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wen-kexing-apologist · 1 year

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On the Subject of Pat 2.0

Hello! It’s your resident 25 year old working their first job out of grad school with no family in the area and a friend group that is comprised mostly of people older than them here to talk about "Pat" Phakphum Tangwatthana another resident 25 year old working his first job out of grad school with no family in the area and a friend group that is comprised mostly of people older than him.

I have seen some confusion or distaste around Pat and Pat’s storyline in the most recent episode, and I understand the criticism around the editing needing to be tighter, but I do just want to talk about my own perceptions of Pat and why I didn’t need any more explicit explanations for his behavior than we already got.

It’s essay time :D

Pat and his emotions in Episode 9:

We start the episode on Pat’s point of view, cutting back to the previous evening and establishing Pat’s level of inebriation

Gif from @pharawee

Everything is ghosting and blurry and it is very clear that Pat was out of his head if not out of his body when he was having fun with Jeng on the dance floor. This is evidence enough as far as I am concerned that Pat had absolutely zero knowledge of Jeng’s dance floor confession. But what he does remember is learning Jeng is queer. Which as we are all aware, rocks his fucking world.

Now, I wrote in my previous timeline that narratively, Pat has never had the time to contemplate the sexuality of his boss. At the very beginning, he spills glass jelly on Jeng’s shoe and meets a kind and very attractive man, and then he just simps over this very Lorge Man for awhile while Jeng is actively trying to manage a crush on an employee because he understands would be a huge HR Violation if he were to try to pursue that thread. But Pat has been flirting hard, in ways that are obvious if you are queer and able to identify them, but less so if you are straight and don’t automatically look at the level of familiarity as flirting. However, we have to look at when, where, and how Pat and Jeng break their professionalism and where they maintain it.

Pat only initiates the break in professionalism when he is drunk and/or out of the office. His criticisms of Jeng he gives in the review? Drunk. His commentary about how when he first met Jeng he was nice and he is having a hard time reconciling that Jeng with micromanaging boss Jeng? Drunk. Hanging all over him and tugging at his shirt? Drunk. Hanging all over him and tugging at his shirt round 2? Drunk.

The rest Jeng initiates. He engineers the dinner in his office, he asks Pat to come over on Sunday to work, he suggests Pat get ready at his apartment, he suggests he and Pat share a hotel room, he asks Pat to accompany him to the furniture store, he calls the video of drunk!Pat cute, he asks Pat to go on the restaurant tour with him.

So, from this we know that Pat is aware enough of the office gossip and when in control of his mental faculties, is able to temper his feelings towards Jeng while at work. And that Jeng has been simping hard from the beginning, and Pat has been reciprocating the energy whenever Jeng starts the interaction.

But we also know that Pat has a difficult time handling his other emotions, especially while at work. Partially because he is young, partially because he is exploited, partially because he is almost certainly spending a lot of his time focusing on a) not having a meltdown and b) not hitting on his boss in front of his coworkers.

Anyway, the timeline of Pat’s immediate emotions around Jeng’s sexuality confession I have previously outlined so just keep that in mind while I continue to ramble about Pat in this episode.

Pat learns Jeng is gay, freaks out about it because Jeng is fully aware of everything Pat has been doing, and Pat is fully aware that Jeng has been intentionally flirting with him this whole time. Spirals about it in his dreams the whole night and wakes up hungover and having an existential crisis about what the fuck comes next for him.

He takes the day off, tries to give himself some space to think, process, reassess, and figure out his next steps. But instead…his Mom is in town, and in his kitchen, cooking him breakfast.

What is she doing here? He doesn’t know, it’s a surprise, and a good surprise because we know he has a good relationship to his parents, and you can tell that from the way he interacts with his mother. But a mother is going to mother, so she’s going to comment on his eating habits, and he’s going to lie about how often he eats instant noodles, and she’s going to check in on his health, having seen him absolutely plastered the previous evening, and she is going to ask about the very kind and handsome man that helped Pat home and made sure he was safe.

And she’s going to say a passing comment about Pat being a burden to his friend.

Which, looking at Pat’s face here, was not really what he wants to be hearing at this particular moment. Not when he is trying to get Jeng out of his head, not when he is trying to create space to figure out what he is feeling about that entire situation, the reality that he could have what he wants, the understanding that Jeng has been wise to Pat’s attraction to him this whole time. Not when he got in to that whole situation with Jeng last night because he was trying to distract himself from being sad about breaking up with Put. His parents live in another country, they have no idea what is going on in his life, his mother sees her son was out with a nice man and so has no reason to suspect something would have been wrong. So she stumbles right in to one of Pat’s sore spots.

“Where did you meet him?” she asks and Pat’s goes:

If anyone needs a live action shocked pikachu face, look no further. He knows he cannot tell her. He knows what it would sound like, what it would seem like, how inappropriate it would appear for him to say “I met him at work” and even more so if he has to say “that is my boss.”

He’s had the realization that Jeng is gay, and therefore that a relationship between Jeng and Pat is possible, and he is now having the realization of just how bad it would appear to literally anyone on the outside. Even now, even before they are dating, when they are just coworkers and friends, his mother knowing that he was out, late at night, that drunk around his boss??? Absolutely not. Pat recognizes that and quickly shifts the focus of the conversation away from Jeng, asking his mother about a doctor’s appointment she is supposed to be getting to.

Another outfit, and another day has passed. Pat is staring at the stuffed tiger that he got on his furniture -date- shopping trip with Jeng. A stuffed animal that he has been using as a replacement for the shark stuffed animal that he had when he was with Put and that Put has used to manipulate Pat into talking to him and into considering re-entering into a relationship with him. This tiger here is serving as both a reminder of Put, the fact that Pat was unable to love Put because of his feelings for Jeng, and as a reminder of Jeng, whose sexuality, level of availability, and messy HR potentiality are all front and center in Pat’s mind. So he hides the tiger away in a drawer where he doesn’t have to look at it, so that he isn’t faced with a constant reminder of the personal crises in his life, because he is young, and his parents are here, and he’s never experienced this particular combination of emotions before, and to talk to his parents about his dilemma he would have to explain this situation to his parents and I don’t think Pat believes he can talk to anyone about it. Because all of his friends besides Ae are friends from work, Jaab is Jeng’s brother, Jen and Jaab are going through it and Jen is quitting, Kanon was on the production team and Kanon is married to Ae so whatever Pat says to Ae may get back to Kanon pretty quickly. Chot is fully incorporated into the office life and is fully aware of what is going on (and in fact may think Pat and Jeng are much further ahead in their relationship than they are) but Pat thinks he’s being sly about his feelings for Jeng, and Chot being directly in the office rather than on an outside production team is not going to be a draw to talking about his feelings for his boss.

Meanwhile, Jeng is approaching the other queer in the office to ask if Chot has seen Pat cause he hasn’t been in the office in a few days and realizes that Pat is taking days off without even

notifying him. Readers, I do not need to show you Chot’s face throughout all of this. Chot is 150% convinced that Jeng and Pat are in the middle of a lover’s quarrel. I need a Chot live reaction to finding out that Pat and Jeng haven’t fucked yet, and a gravestone for Chot when he learns that Pat thought Jeng was straight.

Alright, so, Jeng is in his sad boy hours clearly pining after Pat in the office in front of Chot, but pushes that all back down in order to perform his necessary duties as a boss. Jeng too, is trying to keep control of his emotions, but will end up losing his grip of them and having an utter break down.

But this is not about Jeng, this is about Pat

Pat’s Mom is here, but she’s settled in, and Pat’s off work, so maybe now he has time to try to process some of his emotions?

Nope! Dad appears!

And what? Another surprise! Another parent coming to stay at his house without warning, and for what reason?

…

Oh.

Oh shit.

Pat has completely lost track of the passage of time. Which hey, works for Ae going from 0 to 30 weeks out of nowhere. Why does his Dad come to Thailand around this time every year?

It’s almost Pat’s birthday, and Pat has completely forgotten. This man has been juggling all of his work, a ton of his coworkers assignments, MLM schemes (the only mlm Pat is interested in is…nevermind), the Forge project, The Forge commercial shoot, leading the commercial shoot, his relationship with Put, his breakup with Put, navigating remaining professional in a workspace with his recent ex when emotions are still raw, and his mounting feelings for actually gay actually single hot boss man. On top of that, Pat is living alone, surviving off of ramen noodles, and (iirc) waiting to see if he makes it past the probationary period and is actually going to be allowed to stay on as an employee when that window is over. Jen is an adult, and not one Pat knows very well, Chot has his shit together and is engaged, Ae and Kanon are adults, married, and soon-to-be-parents, and Jaab is his age but is just as much if not more of a hot mess than Pat is. Pat gets convinced to go on that restaurant tour by Ae and their other friend, but those two are straight and therefore will not get what Pat is spiraling about after finding out Jeng is gay. So where can Pat go? Who can he turn to for advice? Who is going to have the time and the understanding and the patience to help him navigate all of these rising pressures?

Well, we get a good indication, of where that is heading because Pat’s dad takes one look at Pat’s utter shock at realizing that he has forgotten his own birthday and states:

Life must be pretty hard lately. His father is in the know, he’s gettin’ wise, gettin’ with it. It’s a great dynamic of Pat pretending to be fine for the sake of his mother, and then having no ability to hide from his father because the initial shock of the realization meant he wasn’t able to mask his emotional state.

He burns his ramen noodles, his father cooks for him. Gives him vegetables. Calls it like it is in Pat’s life even though he doesn’t have the full context.

Pat returns to work, and Chot starts doing his gay fairy godmother deal, vague-posting about what he thinks Pat’s problem is through the lens of his own issues. He knows Pat is young, and Pat is coming out of a relationship, and that Pat does not have a lot of guidance on the whole Being Gay in Thailand thing, despite being pretty comfortable in his sexuality and navigating his relationship with Put pretty maturely, if we’re honest. Chot is reaching out, Chot is extending the hand, Chot is trying to turn the tide of their relationship from just work friends to friends who can rely on one another in their personal life.

