Writing a covering letter for voluntary work at hospital

Got two interviews this year and an acceptance, but had to turn down that acceptance (it's the School That Must Not Be Named, bet you can guess which one) due to being unable to get approved for their private loans even at a terrible interest rate.
CA ORM female.
Stats: 3.59 cGPA 3.5 sGPA (which includes a post-bacc with 3.85 GPA of 58 units). Took MCAT three times, 508 (125, 130, 126, 127) in junior year then 512 (126, 130, 128, 128) in senior year, then 514 (125, 131, 128, 130) last year. PREview score 6.
Grade trend: High (~3.8-4.0) in community college, dipped in senior year of college after transferring, back up from my post-bacc.
Disadvantaged: No (well, last year I thought admitting to previously having undiagnosed inattentive ADHD would excuse failing and retaking a senior year capstone class, especially since I am now treated and doing great, but this year I will follow advice to not mention it smh).
Activity List
Shadowing: 60 hours in an emergency room and MICU, 20 hours in a podiatrist office. Great stories from those experiences.
Clinical: 750 hours as a COVID tester, which included speaking some basic Spanish due to serving underserved urban population and working with kids.
Research: Three experiences for a total of ~2000 hours at a highly respected research institute in California, will be a co-author this summer on two publications, one will be published this summer and the other won't be published for a while. Also, two poster presentations.
Writing: My primaries and secondaries had strong life lessons I learned from patients while volunteering and working as a COVID tester. I think they were really strong and emotional, but they were also just conversations I'd had with people rather than instances I'd particularly "done" anything. My activities list descriptions included specific anecdotes.
Leadership experiences: President of an academic club in college for a year where we organized fundraisers and a blood donation event, not sure if that's strong or weak.
Volunteering: 250 hours in a respected college-associated hospital program from which I received two minor awards for upon recommendation from staff (not sure if the recommendations were from nurses or physicians, unfortunately).
Athletics: Cross country team for ~1.5 years in community college, "550 hours" in my app. Worst on the team by far but I still technically competed at regionals lol!
Languages: Low intermediate Spanish, just took another class this semester. Also took classes in Russian and Japanese because I like language classes.
Other ECs: Private math tutor inconsistently throughout high school and college for just 100 hours, and I'm working on making accessible math resources broken down in an interesting way for students in a personal project but it won't be ready by the time I hit submit in a month.
Letters of recommendation: Two letters of recommendation from my major two research experiences, one from my boss from COVID testing, a post-bacc committee letter, a post-bacc science professor (I can get more good letters of recommendation from professors if that would help), and an additional program director for a total of six. I had four last year because my pre-health advisor said that was plenty, but maybe it wasn't?
(I figure I won't ask for a letter of rec from the first experience since it was just 50 hours virtually. Should I ask the PIs from both labs to cosign the letters of recommendation? In general you don't tend to work directly with the PI as a research assistant, but we've talked before.)
School list: Last year I submitted my primary to 58 schools but only sent 30 secondaries, and half of those were to far reach schools because my mom wanted me to "apply just in case" while the other half were to schools within range. My secondary submission timeline was between 2-4 weeks after receiving. This year I plan on at least 40 schools within range and OOS friendly, and submitting secondaries like within a day.
Next year
For the upcoming application cycle/year, I'm debating whether to continue in research since my boss really likes me and I could get another publication or two (and show long-term dedication to my projects), or if I should work as an unlicensed medical assistant or something for more clinical experience. I love both options so tell me what to do!
Thanks for your help! I'm hopeful that I might've had better luck if I didn't foolishly include the ADHD thing on my app...

