it was better than being beaten.

At the age of 11, I was placed on my first antidepressants. I was a troubled child; I was very heavily bullied at school for being the poor, smelly kid, and there was no structure or discipline in my home to help me navigate or cope with things. All I knew how to do was lash out. Tired of having nothing, I elected to go live with my grandmother around the age of 12. She lived in a nice suburban house and her kitchen was always full of food and treats. She had a computer, and cable TV, and a yard with a trampoline. My bedroom at my mom's house was full of cat shit, and we could barely use the kitchen. I really think my leaving for a second time, voluntarily too, really broke my mother, because she backslid further and further into drugs and alcohol, and she never again pulled herself out. I don't know if I was selfish, or if it was reasonable to just want a normal life as a kid, but I still feel a pang of guilt, even today.

The thing is, though, my mother didn't turn out the way she did all on her own. Whatever she crawled into a bottle, and into a needle, to escape from came from somewhere. It came from my grandmother. I didn't see it until I came to live with her as an adolescent, but her love and support were highly conditional. With hindsight, it's no shock that my entire maternal family -- uncle, mother, and older sister (who, like me, was raised by my grandmother) -- wound up with substance abuse problems. I lived with her for five years, and during that time I never knew what the next day was going to bring. My behavioral problems grew worse. I was in and out of short-term inpatient facilities. I grew very familiar with the local police, as they were her first line of defense in even the most minor of domestic arguments. I didn't go to school. I spent three full months bedridden with depression, having absolutely lost the will to live. I was left to lay there, too -- no one cared enough to do anything. I dropped out at the age of 16, unable to keep up under the stress of my home life. The next year, at 17, my grandmother had the police drop me off at a homeless shelter for children, and I stayed there for two weeks until they forced her to pick me back up. For the next couple months, I slept on a bare mattress and I bought my own food, until they threw me out on the streets, two months shy of 18. That was my entry into adulthood.

What does this have to do with Yū Yū Hakusho? Yū Yū Hakusho ran on US television from 2002 to 2006, ending just a month shy of my 16th birthday. It was there for four years of my life. Four years spent with my grandmother. Four years that were worse than the beatings or the squalor. Four years that did their very best to try and ruin me, and nearly succeeded. I had my first suicidal thoughts when I was 11, and I attempted suicide for the first time at 12. I was in a black place that no child should ever be in. But even when I had nothing else in the world to look forward to, I had Yū Yū Hakusho. There were times, so many times, where the only thing I lived for was the next new episode to air. Team Urameshi were my family and my friends, when I had no one else there for me. Yūsuke's mom, Atsuko, was an alcoholic, just like mine. He was delinquent and lonely, like me. I didn't feel alone, for at least a half hour most days.

I honestly believe it saved my life. I don't know that anything else at the time would have resonated with me the way it did, had it not existed or had I never found it. As grotesque as it is to think of a child ending their life, I honestly think I might have, had it not been there to give me comfort.

What awaits us down the River Styx?

Although my love for Yū Yū Hakusho is constant, its presence in my life does ebb and flow somewhat; like a good friend, it comes and goes but I always know its there for me when I need it. Lately, it's been very omnipresent, as I cocoon myself in warm nostalgia to ward off the frigid sting of adulthood. It's a normal phase, I think, and one that we all go through; it's the reason we're remaking Disney movies, and Stephen King films, and pumping out new Star Wars movies. It's the reason Let's Go! sold so many copies despite the jaded outcries of the diehards who would rather plunge the knife into their own breast than suffer the Kantoists. Nostalgia is like going home; it's familiar and warm and full of good memories. It's a comfort-seeking coping mechanism, and I'm seeking comfort.

I have had, for a long time now, a desire to write three things. The first is a novelization of the Yū Yū Hakusho anime, with certain character dynamics fleshed out further than the series afforded. The second is a fanfiction sequel, focusing on the mundane adult lives of Team Urameshi. The third is a Boruto-esque fanfiction following the adventures of their children... though I will maintain until my dying breath that I conceived of the idea well before Boruto was ever a thing. If you've seen me posting in the Venting Thread, then you might know that this process is causing me a significant amount of duress. That's the purpose of this blog: to spare the Venting Thread my ostensibly unreasonable fixation on this series as I work through a massive project that is equal parts overwhelmingly difficult and utterly fulfilling.

What's the current project?

The story must be written in order, and so the first project is the novelization. To do this, I must first have a comprehensive script of the series. This involves me watching the anime a few seconds at a time, and typing up all the dialogue and action. Currently, the average is two pages of script per minute of anime; if this trend continues, the final script is expected to be over 4,800 pages long. (26 minutes per episode x 2 pages per minute x 93 episodes.) For reasons that will probably be highlighted in later blog entries, the final 19 episodes of this 112 episode series will not be included in the script. Currently, we're at 13 pages, and six-ish minutes into S1E1.

Index

To be added.

 
Please note: The thread is from 5 years ago.
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