Now, Pat has been dissociating for the entire conversation thus far, because realizing he has forgotten his birthday because he’s been so caught up in everything has started his death spiral. When Jeng came out he tripped into it and was gripping at the edge of his remaining sanity by trying to give himself time and space to work through his emotions, but the arrival of his father and the understanding that he has not been thinking about himself for however long is what starts this final (and ultimately unsuccessful) attempt at managing his emotional state.

But Chot’s admission that being gay is hard for Krit, snaps Pat out of it a little bit, and we get Pat’s “At least he’s straightforward with showing you that he loves you” and now…Pat has not been paying a whole lot of attention to what Chot was saying, so this is either Pat being very good at processing information while dissociating, and/or Pat picking up on the part of the story that is most relevant to him and attaching his own frustrations with his current situation to it.

“At least he is straightforward with showing you that he loves you”

Okay, so let’s explore who this is about. That’s right. It’s about literally every possible romantic pursuit of his in the last few weeks/months. Put, MLM guy, and Jeng.

On the Put end of things, Put left Pat two years prior, valuing his job over his relationship with Pat while simultaneously struggling with his own queerness. When Pat and Put get back together, Pat pours his whole heart and soul into trying to make the relationship work. Because he needs it to work. Because he’s in love with his boss and he can’t be in love with his boss because that way madness (and job loss) lies. We do see moments of them being lovey-dovey, we see moments of flirtation, but the show is extremely intentional about showing that Pat and Put’s relationship is not a happy one. Put ignores Pat over dinner, that dinner scene where Put is mostly focused on his cellphone is dimly and cooly lit, with the tiniest smidge of warmth behind Pat and nothing anywhere close to Put.

They make out in a hotel and Pat asks if Put likes him, and Put does not give him an answer, he just flips the question back around on Pat. Pat doesn’t answer either, not at first, he just kisses Put, and then realizes that it doesn’t feel the way it used to, and whatever feelings he may have had for Put before are no longer there. Because he is in love with his boss. So he leaves Put and goes to the party to seek out the person he wants to be around/with. When Pat breaks up with Put he calls him out on his attempts to manipulate him. So Pat is sad about the break up, sure, and he is allowed to be. But he is also reconciling here with the fact that Put never showed interest in him, unless and until Pat was threatening to leave.

Then we get MLM guy, who is very forward in his interest with Pat. Pat is picking up what MLM guy is putting down (he thinks), and gets all excited about the prospect of having another Hot Tall Boi to channel his energy into so that he isn’t left to think about Jeng or Put’s return to Thailand. Pat is excited for the “date” and is devastated when it turns out this man wasn’t interested in him at all, he just wants him to join a multilevel marketing scheme. After which Pat is harassed at work and hounded by this man until he is literally threatened. So now Pat has to grapple also with the knowledge that the one person who seemed to be obviously, openly interested in him, was just using those emotions to get something out of him. Yet another manipulation. On the Jeng end of things, Jeng is forced to be subtle about his love for Pat by nature of the power imbalance inherent in a boss and employee relationship. Jeng has been intentionally engineering his romantic advances to have as much plausible deniability as possible. Which means, Pat, thinking that Jeng is straight, has not picked up on them. Or rather has convinced himself that Jeng wasn’t being intentional about making moves. If Jeng had been more obvious, had pursued him the way that Pat is used to being pursued, that is, more explicitly, if Jeng had even been more obviously queer, then Pat would have known immediately. But Pat has a luxury that Jeng and even Put do not, which is that him being clockable will not ruin his whole life the way that Put and Jeng as famous, prominent people would run the gauntlet if that information were to get out. Put says it himself in Episode 8: “A famous person like you might not be able to come out a lot, right?”

Jeng isn’t clockable as queer to the average person, and as Pat has been actively trying not to read into things, and has been trying to rein in his own horniness for Jeng, Jeng isn’t clockable to him either. SO…all of this to say that Pat feels that Put was not straightforward with their love, and that Jeng has been disguising all of his attempts at wooing Pat under a safety blanket of work. So Pat is feeling primarily hurt, lied to, and betrayed.

So, what we end up getting with Jeng is…manipulation. He has manipulated every situation to get Pat and him alone together, while at the same time not clueing Pat in to the fact that is what he was doing. While additionally not clueing Pat in to the fact he is gay. While also not clueing Pat into the fact that he’s Jaab’s brother until Pat literally walks into the middle of an interaction between Jaab and Jeng. While also not initially clueing Pat in to the fact he is Pat’s boss even after Jeng realized.

The past two people that Pat has been interested in have manipulated him over and over again.

His coworkers have manipulated him over and over again.

How else is Pat supposed to see Jeng not being explicit about his feelings? He’s being manipulated once again by Jeng not saying anything.

Chot lets Pat know that he can talk to him about anything, and Pat says “it’s ok, it’ll pass”.

Why is that relevant? CAUSE OF PARALLELS THAT COME LATER.

Anyway, Pat is giving an explicit invitation to talk about his feelings, and he brushes it off. Because Chot is an office friend in his office where his boss who he is having feelings about works, and Pat is very much oblivious to the fact that any gay within a 20 mile radius can see what is going on between Pat and Jeng. So he thinks he can’t be honest. Because that puts him and Jeng both in a sticky situation.

So he puts on a brave face, because he thinks that he can, because Jeng isn’t supposed to be in the office today. Because Chot told Pat that Jeng was out and Chot was covering. (Yet another reason why Pat may not want to talk to Chot about Jeng, Chot is literally acting as his boss right now). Because the thoughts Pat is having, the feelings that he is having, they are manageable so long as Pat does not have to face Jeng…

Except Jeng appears. On a day that he is most definitely not supposed to be here. They are at working, they are at work. Jeng does exactly what Pat has just indirectly told Chot he wishes someone would do.

He pulls a “boyfriend” and gives his jacket to his freezing love interest.

Now, is this something Jeng would do in the office? I fucking hope not. But currently, Jeng and Pat are sitting in the back of a dark room, with literally all the other queer people in the office. This is a safe space, this is a shelter. It’s why and how Jeng and Pat’s closeness has progressed in the most recent episodes. Because they have been away from the physical office space, around the straight and sometimes homophobic coworkers, and instead, on set with literally every gay boy known to Man. Jeng knows Chot knows, Jeng knows Jaab knows, having realized that Pat had no idea that he was gay, Jeng has decided he has been approaching things wrong, and gets bolder.

But, Pat has a) still not processed everything, b) is still oblivious to the fact that everyone around him knows exactly what is happening, c) is in the office, and d) is in the office with JENG who Pat was explicitly told would not be there. So you can imagine the stress he is under, and you can imagine with his track-record of manipulative men, that he is thinking very much that Jeng is playing with his emotions.

Because Jeng is playing with his emotions. Not intentionally. But Pat himself has never experienced this particular set of challenges before and Jeng is always on the brain. Pat’s emotional state is out of whack and it is at least 50% Jeng’s fault. Pat, again very maturely, hands that token of affection off to Chot, so that it will seem like nothing. So that it will read as nothing to anyone around him. Because Pat doesn’t know that they know.

Pat, who has still not had the opportunity to get the time and space that he needs from Jeng, because his parents are in town on an extended stay, because he had to go back to work eventually, because Jeng is now right there, once again does the mature thing, and walks away from the situation. He makes space.

Jeng follows after him, which again, makes it extremely obvious that Jeng is acting inappropriately close to Pat. But Jeng knows everyone in the room knows, which is why he can get away with it. But Pat just wants to be alone and Jeng is not letting him.

They retreat to an isolated corner. Where they have one of the juiciest conversations to date:

Jeng: “Did I make you uncomfortable in any way?’

Pat: “No, I’m just tired,”

Jeng: “Is it my fault?”

Pat: “No,”

Jeng: “I’m sorry”

Pat: “Why are you saying sorry to me, when I said it wasn’t your fault?”

Jeng: “You didn’t answer my text, ever since that day”

Pat: “Mr. Jeng, could you stop texting me? If it’s not work related. Don’t invite me to go eat. Don’t drop me off at home.”

And Pat says all of this without making eye contact with Jeng. When he finally does look up? He can see how devastated Jeng looks.

It confuses him in fact, to see this strong of an emotional reaction to Pat drawing these boundaries. Because, while Pat has not explicitly stated this yet, he thinks Jeng is fucking with him. This reaction is running very counter to what Pat is anticipating from this conversation.

So he has to say something else to fill the silence, and to soften the blow:

“Uh…I want to thank you. Thank you for everything. But please don’t do it again. Especially in front of everyone.”

“I can’t say no.”

And I take this two ways coming from Pat. First that Jeng being his boss puts Pat in the terrible situation of potentially not feeling comfortable saying no to Jeng. Because Jeng has power over Pat, even though we all know (or I at least hope based on this entire show so far) that Jeng is not the type of person that would take a personal vendetta out on Pat for rejecting his advances in the office”

Which is why I want to take a secondary lens to this conversation, and read that “I can’t say no” line as a double entendre. Jeng has let Pat know he is gay, Pat has placed all of their interactions into the context of that new information, Pat has realized that Jeng has been pursuing him this whole time. Pat realizes there may be reciprocated feelings involved. Pat tells Chot indirectly that he wants someone to be straightforward in their love. Jeng gives him the jacket. Pat has now been offered a much more clear admission from Jeng about his interest. Pat has feelings for Jeng. Pat has very strong feelings for Jeng. Pat hangs off of Jeng at every given opportunity the second he is out of his head. If Jeng pursues him, if Jeng is genuinely interested in him, if these feelings he has are reciprocated, and Jeng does not give Pat space. Pat will give in to his feelings and they will start an incredibly inappropriate workplace relationship.

Pat can’t say no because Jeng is his boss, and Pat can’t say no because he’s been DTF from the moment he laid his eyes on Jeng.

And again, I argue that Pat has actually been navigating this entire situation incredibly maturely. He removes himself from situations where he may be seen engaging in inappropriate workplace relations, and sets firm boundaries around what type of contact he and Jeng can have.