Hi…
Let me preface this by saying I am a first year music teacher and I am 23; the rest of the teachers in this school are around my parents’ ages (mid 50s) and have been teaching for many years.
My 6th grade class walked in today and asked when the camera is going to be put in my classroom, pointing at the hole in the top of the wall with capped wires sticking out, ready to be connected. I had come immmediately from a meeting with the principal where she said she doesn’t want the students bringing chromebooks to music class. She claims that I don’t monitor them closely enough and that they don’t get any work done, but last week during class a homeroom teacher manually blocked the educational website we were working on for the entire class. I teach pre-K through 8th grade at a catholic school, but only doing technology with second grade and up. I was doing a music production unit and having the younger kids work on chrome music lab and the older kids work on sound trap. It doesn’t make sense to me that administration has no problem using laptops in every class besides mine. I asked the kids if they have cameras in their classrooms. None of the other classrooms have cameras, only the hallways and entrances.
The kids have pointed out how much money the school spends on cameras but they hire specials teachers for cheap through an agency that hires people without education degrees (including me, don’t slander me for that 🙄) instead of paying the money for real educators. The agency is trash and has not assisted me in any way.
Nobody, including the principal, said anything to me about the camera until the kids did, although all of the homeroom teachers knew about it. I don’t feel comfortable having a camera in my classroom. If they install one I’m going to have to cover it or just quit. It kind of feels like they want me gone because the kids like me so much that admin thinks I’m just giving them free time. They’re going to be monitoring my every move so that the first minor slip up gives them an excuse to oust me.
If I’m really that bad at teaching, or if they don’t trust me or like my teaching style, or if they want a constant aide to sit in my class, THAT’S FINE. Just tell me that to my actual face instead of going big brother on me and having the ability to take everything I do out of context.
Oh yeah, principal also said I shouldn’t be giving the kids coloring sheets (I brought in Beatles coloring sheets today and had a brief lesson on how they were influential to music history). My objective with this is to keep their hands busy and encourage active listening. She says the little kids already color too much and they don’t have the attention span to color.
Is this weird to anyone else? Am I just overthinking? What should I do? About to write a strongly worded email to both the principal and my agency.

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I have been an assistant manger at a sub shop shop for almost 1 year. (I have previously worked for this franchise- but a separate one from this one- so I already knew a lot to do this position and have done this position before). I was recently fired with no notice or and disciplinary actions to back this up. The reason for firing that was put on my separation form was that “we no longer see eye to eye” and “he needs the company to be a priority”. What has caused this that I even know of is two separate instances that happened this last month:
Instance 1: I am in charge of inventory each week. I came in for my close on inventory night even though I was very sick. For the first 2 hours of my close I was in the bathroom essentially the entire time puking. I called another manager to come in and cover the rest of my shift. This manager is not trained on inventory. But I was told by that manager and the GM that it would be fine and “they have it handled”. I checked in on that manager that night at 9PM asking if they needed help and that I would do my best to help- even though I should not be required to since I went home sick. But still, I had not received a response for 2 hours and by then I had gone back to bed. The GM was very upset about this, as I should have been answering my phone and now he “can’t rely on me to respond to people”. This is the first time I haven’t responded to anyone. We got into an argument the next day where he tells me I don’t deserve anything he has given me. Which is the opposite of what he is telling me all of the time- that I’m the only one he can count on and I deserve everything I’ve gotten so far. Essentially he was upset because he had “a rough day” that following day.
Instance 2: This follows 2 weeks later as I get a call right at close (also on inventory night- what are the odds) that my niece had tried committing suicide by swallowing a bunch of pills. I finished my close and made sure inventory was 100%. Texted my GM to notify him of the situation and to let him know the close was not the greatest but that I needed to get to the hospital to be with my family because at this point I didn’t even know if my niece was alive. That following day he tells me that what happened “was unacceptable, and he will not care about shit like that when his baby is born.”
I’m at a loss for what to do. I came in blindsided 2 days ago to find out I am getting fired with nothing to back it up. No paperwork- nothing. Any advice, questions, or comments would be helpful.
P.s. I am an hourly worker and the GM is salary. I also work in Illinois.

First Previous Next
-----Damian-----

In the medical bay Damian orders the dogs to lay down, ignoring how they all spread throughout the room, most lying flat out, making it into an obstacle course to move through them all without accidentally stepping on a paw or tail. He carefully takes the small one the red brown one had been carrying (he'll have to look at all their name tags soon) and gently laid it on a counter, wrapping it in a few towels. With the wounds hidden it almost looked like it was sleeping. Tearing his gaze away from the dog he gets to work.

He wanders through the room, looking through cabinets and reading labels on various bottles and containers for something he recognizes to patch up the dogs' wounds. Eventually he finds the things he needs, more or less. He remembers them being used on him and they hadn't had any negative effects so far, so he hopes it won't be bad for the dogs.

His birds did tell him, at the times he was coherent enough to understand, that most of the stuff he grabbed were 'galactic standard issue'. Apparently that meant that, somehow, when the product comes in contact with a living being it adjusts parts of itself to do whatever job it is supposed to with as little damage to the being as possible. He has no idea how Violet and Blueberry used some long-winded overly scientific explanation that lost him after the first chirp. He just smiled and nodded like he understood anything they had said. The main point got across though: it won't hurt any being it is used on as it did its job. It may not be as good as species-specific medicines but it's good enough for now.

He did as best he could to patch up the dogs, working on what minor medical knowledge he could remember from before his abduction, which isn't much. He worked from the worst injuries, in the entire group, to the more minor ones. That meant crisscrossing both the room and the dogs themselves, but he didn't care. The dogs were all good and stayed as still as they could as he patched them up, making him thankful not to use the 'standard issue sedatives' he had grabbed just in case.

By the time he taped off the last bandage he was exhausted. He shook off the exhaustion, though. He slid the dogs, half of which were either asleep or dosing off, towards one side of the room. He chuckled at the sleepy grumbles and grunts the disturbance drew from the dogs, muttering a soft, "(I know: How dare I. How rude.)" under his breath in a slight baby voice. Once the floor was mostly cleared he cleaned up everything he used on the dogs and tried his best to put them back where he got them from. He kept a few out to half-heartedly clean and patch (repatch for some) his own wounds. Only once he completely finished his own wounds and cleaning the area did he let himself sag with exhaustion.

He leaned against a counter (originally designed more like a raised walkway for his birds) and sighed. He took a second to try and relax a bit. Ow, ow, ok no. That hurt too much. He sighed again, deep enough it felt like it came from his toes, and stood upright again. He was just about to leave and go find his birds to tell them about their impromptu guests when a half-bark stopped him. It was like when you asked a dog to bark quietly and they made more of a puff of air than a bark, that kind of 'houmph'. Turning he saw the boxer staring at him intently. At his attention it perked and wagged its tail nub.

He smiled and took a step to leave when it whined. He glanced back again, and it looked so sad. It pillows its head on the dog in front of it, causing it to wake, look at him, and whine. This chain reaction swept through all five dogs until there was a horde of sad puppy eyes begging him to stay. He sighed for a third time and shuffled his way over. He sat next to the group of dogs and sent them a look.

"(There. Ya happy now, ya big babies?)" The furthest dog leapt to its feet and bounded over to flop down on him, drawing a breathless grunt from him. The other four followed its lead and, quite literally, dogpiled him. He ended up laying down, head pillowed on one dog (who's head was on his shoulder) with the rest of the group piled around and over him, working together to become a living blanket. He chuckled and petted the ones he could reach.

He opened a holo-pad and quickly sent a message to his birds about his 'guests'. He was about to send a follow-up, longer message explaining what they were, how he found them, and where all of them were when one dog yanked the pad out of his grip with a playful tail wag. It slipped out of its mouth on the pullback and ended up accidentally throwing it to the other side of the room. All six of the group watched it fly, hit the wall (causing a small dent), and land on the ground with a bounce and a few sparks from the certainly now broken pad. There was a second of silence before the dog, a German Shepard if he had to guess, opened their mouth in a smile-mimicking pant and raised its head to look behind it at Damian with a few tail wags. Damian busted out laughing at the action.

"Ok. Point taken." He ruffled the dog's scruff and it closed its eyes, tail thumping. From this angle and distance, he couldn't quite reach it's collar to look at its tag. He turned to the ones he could get to instead. The first one he looked at was the wolfdog looking one. Her collar was one of those chain-collars, the ones where when the dog pulled the collar would tighten. On one of the rings was her name tag.