Pat tries to leave, Jeng pulls him back, wraps him in a hug, and does the thing Pat wishes people would do and is straightforward in his love for Pat:

Gif from @bellepark

Now here is where shit gets fun (read: terrible) for Pat emotionally. Because, ya know, he hasn’t already been dealing with enough shit. Pat sees Jeng: handsome, rich, successful, talented and cannot possibly fathom a reality where Jeng is actually in to him, a 25 year old in his first job, no wealth, no successful business ventures, who is feeling very much like the is untalented because of Chris’ mom on the commercial set. Jeng is everything, Jeng has everything, what could Pat possibly offer?

Gif from @bellepark

It legitimately does not compute. It is far, far simpler for Pat to assume that Jeng is fucking with him, toying with his emotions, possibly even trying to get Pat to admit to feelings so he can turn around and have him fired.

And If it is true that Jeng likes him, then how much has Jeng’s crush impacted his ability to accurately critique Pat? Was Pat only told that he was doing a good job by Jeng because Jeng had a crush? Was Pat given the commercial spot because Jeng had a crush? Is Pat even good at anything or does Jeng just want to fuck him and is therefore elevating his positions in order to leverage Pat’s growing importance to get Pat to do what he wants?

Pat has spent too much time lately being manipulated and being bullied and that is where he is coming from in his interaction with Jeng here. He is young, he does not understand what Jeng could possibly, legitimately want in a relationship with him, and if he lets himself believe that it makes sense for them to be together, then he will not be able to stop himself from getting in to a very dicey HR situation.

Jeng goes home, has a #hotgirlmeltdown and this is where I bring up the parallel that Pat told Chot “It’ll pass” and unfortunately for me Gaga has made it so that when I screenshot I get a black screen so I can’t capture the translation there. But I will just write it down:

“I can handle it…I think I can…I’m fine,”

It reminds me of Pat saying “it’s okay, it’ll pass”

Both of them are lying, but Pat was detached from his feelings when he lied whereas Jeng is consumed by his.

But this is not about Jeng, this is about Pat so we are gonna cut to Jen’s going away party.

Pat is wearing the same outfit as when Jeng confessed and Pat rejected Jeng so we know that Pat is coming in to this party riding a massive emotional wave, and trying to temper that storm. Because he doesn’t have time to process that right now, because this is Jen’s party, and because Ae sees Jen sulking and hands Pat the responsibility of talking with him:

Pat is gonna have to compartmentalize whatever feelings he is having to go handle Jen’s emotional state.

The significant beats I picked up on in this conversation with Jen are the following:

Pat saying he wished he had a home in another province to go back to

Jen saying it is a safe zone for him

Pat having the reality of being able to run away from his problems immediately crushed by Jen saying that he cannot pursue his dreams back home because everything is in Bangkok

Pat having the reality of being able to run away from his problems crushed again when Jen says “Well, everything is here and look at how bad it is”

Jen brushes off his own feelings and asks Pat how he is doing, and here is the crucial part. Huge shout out to @lurkingshan for pointing this out in a conversation we had last night. Jen is quitting. Jen is no longer a coworker to Pat. Pat has someone who is gay, who is no longer going to be involved in company business, and who is moving home to another province and therefore Pat can feel comfortable being honest because Jen is about to become very detached from his world.

“I don’t know, I’m very confused,” Pat says. And this is the first time he has voiced an emotion since he told Jeng he was sad about his break up with Put.

“Is it Mr. Jeng?”

Pat has his shit rocked by Jen asking him about Jeng so casually, like it is no big deal, like he is In The Know. Pat has really been operating under the assumption that no one could tell he had a crush on Jeng.

“These two brothers are the same” Jen gets it. Jen is telling Pat he gets it, and he’s telling Pat that neither Jeng nor Pat have been slick.

“I don’t know, it’s like he’s playing with my feelings,”

And I know this line may be a point of confusion for some people, because we know that Jeng is being sincere. We know, as an audience, how much of a fucking simp Jeng is for Pat. Jeng would crawl on his hands and knees for Pat. Jeng would almost certainly renounce his family and his title and his wealth for Pat. And if we didn’t get that from the last eight episodes, we are explicitly told how much Jeng likes Pat immediately before this scene. Pat consumed every waking thought in Jeng’s head. WE know this. Pat does not.

Pat thinks Jeng is playing with his feelings because of what I outline earlier re: all the manipulation Pat has been through recently with MLM guy, with Put, and with the situations Jeng has manipulated to get them alone together.

Pat believes Jeng is too good to be true, because he’s moved past the stage in the office job where he was so burnt out, stressed out, and exploited that every piece of constructive criticism felt like a personal attack. Pat isn’t angry at his workplace anymore, and therefore isn’t channeling his rage at Jeng anymore, and therefore isn’t focusing on Jeng’s flaws anymore, and as a result thinks Jeng reciprocating Pat’s feelings is too good to be true. Also because Pat doesn’t trust himself. Pat doesn’t see the parts of himself that Jeng sees. Pat doesn’t know why Jeng would like hin because Pat doesn’t understand the ways in which Pat brings life and joy and play in to Jeng’s otherwise extremely serious, almost entirely work-related life.

But Jen will not let Pat have that. Jen is older, Jen is wiser, Jen is an outside, relatively neutral third party where Pat and Jeng are concerned (Jaab is a whole ‘nother story). Jen can understand where and how Jeng and Pat are good for each other, and as a result he is quick to tell Pat not to sell himself short.

And he gives one of the most important pieces of advice that he can give to Pat is that if Jeng truly likes him, he’d find a way to tell Pat.

This singular piece of advice is going to save their relationship I tell you.

Whatever hope, whatever resolve that Pat has to navigate this storm. To figure out if Jeng actually likes him, if Jeng will do something that convinces Pat that he’s serious is crushed the instant Chot tells Pat that Jeng resigned.

Now, those of us in the workforce should be screaming “FUCK YEAH!” because Jeng is taking the responsible adult route by stepping away from his role as boss. Which, if Pat and Jeng were to get together would eliminate any conflict of interest, and if Pat and Jeng weren’t to get together would eliminate any fears Pat would have about Jeng a) harassing him b) firing him or c) retaliating for Pat’s previous rejection.

But…to Pat?! Well, he’s just ruined Jeng’s life. Jeng quit his job, from the company that he built. Pat understands that between Jeng’s position and Pat’s position, Pat is by far the more replaceable of the two. This is Jeng’s family’s company. Pat has realized that he fucked up. Pat is realizing that Jeng is not overstepping boundaries because he is trying to harass Pat, but because he has genuine feelings because the second Pat said to keep it work-only Jeng up and fucking left so that Pat wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him around.

Pat is thinking, Pat is contemplating, Pat is dissociating, and as he goes to wander like a zombie back to his house at the end of the day, SURPRISE Happy Birthday, Pat! Mr. Jeng baked you a cake!

AND THIS IS A LOT TO PROCESS CONSIDERING THAT PAT FORGOT HIS OWN BIRTHDAY! But Jeng remembered, and Jeng made something for him. I would love to go on and on and on and on about the lighting in this scene, but this write up is, as usual, far far longer than I anticipated, and a lot of the lighting details were covered in this phenomenal post by @istanchan

So we are just gonna go with the major take away from this scene. The flame is ignited between Pat and Jeng, Jeng is out of focus, and when Pat blows out the candles, extinguishing the flame, Jeng comes in to focus. Pat is now forced to face his feelings about Jeng, in a way he has been desperately trying to suppress for however long of a time frame this episode covers.

Pat goes home, yet again dissociating because the second that he reattaches his consciousness to his body he knows its fucking over.

And at this point, Pat has exhausted all avenues. He tried to get over his initial crush on Jeng by dating Put, and realized that he was not actually interested in that relationship. He tried to give himself distance and time to process his emotions immediately following the coming out incident, and was interrupted by his mother, he tried to brush off his feelings in the hope that they would pass, he returned to work and tried to get back into the groove of things under the safe assumption that Jeng would not be there, only to have Jeng show up. He asked Jeng to keep their interactions work related only to have Jeng hug him and tell him he really likes him, he started to have a conversation about his feelings with the only person who would understand, who is about to leave the province, and he maybe is feeling a bit better, and certainly more resolved. We can tell that also in the way that Pat approaches Jeng’s office after his talk with Jen, only to have the rug pulled out from under him with the update that Jeng has resigned.

He has tried and tried and tried to get over Jeng. He has tried and tried and tried to convince himself that Jeng can’t actually possibly like him back. This man has tried. And he can’t take it anymore. He sits down, his parents sing him happy birthday, they immediately pick up on the fact that Pat isn’t doing well, and they ask the fateful question:

And this is the first time Pat has really had to sit and process everything. This is the point where he settles down, both exhausted and having exhausted all other options…and everything hits at once.

“This is the year I forgot my own birthday” my life has been so busy and chaotic I have fully lost track of time (starting a new job, being exploited at new job, getting new boss, getting micromanaged by new boss, being hate crimed at work by my coworkers, best friend gets pregnant, working to get Forge client secured, trying to do 90% of the labor in a one sided relationship with Put, filming Forge commercial and trying to convince the Forge people that he is competent)

“I even forgot that you’d come back to see me every year,” I am a bad child for forgetting my parents would come to visit.

“It’s like I focused on everything except myself,” I have been avoiding my own feelings and focusing on others (i have been suppressing my feelings for Jeng, I have been trying to put those feelings elsewhere, I poured all my energy in to work and in to the MLM guy and in to Put)

“But I don’t know how to deal with this feeling,” I have tried fucking everything I know to manage my emotional state, which I know is already a weak spot of mine and something I am actively working on and nothing I have tried has brought me even remotely close to working through these emotions.

His parents immediately jump in to help, but the problem is Pat without context is not making a ton of sense, and the only thing they really have to latch on to is “I don’t know how to deal with this feeling” and his parents give him a hard truth.

“You can’t escape anywhere.”

It was something that Pat started to realize in his conversation with Jen, when he told Jen he wished he had a house to escape to, and Jen reminded him that he could have no dreams there. But Jen is heartbroken and fleeing from the bad things in his life, so it hits a little different when Pat’s parents, who he loves, who seem to generally have their lives together, who are divorced but still clearly get along, who love and care for one another despite no longer being married, and who are emotionally very mature, and shining examples to Pat of how to navigate emotional turmoil look right at him and say “you can’t escape this feeling,”

And Pat has a breakdown.

Which, in my opinion, makes complete and total sense and is incredibly justified considering everything that he has been through in recent months. Everything that he has been trying to navigate and manage while he is alone in another country, away from his family, with no friends to talk to because of the ways they are connected to him.

And doesn’t it just suck that you finally have the people who have supported you all your life look right at you and be unable to do anything but hold you through your tears. Physically he has support, but there is no way out of these emotions but through them.

This is the release, and he still has a lot of shit to sort out, but he’s had a good cry and he’s ready to press on. He goes shopping with Ae, and while he does still seem distracted, he is doing better, he is participating in conversation rather than fully dissociating, he is teasing her (“can i have that cake?”) so he is moving more towards a point of equilibrium. Ae has her baby, makes him an uncle, and that is enough to shake Pat out of the depression spiral he has been in because look at the amazing miracle of life he has just witnessed.

He returns home from another chaotic and exhausting evening (helping his bestie deliver her baby on the back of a bus #casual) and finds a package waiting for him.

An incredibly well utilized in-universe ad, of a snack Pat mentioned he liked once, in passing, months ago to Jeng. Jeng has always paid attention to Pat, and I don’t know how much attention Pat has allowed himself to pay to Jeng that would get him to realize that. It’s the aspect of this whole thing that Pat has not been ready or willing to acknowledge. Because the second he realizes that Jeng is gay, the depth of Jeng’s engagement and focus on Pat becomes a lot more clear.

Pat find the happy birthday note from Jeng and collapses on to the bed surrounded by the snacks to think about things.

To think, in particular, about what Jen said about Jeng finding ways to show he cares if he is serious.

It cuts to Jeng, who is being driven to the brink of madness, who has been trying to maintain distance, but needs more than life itself to let Pat know that he is serious. It has been days, days at least since he has last spoken to Pat, and he cannot stop thinking about the final thing Pat said to him “Why do you like me, it doesn’t make sense,”

Jeng sends this message

And the episode ends before we see Pat get that text. I am very excited to see his reaction when he reads that, surrounded by wasabi peas.

Now, maybe I am way way overanalyzing all of this because I will always come to Pat’s defense, maybe I am trying to convince people that if you just follow the lines and the lights and the body language everything you need to understand Pat is right there because there are so many parts of Pat that live in me, (though many that don’t), maybe I am blind to where the gaps in this episode rest when it comes to how they wrote Pat’s story, but I didn’t need more explicitly stated moments for Pat leading up to this breakdown because, well…

It makes sense to me.

(thank you to anyone who made it to the end, I recognize this is a long post even for me, haha oopsie. I would be unsurprised if I hit 10 hours total of work on this post between screen-shotting, double checking scenes, and writing it)

#step by step #step by step the series #step by step analysis post #step by step meta #step by step discussion #jengpat #manben #ben bunyapol #man trisanu #dee hup house #jeng x pat #gonna have to start getting an editor on my posts or something to tone them down #damn #at least y'all are well trained in reading lots of text a la fanfiction style #maybe i can fool you in to reading this whole thing

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ohwaitwhatdamn · 5 months

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Dear Andrea,

The aftermath zzzzzz ...... Of writing a paper and it's now after midnight. What the fuck were you thinking about getting a second Master's degree? Maybe it is worth it for me to get As. Maybe I'm good at it because of the As.

If only I would've have known about the ADHD ages ago - hah.

#sleepy queer #grad school blues round 2 #master of science in clinical mental health counseling #actual ADHD #hyperfocus powers activate

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karmic-vibes · 2 years

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The Doctor Nurse is In

one-shot inspired by this prompt, ft steve w glasses. enjoy.

cw: drug and alcohol use, vomit/general symptoms of being hungover

wc: 1.9k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

———————————————————————

Steve had dreamed of being a nurse for as long as he could remember. Growing up, he’d tell everyone who would listen about his aspirations, and people always told him to dream bigger.

“A smart, handsome man like you shouldn’t be a nurse. Try for doctor!”

“Have you considered getting a Ph.D instead?”

“Why nurse? It’s a job for chicks!”

Regardless of what he was told, he never listened. He stuck to his hopes and dreams, committed to four years of undergrad, and was now finishing up his clinicals.

During his rotations, he fell in love with emergency medicine, despite initially wanting to go into neurology.

Now, here he was. A fresh grad, finishing up clinicals before officially going for his R.N., and suffering through a rotating schedule, landing him doubles every other weekend.

In terms of Indiana hospitals, Hawkins Memorial was the best-of-the-best. People were shipped in from all over the state to be treated by their staff in all departments. It didn’t help that they were the only trauma hospital for miles, meaning all the chaos that went down in Indianapolis on the weekends got shipped up to them.

As Steve sat at the intake desk, completing some unfinished reports from the first half of the shift, dreaming of none other than his bed and pillow, he heard the 800-EMS radio go off. He slightly turned his head, paying half attention to it—another drunk was on their way in. He rolled his eyes, pushed his glasses further up on his nose, before resting his chin in his hand.

He began to doze off mid-report before Dr. Nancy Wheeler ran over to him, urging him into the trauma room. Steve shot up, stumbled out of his seat, and followed her down the hall.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.

“You know that band that was performing at the Dome tonight?”

“I don’t necessarily know who they are, but yeah, I know there was a performance tonight. Why?”

“Well…” She slid open the door to find a half-conscious rockstar on the stretcher. “He’s out of his mind on god-knows-what and his agent was saying how he bit a bat during his performance.”

“What‽”

“Mhmm.”

“I… what?”

“Mmm…” The patient groaned, slowly stirring awake.

“We pushed twenty of narcan, so he’s slowly coming to.”

“You seem to have this covered… why do you need me?”

“Well, you’re babysitting him until he wakes up. Make sure he doesn’t choke on vomit or stop breathing or anything like that.”

“Uh… okay…”

“And I wanted to further prove your theory of only drunkards coming in on the weekends,” Dr. Wheeler smirked. “Call me if you need me. Security will be right outside the door. Let me know when he wakes up.”

“Can I at least go get my reports I need to finish?”

“I’ll have Joyce drop them off on her next set of vital rounds.”

“That’s not for another hour!” Steve whined.

“Watch him, Harrington. That’s an order.”

“Yes, doc,” Steve sighed, sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair. He leaned over to glance at the patient’s bracelet. “Edward J. Munson. Well, Edward, we’re about to be buddy-buddy for the next seven hours,” Steve muttered to himself.

Steve sat back, watching the saline slowly drip in the chamber. He occasionally counted Eddie’s breaths by watching his chest rise and fall—god, he hated babysitting duty.

During Joyce’s next vitals round, she handed Steve his bundle of paperwork. He clicked his pen and continued where he left off. Joyce raised a brow at Steve before directing her attention to Edward.

“How’s he doing?” she asked.

“He’s fine—just drunk and probably high,” Steve mumbled, glaring at his papers. “Do you have the last set of vitals for room three?”

“Yeah, here.” She handed her notebook over to the boy.

“Thanks, Joycie, you’re my savior.”

“Hmm, I’m sure I am, Stevie,” she teased.

“How’s Will? Doing okay in school?” Steve asked, trying to make polite conversation.

“Yeah, he’s doing fine. Struggling a bit with making new friends.”

“Why? He’s such a sweet kid.”

“People keep teasing him, saying he’s gay, and ugh, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sorry, Joyce… that can’t be easy on him.”

“It’s okay. He’s a strong boy, he’ll make his way through it.” She sighed before taking Edward’s blood pressure. “Ready for his vitals?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Steve clicked his pen.

“Heart rate is one-twenty, blood pressure is one-ten over seventy-two, and respirations are–”

“Twelve, I know that one. Thanks, Joyce. I hope things get better with Will.”

“You and me both, sweetie. See you in two hours.”

“See ya.”

Steve poured his attention back into his mountain of paperwork for another hour or so before he heard Edward stir in his bed. He slowly blinked before muttering complete nonsense to himself.

“Morning, sunshine,” Steve said, scribbling down the time he woke up. He slid open the trauma room door and leaned against the doorframe. “Can you get Dr. Wheeler down here, please?” he asked the security guard.

“On it,” he said.

“Yer cute,” Edward chortled. He tilted his head, making it glaringly obvious he was checking out Steve’s ass in his scrubs.

“Mr. Munson–”

“Uck, so formal. Call m’Eddie,” he mumbled.

“Eddie, how’re you feeling?” Steve walked over and took his pulse.

“Better now th’I have a cute doctor to look at.”

“I’m not a doctor.”

“A nurse! Even better,” he chuckled.

“So, Eddie, do you remember what happened tonight?”

“Hehe,” he giggled to himself.

“Eddie?”

“I did some stuff.”

“What stuff?” Steve sighed in frustration.

“Drank some beer, did some drugs.”

“What kind of drugs?”

“Hmm,” he hummed.

“No judgement. What’d you take?”

“I dunno, dude,” he whined. “Will you go out with me?”

“No.”

“C’mon, cutie, go out w’me.”

“Sorry, I don’t go out with people who have rabies. It’s my best friend’s number one fear.”

“I have rabies…” Eddie‘s jaw dropped, drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. His pupils were still blown from whatever he took, and his eyes were glossed over.

“No, you don’t have rabies,” Dr. Wheeler said.

“Maybe, we’re still running some tests,” Steve added.

“You probably don’t have rabies,” she corrected. “Mr. Munson, I’m Dr. Nancy Wheeler, I’ll be your physician for the evening.”

“Why’s everyone so goddamn formal,” he scoffed. “‘m Eddie, pretty lady!”

“Yeah, you have fun with him, Stevie. Thanks for letting me know he’s awake. Let me know if anything else major happens.”

“Wait, I’m still stuck watching him‽”

“Yes, you are. Call me if anything changes.”

“Ugh,” Steve huffed, running his hands through his hair.

“You’re so mean, Steeevie,” Eddie snickered. Steve rolled his eyes before returning to his seat. “‘s okay, jokes on you, I’m very much attracted to evil.”