'Casper' it read in semi-cursive lettering like a ghost wrote it. He pets her head, saying her name to her. She leaned back to lay flat out, shoulder landing on his thigh and head flopping over his lap and one of the dogs already there. He chuckled then paused when he saw a blank spot in her fur. Now that he saw her closer and straight out it wasn't a spot but a long line. It started a bit behind an ear with a chunk missing and traveled down her neck, over her shoulders and spine to end over her opposite hip. He gently brushed the fur aside to see a thick fully healed scar. Her long fluffy fur had hidden it well enough he hadn't realized she even had a scar. Poor thing. He gently pets down the scar a few times before moving to the next dog.

The Great Dane-looking one was the next closest, being the one that volunteered for the pillow position, but he already knew his name. He pats the dog's side with a small cooed 'Braxi-boy'. The dog gave its tail a few sleepy wags before going back to sleep, the jaw of his heavy head digging into Damian's shoulder. He looked at the dog on his chest next. It's the stocky red-brown one with the splash-acid-burn scar on its jaw. Her collar was a, now old and worn, bandanna with the name lovingly stitched into it. 'Dingo' it read. The stitching was a bit sloppy and not very even, giving the impression it either wasn't someone at all skilled in needlework or it was a child's best attempt. He ran his hand down the sloppy stitches and smiled softly. Dingo didn't wake when he pets her with her name on his lips.

The Shepard and Boxer were both out of his reach by and over his legs, but he was just able to read the tag hanging from the Boxer's collar. 'Diesel'. He chuckled. With the black-brown-tan-grey coloring in stripey lines (what was that called? It had a name. Bridle? Bindle? Bundle? It started with a 'B' and ended with an '-dle') covering he had a good guess where the name came from. He rubbed the sleeping dog with his foot as best he could. That just left the Shepard.

He tried to figure out how to read its tag without disturbing the dogs using him as both a pillow and bed when the dog in question got up with a stretch and wide yawn. He watched it as it walked closer and plopped itself down on the pile, ending up pushing one dog a bit further away from him to press between the two. The disturbed dog whipped its head up with an annoyed grunt but flopped back down without further protest. Damian chuckled.

"Well. That works too." He looked at the Shepard's collar, its name was on a plate screwed into the collar itself. 'Tater'. Was that supposed to be 'potato' with a heavy country accent? Thats amazing. He cooed her name while he pets her ears, gaining a sleepy huff and a few tail wags in response. Satisfied with knowing the dogs’ names (he made a point not to look at the towel burrito on the counter) he yawned widely, causing a chain reaction through all the awake or partially awake dogs around him.

That's how his flock found him in their panicked search for him: curled up on the floor of the medical bay with a pack of collared predators piled on and around him. He was snoring. He was dead asleep and snoring. Damian may have gotten relaxed enough to sleep properly and not the 'barely deeper than dose' than he had been before his birds, but it was always either a light sleep or complete unconsciousness because of some other factor like exhaustion or fresh wounds. This is the first time any of his flock had seen him sleep with actual rest like he should.

Ree cautiously walked over and nudged an arm. Normally that was enough to wake him if he wasn't completely unconscious but not this time. Ree blinked in surprise then nudged a bit harder. Damian didn't respond. He glanced at the rest of the flock, unsure. Ares waddled over, barely keeping himself from tripping over tails and paws as he did. He then crouched down, grabbed Damian's wrist with both his tiny paws and lifted it. He then promptly dropped it. The dog it fell onto grunted and shifted, causing more dogs to grumble and shift, but Damian didn't even twitch. His snores stuttered for a second when Dingo shifted on his chest but resumed normally soon after.