“I’m not evil,” Steve said.

“Whatever y’say, big boy.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Y’hear me,” Eddie hiccuped. “So why won’t you go out with me?”

“I already told you.”

“But why,” Eddie whined.

“One, you’re not sober. Two, you probably have rabies. Three, you’re my patient. It’s not happening.” Eddie started laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Y’never said that ‘m not your type.”

“I… what?”

“I’m your type,” he teased.

“Please,” Steve scoffed, pink tinting his cheeks. “You have no idea what my type even is.”

“Yeah, I do. ‘s me.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed contently.

Steve ignored Eddie laughing to himself and went back to his paperwork. Eddie was moved to a regular E.R. treatment room shortly after, still needing Steve to babysit him. Around five in the morning, Steve managed to get all caught up on his patient care reports, and Eddie was in a deep sleep. He just had to ride out the last two dreadful hours of his shift.

Right around six, Eddie started to stir awake, moaning and groaning for something to throw up into. Steve rushed to hand him the basin on his bedside table. As Eddie spewed his insides into the pale pink bucket, Steve grabbed onto his hair, pulling it back into a bun.

“Thanks,” Eddie whimpered, spitting out some bile.

“No problem,” Steve said.

Eddie went back to heaving as Steve gently rubbed his back, trying desperately to soothe him. After five never-ending minutes, Eddie flopped onto his back, heaving, trying desperately to catch his breath.

“You okay?” Steve whispered, dampening a washcloth.

“Mm, been better,” Eddie groaned.

“C’mere.”

Steve gently held his chin in his hands as he cleaned up the vomit from the rockstar’s face. Eddie faintly smiled at him as a silent token of gratitude.

“Thanks…”

“Mhmm.”

Steve picked up the basin and threw it into the biohazard bin before removing his gloves and washing his hands. He ripped a few paper towels from the machine and leaned onto the counter.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Mm, I’m sure. Wanna tell me what you took last night?”

“Lord, I dunno. Some coke, some molly, and a joint… maybe two.”

“Fun night?”

“You could say that,” Eddie smirked.

“Do you know if the weed was laced with anything?”

“I know one had traces of fent or morphine. I dunno which one.”

“That explains why the narcan worked,” Steve sighed. “And to drink?”

“Dude, I dunno, I lost count. A lot.”

“And the bat?”

“That what?” Eddie mumbled.

“People said you bit into a bat.”

“Who the fuck told you that?”

“The doctor I work under and your manager-agent person.”

“No, I didn’t bite into a fucking bat. I’m sure I said I did, but I was so high, nothing I was saying was true.”

“Gotcha…”

Steve took a deep sigh as the words rang in his ears.

Nothing I was saying was true.

Did he not think Steve was cute? Did he not want to go out with Steve? Sure, Steve shot him down each time, but for once—since high school—someone found him desirable. He felt wanted.

Eddie quickly pulled Steve out of his thoughts by snapping and waving in his face.

“Hello?” Eddie raised a brow. “Earth to Stevie?”

“Yeah, sorry, what?”

“Nothing, you just zoned. Can I get some water?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. You want ice too?”

“Ice would be nice,” he smiled.

“I’ll be right back.”

Steve finished out his shift, handed care of Eddie over to the next person doing their clinical rotation and went home to his sweet, sweet bed. Two days later, he was back in the hospital for his next set of shifts—this time, however, they were during the week and during the day.

He had never been more relieved.

No more drunkards. No more babysitting. No more Eddie.

When his shift ended that fateful Wednesday night, he made his way out to his car to find a familiar face leaning against the driver’s side door, puffing away at a cigarette.

“Hey!” He cheered, throwing his cigarette to the asphalt.

“Uh… hi? Wh-What are you doing here, Eddie?”

“I wanted to apologize and say thanks… y’know, for Sunday night.”

“Oh, it was no problem. Literally just my job.” Steve nodded and stuck his hands in his scrub pockets.

“Can I buy you a drink? Just as a thank you—i-it doesn’t need to mean anything.”

“Y’know, a drink right now sounds lovely. Lead the way, Munson.”

“My pleasure, big boy.” Steve froze in his tracks, staring blankly at Eddie. “Don’t think I forgot everything from last night, Stevie.” He winked before opening the passenger door to his jet-black corvette for Steve. “After you, cutie.”

———————————————————————

taglist: @steviesbicrisis

a/n: may make a part two. not too sure yet. anyways, hope y’all enjoyed!

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie st4 #eddie stranger things #gay #st4 #lgbtq #lgbt pride #steddie #joe kerry #joseph quinn #joyce byers #winona ryder #will byers #noah schnapp #netflix #nurse Steve Harrington #rockstar eddie munson

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scribefindegil · 2 years

Text

Low-Spoons Bread Recipe

Hallo friends! Yesterday I was singing the praises of bread-baking, which I know is something a lot of people find scary and intimidating. But fear not! I promise it’s easier than you think, and with this Bread Lore you too can bake delicious loaves whenever you want! If you are confused or have questions, please let me know and I will try to help!

I love this recipe/method, which comes from the book “Artisan Bread In Five Minutes A Day” by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois. Does it sound kind of gimmicky? Yes! Does it work? Friend, this recipe is a solid 30% of how I fed myself during grad school. It’s also one of the few things I can consistently make since I got cursed with ME/CFS in February. If I can stagger into the kitchen and use a measuring cup, I can make bread.

This is a no-knead dough that keeps in the fridge for up to a week. Over the course of the week, whenever you want bread you can tear off a hunk of dough and bake it! I find this recipe makes approximately two big loaves, a cookie sheet’s worth of focaccia, four personal pizzas, or eight dinner rolls.

You Will Need:

Flour (all-purpose)

Active Dry Yeast (available in jars and packets in the baking aisle)

Salt (table salt is fine)

Water

Measuring cups & spoons

A big mixing bowl

A lid for the mixing bowl, or some aluminum foil to cover it

To Make The Dough

Get out your big mixing bowl.

Add 3 cups of lukewarm water. It should feel warm, not hot, if you put a drop on the inside of your wrist. If you use very hot water, you could kill the yeast. If you use cold/cool water, the recipe will work but it will take longer to rise.

Stir in 1 tablespoon of table salt OR 1 1/2 tablespoons of sea or kosher salt. Table salt has much finer grains, so you get a lot more salt per spoon than you do with coarse-grained salts.

Stir in 1 1/2 tablespoons (2 packets) of yeast.

Now add 6 1/2 cups of flour. To measure the flour, use a big spoon to scoop in into the cup and then level off the top with the flat side of a bread knife. This keeps the flour from being too tightly packed, which will throw off your measurements.

Mix it all up with a wooden spoon until all the flour is incorporated.

Congrats! You have made dough!

Now cover the bowl with its lid or with a lid of aluminum foil. At this point, you can put it in the fridge until you’re ready to bake! If you want to bake imminently, you can also let it rise at room temperature for two hours (though it is easier to work with if it’s cold).

(Instructions for turning this dough into various Breads under the cut!)

To Bake a Focaccia (easiest & extremely delicious)

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees

Use olive oil to grease a cookie sheet or a large cast-iron skillet

Oil your hands. Tear off a chunk of dough. About 1/3 of the recipe will fill a 12-inch skillet; when making it on a cookie sheet I usually use about half the dough, though you can use the whole thing if you’re baking for a crowd.

(This will make the bread Prettier but tbh it’s fine if you don’t do it) Fold the dough in on itself and stroke the surface like you are petting a small animal until it forms a smooth ball.

Press the dough into a sheet of relatively even thickness in your pan.

Let the dough rise for about 20 minutes while you wait for the oven to finish preheating.

When the oven is hot, poke the dough all over with clean fingers to make little dimpled hollows. Drizzle it with olive oil and sprinkle on some coarse salt, black pepper, and any herbs you want (I love rosemary and oregano!)

Bake for 20-30 minutes until golden brown

To Bake A Pizza

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees

Oil your hands. Tear off a chunk of dough (about 1/4 of the dough is a good size for a personal pizza).

Put the dough on an oiled countertop and use a rolling pin or empty bottle to roll it out as thinly as you can. If you feel like the dough is fighting you, let it relax for five minutes and then try again.

Transfer the round of dough to an oiled cookie sheet (you can use your hands to help stretch it out more thinly when you pick it up if you want)

Add your toppings of choice

Once the oven is hot, bake for 15-25 minutes until the crust is golden brown and cooked through and the toppings are bubbly

To Bake A Big Beautiful Boule (with steam!)

Note: For various Science Reasons, bread cooks much better when there is steam in the oven. A lot of recipes encourage you to bake inside a closed Dutch oven, but I find it difficult & scary to get the dough in there since you have to preheat the Dutch Oven as well. Another method (described here) is to have a roasting pan or skillet in the bottom of the oven and throw ice cubes (probably safest) or water (what I do) in there right as you put the bread in the oven. If you don’t do this your bread will still be fine! But you won’t get as nice a crust and your loaf may not expand as well. It’s up to you. Follow your heart.

Place a roasting pan, cookie sheet, or cast-iron skillet on the bottom rack of the oven. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Dust your hands with flour. Tear off a chunk of dough (whatever size you want; I usually go with about half the recipe)

(This will make the bread Prettier but don’t stress about it) Continuing to dust with flour if things get sticky, fold the dough in on itself and stroke the surface like you are petting a small animal until it forms a smooth ball.

Place your Dough Orb onto a cookie sheet dusted with flour or cornmeal. Let it rise for 45 minutes.

When the oven is hot, dust your orb with more flour. Then use a bread knife to cut several deep slashes through the loaf. This will help it expand as it cooks! Plus it looks beautiful.

To use steam: Get about half a dozen ice cubes and put them in a measuring cup. Put your bread in the oven, then immediately pour the ice cubes onto the roasting pan you put on the lowest rack and shut the door. Don’t peek at the bread until at least 15 minutes have passed to keep the steam inside the oven.

Bake for about 30-40 minutes, until the crust is nice and dark and the loaf sounds hollow if you rap on the bottom

To Bake Dinner Rolls

Place a roasting pan, cookie sheet, or cast-iron skillet on the bottom rack of the oven. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Dust your hands with flour. Divide the dough into eight equal portions.

For each portion of dough: Continuing to dust with flour if things get sticky, fold the dough in on itself and stroke the surface like you are petting a small animal until if forms a smooth ball. Place the roll onto a cookie sheet dusted with flour or cornmeal.

Let them rise for about 30 minutes.

When the oven is hot, dust your rolls with more flour. Then use a bread knife to make a deep slash through each roll.

Bake for about 20 minutes, until the crust is nice and dark and a roll sounds hollow if you rap on the bottom

For extra deliciousness, brush the rolls with melted butter as soon as you take them out of the oven.

More Ideas

Try adding a handful of fresh or dried herbs when making the dough

Roll out small amounts of dough very thin and cook them in a hot skillet on the stovetop to make pitas

Make a filled bread by rolling dough out into a sheet and adding cheese, pesto, or another filling of your choice, then rolling the dough up in a spiral

Knead cheese, olives, or diced ham into the dough before shaping

Once you have a recipe that you’re comfortable with, bread is infinitely adaptable!

Happy baking!

#BREAD LORE

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dangerously-human · 4 months

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Still fighting for my life with tuition benefit stuff, in case anyone was wondering. I would like to submit my request for this semester, but we're still duking it out over last semester because of a problem from over a year ago and I don't want to swing at two hornet nests at once, so. Took every single dollar out of my savings account to pay tuition for this semester and am just praying I can get reimbursed before another rent check needs to go out (and Lord willing, my car won't need massive repairs at inspection this year). I'm doing an actual research study for my mixed methods class this semester, and the professor keeps saying she's fine with giving us an incomplete so we have another year to wrap it up in order to actually get something meaningful out of it. I finally talked to her last night to explain that I cannot afford to take another incomplete and ask how I could do a legitimate study on such a condensed timeline. Thankfully she was understanding and came up with an idea I think will work, since it involves basically just doing the quantitative portion under an existing protocol at work and a qualitative portion that doesn't count as human subjects research, so I don't have to deal with an IRB pissing contest between institutions, nor the debatable ethics of collecting data without compensating people for their time, given that it's unfunded research (and I really can't afford to pay people out of pocket when I'm already paying through the nose to be in this class in the first place). I'm still reworking my research plan, but I do feel a lot better about this in comparison to my plan as of last week, which would have required either submitting to both IRBs (and my work IRB is notorious for having different standards than most, and they/the data lawyers that often end up getting involved move slowly in this kind of situation) or submitting twice to my university IRB, once per phase.

Anyway, dealing with all of this today had me looking at what I really have left to do before I graduate. I'm halfway through the program now, though it feels like I've done way more. After I'm done with this class, which meets my advanced methods requirement (although round 2 of statistics probably did too), I have to eventually go back and take the foundations of the program course that was a scheduling conflict my first semester and somehow hasn't been offered since; another research apprenticeship (I'll probably write another manuscript, ideally one that's already been in progress for a bit at work - if I can get a loan, maybe I can do that this summer with my brief report I'm first authoring); plus two electives, which I was hoping to concentrate on measure design but would also happily do more advanced statistics courses if I'm allowed to take them through the school of psychology (I've tapped out the school of ed on that score). I guess I should ask if I'm allowed to say my job counts as an internship, which from the course catalog it looks like it should, but idk. Theoretically that puts me graduating... fall '25? Maybe? I could go so much faster if it weren't for the financial aspect. I do have to meet with an advisor at some point, but I still don't have one at the moment (again), which really seems like a problem for future me to figure out. But future me before May, because I think I'm still recorded as supposed to graduate this semester, even though it's been clear from the beginning that I was not a full-time student. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

They really do make this grad school thing as complicated as possible, don't they?

#personal #grad life gazette

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sodacansculptures · 6 months

Note

I started following you on Facebook some years ago, and then apparently forgot all about your stuff. It just popped into my head randomly and I wanted to see if you're still active and if you're still making soda can sculptures?

Hi, I apologize, I have no idea when you sent this since Tumblr (at least mobile) doesn't have time stamps, and for whatever reason, I don't get notifications about messages. You're the first person I've heard who has migrated from my Facebook page to my Tumblr, so thank you for joining the blog! Way more commentary here than there where my mom can see.

To answer your question succinctly: I am alive, and that's about the best I can say I've been since covid.

(I have donation links at the bottom, if you feel moved to want to help me.)

The extended director's cut answer:

After I made the Eevee sculpture, grad school ramped up and I figured I'd return to sculpting after I got my degree and settled into a job. However, I graduated in Spring of 2020, so the job I had lined up was withdrawn, and with all the budget cuts and layoffs in my field, I was competing for jobs with people who were trying to reenter the field and had decades more experience than me.

I did 100+ applications (I lost count at 120-something), dozens of interviews (including getting to the final round of all that had such a format--which is a stupid format. You don't need to meet me in a formal pretense 3 times, ask me riddles, have me take multiple hour-long aptitude tests, plus make me travel on my own dime just to tell me "no" and not even send like a "2nd Place Loser" gift basket or accept my LinkedIn request or anything). I got super stressed and super depressed.

I was so busy with trying to find a job and trying to deal with the breakdowns of not finding one. I tried applying in all the fields I was capable of at all levels: executive, mid, and gruntwork. I was turned down from entry level, no-talent-necessary jobs because I was overqualified. I was turned away from the others because of the lack of experience and unprecedented level and caliber of competition.

I was (still am) unable to pay my bills and, when not having breakdowns, I was calling, emailing, filling out applications, etc. for any and all financial aid. It was very arduous work and tedious with all the documentation they wanted from me, hold times on the phone, etc.

I had a non-profit (ADVOCAP) laugh at me when I asked for rent help because apparently they were overwhelmed and I wasn't going to get anything as I didn't have a job or kids and was considered a non-priority. Later when I was working with the ADRC, I asked if my case manager (I applied for disability, but I'll explain in a bit) if she knew of any rent help. She basically scolded me for asking and told me that it was unethical of me to seek that because "that's for people who actually have a chance." People who have jobs, she means. She explained that that money wasn't meant for me, and that was a whole unexpected slap in the face with a bag of dogshit. Didn't realize we had devolved into a utilitarian society quite that quickly.

I started working with FSET (my state's employment training and search help program. I was literally trying everything. Like I had also called my college and emailed all my professors asking for job help, and they had no answers other than like, "look online"). After months of no luck, FSET eventually convinced me to sign with a temp agency.

I worked 2 temp jobs that treated me like garbage (worsening my depression) and also paid me as such. I had lost all my savings to trying to stay afloat and my free time was non-existent, unless you count the hours I'd spend in the middle of the night just walking around my neighborhood listening to music--in an attempt to stop what seemed like endless crying--while I cried.

I tried selling plasma but they rejected me because I couldn't ever get my heart rate low enough, as my antidepressants increase heart rate. I tried going off of them, but I was on them for a reason, so I need to go back on.

When I graduated, I had bought myself a PS4 as a graduation gift to myself. I could afford it and thought I earned it. All the atmosphere of rejection and failure the pandemic created for me and my link to survival (employment should not be tied to survival. I was doing everything right and the system was failing me direly while virtually no one else who shared my experiences understood why I couldn't get a job when "everywhere is hiring" and "nobody wants to work anymore") and I started to hate myself for stuff like gifting myself the PS4. I felt undeserving, like a waste of resources, etc. because those were the messages I was constantly receiving directly and indirectly.

I eventually landed a job in my field and was hired on the spot. I felt like I had hit the jackpot and finally was going to be okay. Surprisingly to everyone in my life, the job made my life even worse.

I signed an NDA due to being horribly abused for the 10 months I was there, so I can't say much more than I just barely paid off my credit card, still had no free time as I was salary and worked nights and weekends in addition to my scheduled hours because the real reason they hired me instantly was not because I impressed them but rather because they were collapsing and desperate for anyone with some level of responsibility and capability. I hated that job, was bullied and abused extremely badly by coworkers and bosses and HR was no help, and when my performance review came back with negative impressions of me when I was sacrificing so much to keep the employment entity alive and functional, I completely broke.

I ended up hospitalized for months for suicide, and part of the NDA included resigning. I never fully recovered and don't think I ever will. I think I've seen and experienced too much to return to the idea that I could be the trailblazer my professors projected me to be (I now think professors don't actually provide an accurate representation of the field and encourage with no basis for their optimism).

The human mind is very easy to manipulate with propaganda, and I didn't catch myself being in a sort of “main character syndrome” and thinking that because I was Valedictorian of my graduating class and that I had so many national and international recognitions, awards, accolades, and qualifications that I was, for lack of a better term, pulling myself up by the bootstraps and going to be rewarded with a promising future where success is not just viable but imminent. I knew the world wasn't fair and that some people could do all the prescribed “right” steps and fail, but the operating paradigm (that had been ingrained in me since childhood from teachers who saw me as bright) I had held told me that I was far too talented and hard-working to fail. I had very little doubt that I wouldn't be successful. I was an ideal, hypothetical model of a pre-successful American worker.

So anyway, I didn't expect to have all the trouble that I faced finding a good job. At the end of the first summer of covid with nothing but rejections and employers affirming to me that there was nothing I could have improved on to get the job other than have prior experience, I was a discouraged worker who didn't even try anymore.

That's when FSET convinced me to do the temp agencies (who dropped me because one employer who was inhumanely abusive and ironically an HR department) gave a bullshit reason about me violating a protocol so they wouldn't have to make good on their promise to hire me after the temp period.

(I had allergies and it was literally the exact week in September when allergies were at their worst. A coworker, who hated me for some reason I never figured out and can only assume was jealousy, reported me for having a runny nose and I was immediately escorted out for bringing covid symptoms into the building. If I didn't go to work any day I had a runny nose, I wouldn't go any day. I take allergy meds literally every day of my life. My parents kept me too clean as a baby or something and didn't let me eat enough dirt, so an allergy panel showed I was allergic to every single common indoor and outdoor allergen).

Back to my suicidal hospitalization: I could say so much on the inpatient part. Suffice it to say I was never given my meds and there were no groups because they were understaffed and constantly wound up/pissed because of the uncooperative patients, so it was like prison where you had to argue with staff to get your basic needs met, and no soft surface existed and the water was always freezing, so it genuinely felt like being locked in a concrete box with no sunlight, no one on your side (they lied and said they called my psychiatrist and therapist. They never did. They also lied about ordering my meds), and no contact with the outside world. It was like a cruelly-designed Mr. Beast challenge with no reward in the end.

My friends said I was messed up for 2 weeks after and scary af because I was in survival-fight mode that would not turn off. I also was too overwhelmed by the outside world when I got out and could only eat pre-packaged snacks for a while because that was all I was used to/comfortable with.

Part of the agreement to let me leave inpatient was to do an intensive all-day outpatient program. I was actually dropped from that by insurance because I had undiagnosed ADHD among all my other issues and couldn't show up on time or sometimes at all. I still don't have my ADHD figured out because I had to convince my psychiatrist to refer me to a neuropsych who booked out for months to test me. I did it and got “Yes, much ADHD. All of the ADHD. Very wow.” So my psychiatrist finally believed me and agreed to start me on ADHD meds.

My psychiatrist and I are still working to find an ADHD med that would work for me. Vyvanse helped for a time, but my body metabolized it too quickly, leaving me with only around 6 functional hours in the day. I'm currently on extended-release Adderall, but so far not much help and there are too many other variables that could be fucking with it, like that my sleep-wake cycle is extremely unpredictable and I have a million appointments every day, so I am constantly sleep-deprived and am actually busier now than I was in grad school or any 8-hour job I worked.

The breakdown I had triggered me to develop fibromyalgia, so that has been a whole ordeal. I'm constantly in pain, it again took many months to see any doctor about it, and the meds take so long to start taking effect that we've been trying since June to find something that works.

The crucible that was my pandemic experience didn't refine me like fire refines gold or whatever the saying is but rather left me burnt, and not in the way that you can scrape the charred parts off of toast but like BURNT burnt (I can't think of an example. Maybe a popsicle. You're not getting that back once you take a flamethrower to it. Plus the stick would crumble into ash. RIP popsicle).

My life lately is a lot of appointments I often miss and have to reschedule, arguments with various agencies and even my doctors, breakdowns, and driving for Uber Eats because no one can fire me (but it pays beans and I get flack from restaurants and customers AND Uber because somehow the driver is the scapegoat for any issue that arises. I was so proud of my delivery aptitude and quality service until the tip-baiters and people being assholes for no reason started hitting me as common and daily occurrences).

A lot of people don't understand how UberEats works, but Uber doesn't even pay their driver enough to cover gas or depreciation on their vehicle for the mileage, much less the value of the driver's time and physical efforts. Tips are literally ⅔ of my income and my income does not cover my bills despite all the time I put in and algorithm I set up for myself that determines which trips to accept/reject for the most profit. It's a very toxic and unprotected form of employment. A lot of people lie that I didn't give them their food so that they can get a refund, but that comes back on me and risks my account being deactivated. It's virtually a fear-based system with some tricky artificial competition that Uber likes to throw in from time to time to convince us to drive for less and less pay.

I've looked into all the alternatives like GrubHub, Spark, DoorDash, etc. but I've been on their waiting lists for years, including GrubHub booting me off their list even though I was always quick to respond to their periodic question of if I still wanted to be on the list.

Between depression and ADHD, I can't work a normal job. I no longer have the capacity to keep a routine and can't show up to things with any level of reliability despite how badly I want to. I also don't have the spoons to deal with working with others or being accountable for tasks that feel--idk how to articulate it, but like--stupid to my autism. If something seems inefficient or not progressive (like not helpful to humanity) to me, I can't get my brain to do it. And with ADHD, if it's not interesting to me/something I am passionate about (I was extremely lucky that learning and receiving the praise from teachers I never got from my parents was my passion that got me so far and through multiple degrees), I can't get my brain to let me do it. Sometimes I just can't do anything, including things I want to do, and simply end up stuck. I wouldn't last in any job that wasn't self-directed and only happening when I have the spoons to be available. My options are very limited. And Uber can be slow. I've had times where I've waited 13 hours and not gotten a single request that wasn't going to cost me money to run.

Uber has some personal difficulties for me. In the summer, I found it a little bit fun, but now that it's cold, my Raynaud's is painful and I don't enjoy having to watch out for people who got their licenses from cereal boxes and don't know how to drive in the snow. It's an unpleasant sensory experience for me to work and honestly risky safety-wise. People don't turn on their porch lights for some reason (I have a headlamp now) and don't salt their walkways, and I'm uncoordinated because my dad didn't throw a ball at me enough as a kid probably, so there's ice, the treads on my boots are shot (and I can't afford to replace them), and I get banged up from falling on concrete.

I have a chiropractor and physical therapist, and they each said even before this that they could see me every day and still have something to work on with me. It's affirming, at least, to hear that professionals can physically feel how in pain my body is and that it's not just me being a baby. Part of it, I'm sure, is that I have PTSD (including from the traumas of my various pandemic experiences) and have horrible nightmares every night where I jerk around a lot in my sleep. I wake up every day feeling like I got hit by a bus, which is also partially why I don't get places on time.

On my own time, I'll spend 2 hours trying to get out of bed both overcoming the pain to move and convincing myself to get the willpower to. It's so much easier to just lie there and accept it, especially when I don't look forward to having to do another day. I don't feel rested because I spent the night working my body and brain, so I'm not sure I ever am rested. I need so much more sleep now, too, with fibromyalgia. This adds to my stress of outpacing my bills and just keeping up with the maintenance of myself and my apartment because that's less time I have to get things done.

I have 4 alarms (phone vibrating plus noise, an earthquake pillow one, my Fitbit vibrating on my wrist, and a Pavlok going all out screaming, vibrating, and shocking me with electricity), and it's still possible for me to sleep through all of them or somehow turn them off while half-asleep and go back to sleep. There are also times where I will be like, “Okay, getting up now,” and then I black out and it's 4 hours later and I missed 3 appointments that will take weeks to reschedule, if the clinic hasn't dropped me for the tardiness and absence. I'm running out of clinics to go to.

On a mental level, I am in a near-constant state of overwhelm that holds me inches from a full-blown, all-day breakdown at any given moment. Something about being so stressed with no relief for years on end has rewired my brain, I think, to make the adrenaline pathway so reinforced and the stress part of the brain overlit/overactive. I don't know how to relax. Doctors keep telling me I need to, especially with fibromyalgia, but I physically cannot seem to do it. I can't focus on anything like movies. Nothing is fun when I have always-present and terrorizing (by threatening my survival) pressure from all these stressors (mainly money. I'm in a constant race against my monthly bills, and each month, they creep closer and closer to outpacing me). I'm never happy to wake up and I'm always low-key scared. I'm desperate for security in any form.

I was so unable to do tasks after my suicidal breakdown that even though my psychiatrist, therapist, and general physician were begging me to apply for disability. I had hoped I just needed a few months of R&R and would be right back to being willing and able to work. That never happened, and it was extremely difficult for me to accept the fact that I was disabled. When I finally did, I begged for months for people to help me fill out all the forms (they were overwhelming me, which is, y'know, kind of a key feature of my disability) and no one did, so I lost months of time there. I eventually just had a moment of conviction or indignation or something that I was able to force myself to do them. I'm still kind of mad at everyone who didn't help.

My therapist actually did her best to help and, when the outpatient hospital ousted me because insurance refused to pay for it anymore, referred me to the county's CCS (Community Care Something-or-other) program. They gave me a worker who allegedly had some psychology- or human services-related degree who would help me function for 1 hour a week. I think the whole program is a farce and despite spending hours on this program, we accomplished absolutely nothing.

The first CCS worker I had was supposed to come over to my place (which had become a mess. I was a messy person before, as my apartment was a graveyard of unfinished projects due to my ADHD), but with my extended burnout, I wasn't cleaning and organizing on the level I used to. So I texted my CCS person a warning that my kitchen table was cluttered. I mean it to mean, “It will take me a minute to clear the table once you get here for your laptop for you to finish the unreasonably long entry paperwork on me, and I haven't gotten the energy to declutter it yet and won't until you get here because my ADHD needs a body double right now. She, for reasons I still don't understand, canceled the visit and never came. When I confronted her about what I meant, she was like…embarrassed to the point of not being willing to work with me anymore. There was a communication breakdown that I couldn't get her to communicate with me and she was somehow scared of how much and how articulated or something I communicated that she shut down.

I understand I “overcommunicate” from the perspective of allistics and neurotypicals [I had a bad childhood and was invalidated and wrongly blamed for things a lot, so I give as much explanation as possible to avoid any misunderstanding and articulate to the point that there won't be any ambiguities and thus can't be twisted into reason to punish me when I've done nothing to earn punishment. My caretakers as a child had their own mental issues that led them to being unreliable/unsafe to me and didn't offer me any feelings of security in relationships, perspective of reality (them taking their anger out on me and telling me everything, including their personal problems, was my fault), and ultimately everyone seems to say they want transparency and communication, but from my experiences and perspective, they don't want that. I have no idea what they really want. I give the level of communication I would want someone to give me and hope that they will just discard the parts they don't need/want, and apparently that's me being a burden or something and a “bad” quality.

Meanwhile, I WISH people would communicate and be transparent with me more. I think I am an understanding person who has done enough work on themselves to not repeat toxic patterns and be a healthy relationship to others. I don't listen to judge but to understand so I can work with the other person to fix any problems and work with what we got, not devalue them and distance myself or abandon them. Everyone on dating apps says they want this, but I've yet to meet someone who does. I think it's that people see this as an ideal but are unskilled at the time to play their role in the situation–both in offering and responding. I think I've put so many years of therapy and introspection into working on myself that others just haven't, so we're simply on different levels. I know I'm not alone in my experiences, but it's very isolating when you don't meet people who have done the same work.

Anyway, I got assigned a new CCS worker and she did not do all that work I described. When I was told I would be assigned to someone else, I specifically asked for one who has seen some shit and that nothing I do or say will move them. They did at least give me someone older with more experience, but she either over- or under-estimated me (I can't discern which). She, working in the same building as my therapist and being basically in at least a good bit of communication with her when I wasn't around, knew that I had a lot of crap going on that I needed more therapy/support/help unraveling and making sense of and peace with than the 45 min/week I got with my current therapist. So she offered to be like a second therapist and said I could tell her absolutely anything.

As the pattern of this narrative likely already cues, it turned out I could not tell her absolutely anything. I was a few months into my transition and no one prepares you for some of the changes. My endocrinologist had only told me, “You might go bald.” I thought my years of research and consulting with transmen in my life had encompassed all I needed to know. However, we sometimes do not know what we don't know and thus don't think to ask the questions we need to ask. As probably an autistic/abused person trait of mine, I speak very clinically and technically. At the time, I had recently been speaking with my therapist about anatomical changes that triggered emotions I was not prepared for. I attempted the same sort of conversation with my new CCS worker, but she yelled me for being inappropriate. Not just scolded but legit yelled, as if I wasn't a full grown adult capable of reason and discussion.

I was confused on what I did wrong, since I thought I was just taking her up on what she willingly offered. I am also a firm believer in the Mister Rogers quote about how anything that is mentionable is manageable (which goes back to why I don't listen to judge but rather to collaborate and also why I see disagreements as us vs. the problem rather than me vs. them. I do not feel the need to yell at someone unless it's like an emergency of some sort and there's a threat that yelling can somehow address and be beneficial to the situation).

From my perspective, I was being shut down and punished/shamed for asking for help with a problem that legit scared me and that I was willing to be vulnerable enough to share. I consider that sort of thing sacred and not something that can be trusted in everyone's hands. But the way she responded, to me, reinforced that I was a person unworthy of help: a message received from my childhood caretakers and all the people who were supposedly there to help me during my pandemic crises.

I couldn't bring myself to trust her anymore or even want to see her again. I'll admit that's a bit of my Emotional Dysregulation Disorder weighing in, but I didn't want her in any intimate spaces I'd need to let her into in order to serve me in her CCS capacity. I had had too many things go wrong lately in that time to not shut myself down to prevent more hurt by simply refusing any future opportunity for more hurt to occur. I was well beyond my limit and it took much convincing from my therapist for me to even give CCS a chance to help me.

Still, I asked to be reassigned to another CCS worker, this time knowing that I could not trust what they claim to offer and just keep the things we work on surface-level functioning--like cleaning my oven or going through the pile of mail I hadn't opened in weeks because their potential contents paralyzed me with fear.

I was denied my request and let go from the program as they felt I had burned through 2 workers and thus proven that I am not a good candidate for the program. I still don't agree with this and argued, but after weeks of (a reasonable number of) periodic emails and voicemails, I never got an email or call back. In hindsight, I maybe should have reported to the county what happened, but it's been like a year.

That mostly brings us back to the present. I have been back in FSET since Spring but just focusing on staying afloat with Uber/working on whatever I can handle. I had a whole researched and designed pitch asking them to fund the several hundred dollars it would be for me to become a mobile notary, but they denied my request as they lack the funds. They also denied my request for new boots for the Uber hazards because they felt it was a fashion thing and not a need. Agencies, or honestly anyone with any power over me, not understanding me even with my articulate, crystal-clear explanations isn't surprising to me anymore. And counterintuitively, more explanation (even from different approaches) does not help and just makes me think I'm weird, which somehow is taken as more cause to not grant whatever request it is I am making in the first place.

So I Uber, I argue with doctors and agencies to try to get my needs met, and I have breakdowns despite my efforts to not. I have always had a massive list of more sculptures I want to make. I do want to get to a point where I can make them someday. I've been waiting on disability for an answer for nearly a year and done all I can to bolster my case with getting doctor testimonies, giving my testimony, noting clinic visits so the person assigned to my case can view the findings of them, getting an ADRC contact to guide me (though looking back, she didn't help at all and it was me searching out and discovering everything on my own while all she did was forward what documentation I had to the state for me)... All I can do is try to survive until they say “yes,” but they usually say “no” first (which is why an alarming number of people file bankruptcy and/or die waiting for a disability decision), especially since mental health reasons are the hardest ones to get approved, and my ADRC contact has been using language such as, “This will make it easier for next time,” and I'm not prepared to hear her tell me she thinks we'll have to file another claim and wait another year, so I don't ask

I feel terrible that I've not been sculpting or posting. I miss engaging the Tumblr community and sharing my art with people who appreciate it (and not tell me it's garbage. Wtf, Grandma).

The fact that I couldn't actually bring myself to commit suicide and still don't even though the extremely-difficult-to-survive--particularly with multiple debilitating ailments--and high cost I incur daily to myself trying to keep my head above water as long as I can, tells me that there is a life better than this that I want to live. I can't fathom for myself anything other than what is current, and I am putting all my chips into believing that I could be wrong and there's a chance all my striving will eventually meet stable ground to rest upon, where I can return to myself and make art again. I hate to think this wreck is who I really am and want to believe this is just who I am under a stupid-amount of pressure that no human should ever have to endure. A lot of people have been quick to point out all the resources, but I guarantee I've pursued all of them hard and received some help but not nearly enough. It's hard to wrestle with the feelings of not being enough to live or not being worthy of living because it's such a struggle for me to throw enough money at bills/expenses to allow me to live. It shouldn't cost someone all of themselves to try (and imminently fail) to earn the allowance to live.

Things like the ACP and student loan freeze (I owe $80,000+ because college is an overpromising, commercialized thing that is more gamble than guarantee) are ending soon (or maybe have ended and I just haven't opened my mail to know), and I'm deathly afraid. Uber isn't enough and on down-times with them and when my various ailments aren't being debilitating, I work on selling things to try to make enough for the month. Obviously I'm eventually going to run out of things to sell.

I'm also fearful that my estimated disability check, if I get one, is only going to be $900/month, because I didn't get enough work experience to be allowed more. I genuinely don't know that that's going to be enough, especially since the price of everything like rent is inflating. I don't know how long I can financially sustain my means of survival. But I'm still doing everything I can. It's jarring to go from decorated Valedictorian to…whatever exhausted mess this is.

My parents stopped asking me months ago how things are going because they know it's never good. They don't have the means to help me as my mom got laid off of work, my dad has dementia and doesn't work, and if I have to live with them again, I would essentially be signing off on my own death certificate because even spending a few hours in that home, with those people, is enough to completely drain me, trigger so much PTSD, grind my mental health down even more with whatever new dynamics and energies they decide to inject in our interactions. I wasn't free to fight the battles I needed to until I moved out into my own private space, and since it is the cheapest option in the entire city and so necessary of a component to my mental health, my therapist identified keeping my apartment as my number one priority. With my mental health, I wouldn't do well at all or be able to get back on my feet if I was homeless.

This turned into a lot more than I intended, but I'm really satisfied that it explains my situation and makes it known that you can do everything right and still lose. The system will cannibalize you if you don't have money to start with and don't have the means to keep it coming. Poverty charges interest and there are no days off, especially if you're disabled. There are no real safetynets and the ones that exist are overwhelmed, underfunded, underpowered, and essentially only serve to make the ones who don't need them feel satisfied (and aren't outraged and pushing for changes) being sold the lie that those who need help have it available to them. Having an inside view of what the experience is, I am apalled at how little systemic support or consideration there is for the disabled, especially since it is the largest minority group that anyone can join at any time.

Some days suck worse than others, like when the weather is so bad that I cannot Uber or when my pain or mental state has been aggravated and I haven't made enough time for self-care so it has decided for me when self-care must be attended to. I wish I could give myself the self-care my mind and body need so I can be healthier, more resilient to setbacks, and feel less pain, but honestly some nights I don't even go to bed because there isn't enough time/I can't afford to not be working or selling things. Society likes to frame self-care as a luxury and only recently (since covid attacked everyone's mental health) did self-care start to be widely accepted as a need. It's just too bad all that rhetoric amounted to is awareness without action. Capitalism still demands and glorifies the nonstop grind, even if it kills us.

Obviously some days are better than others and it feels incredible when I feel a genuine smile spread across my face. I wish it wasn't so foreign of a feeling, but the fact that it is makes it more impactful. I try to give my attention to hope, even if I have no practical basis to believe it exists.

Receiving this ask did ultimately bring a smile to my face because it means I'm still cared for in a world that kicks me to the ground daily and says I don't deserve care. It is so hard for me to even care about myself a lot of the time, with all the negative messages I've internalized from my dominatingly high ratio of experiences that are rejection or failure in some form. Ultimately, we all just want to be loved. Thank you so much for reminding me that pain isn't all there is for me (it's easy to get sucked into that mindset after years of nearly everything gutting me. I often fail to even notice myself falling into it and being consumed by it).

I know I don't owe anyone an explanation for my absence and that no one is mad at me or blaming me for it that I would need to provide some sort of justification. But I wanted to communicate with you all because I love you. I genuinely mean that.

I still think about this from time to time and I still want come back to making and sharing sculptures and just having fun hearing all the things you have to say about them and how delighting, inspiring, or entertaining you find them. I consider the ability to do that and this Tumblr page to be one of my greatest things I've made. I don't care about money and despise that money dictates virtually every aspect of my life in the worst way. Community, creativity, and self-improvement motivated by joy/love rather than profit/fear are of infinitely more value to me. I'm still pursuing that dynamic in the end through all of this.

By no means is anyone obligated to donate to me, but if you can afford to and want to, I'll post my payment platform things below (some may still have my birth name attached). Any amount helps and Lord knows I dove for a penny on the ground last week.

If you can't donate but still want to help, reblogging can help no matter how little reach you feel your blog has, and I also would appreciate words of encouragement or support. I also just want you to know that if you've been reading this far, I really appreciate that you care enough about me to do that.

All of my love,

Stan

(They/Them)

PayPal:

@Stanwagner09

Venmo:

@asclw7643

Zelle:

[email protected]

#Thank you everyone for your support #and thank you chronically-issy for checking in on me #chronically-issy

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