I thought my Monday was rough. Until I experienced Tuesday. Those who believed that it was important for me to supplement my academic study of male masochism with first-hand experience — Luke, Paul, Brooke, possibly Neil as well — certainly were getting their wish. I less so, although there was no denying the authenticity of it.
I had to wait until Brooke and Luke were asleep to complete my punishment lines. When my alarm went off at 5 AM in Tuesday morning, after only four hours of sleep, I groaned.
As I was driving over to Kevin’s mom’s house, I received a text from him: Get me an Egg McMuffin from McDonald’s on your way here. Text me when you get here so you don’t wake up my mom.
I had dressed in a clean pair of yoga pants and plain black T-shirt (fortunately, at the time, my dresser wasn’t yet full of humiliating shirts, like it is today, and my cuckold horns shirt was filthy), so I was grateful for the drive-thru at McDonald’s. I resisted the temptation to order myself hash browns and instead limited myself to a banana and cup of coffee. I was determined to avoid more punishment on Saturday following my weigh-in.
Although it was to be another unseasonably hot day, the sun was just starting to rise when I pulled up to the house, so it was still fairly cool. Kevin was waiting for me on the porch. He didn’t thank me (let alone offer to reimburse me) for the sandwich, but rather ate it as he walked around his truck, inspecting the work I had already done. Finding fault with the cleanliness of his wheel rims, he instructed me to stop working on the interior of the car and to reapply myself to the wheels and hubcaps. I tried to explain that I had scrubbed these areas repeatedly yesterday, but that some of the blemishes simply could not be removed from the aging vehicle. He stood above me, supervising — as I worked on my knees — pointing to areas that he felt were not sufficiently clean.
“Sir, I can’t get this spot out. I’ve tried several times,” I said, as I strenuously, yet futilely scrubbed a black mark at the bottom of one of the rear wheels. It looked like it had been there for years. Kevin’s filthy plumber’s boots were right next to my face as I crouched down and scrubbed.
“Scrub harder.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m scrubbing as hard as I can. Some of these stains just won’t come off.”
“You’re not trying hard enough. Here, let me try.” He grabbed the sponge from me and bent over to scrub it. It took some effort, but sure enough, he was able to remove the spot.
“See, you’re not working hard enough. Luke will be disappointed.”
“Sir, I promise you that I’m trying as hard as I can. I’m just not as strong as you are, sir. You have really bulked up at the gym since the last time I saw you.” I thought a little flattery might help convince him not to complain about me to Luke.
He flexed his bicep and stared at it admiringly.
“That’s really impressive, sir. Look at mine, by comparison.” I flexed mine, and felt like Popeye without the spinach standing (or, in my case, kneeling) next to Brutus.
“I guess you’re right,” he said. “I’ll tell you what, if you clean my boots and tools, I might not say anything to Luke.”
Have you started to notice a pattern here? A slippery slope of submission. For example, if I hadn’t been forced to clean Luke’s truck that time I was caught by Kelly, I probably would never have met Paul and, therefore, wouldn’t later that day be going to his condo to work as his maid. It seemed that one act of submission and exposure begat another. Where would it end? Would it end? At the time I am making them, however, my concessions always seem like good ideas, given my lack of options.
And so it probably will not surprise you to learn that I replied, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I think I can use the same soapy water and leather conditioner I’m using on your truck. If you remove them, I can get started right away.”
“Remove them? Why bother? Just do them here,” he pulled down the tailgate of his truck and sat on it. I filled a fresh bucket of soap and water and got back on my knees to begin my task.
“My boots are dirtier than usual. My last job was a real shit show. Literally,” he chuckled.
I tried not to think about how exactly his boots got so filthy, as I used a towel to wipe off the foul smelling, caked-on debris. Kevin had a relaxed, arrogant expression on his face, as if having a guy twice his age kneeling before him to clean his boots was the most natural thing in the world. I heard the unmistakable noise of a photo being taken on a phone and looked up to see Kevin’s iPhone pointed at me.
“What are you doing, sir?”
“I just wanted to text Kaylee. She’ll get a kick out of this.”
What could I say in response? Challenge him and likely face Luke’s wrath? I bit my tongue.
After cleaning them, I applied some of the leather conditioner I had used on the truck’s seats and began buffing his boots energetically with a microfiber towel. It was just at that moment, of course, that Kevin’s mom, Darla, walked out of the house in sweatpants and a jacket, a cup of coffee in her hand. I will confess that my cock began to stiffen the moment I got on my knees and looked up at Kevin; the pure act of submitting stoked my arousal, as usual. But it was when Darla arrived that my cock really began to push painfully against its restraints.
“Oh, it’s you again,” she said looking down at me.
“Wally didn’t have time to finish my truck before it got dark yesterday,” said Kevin.
“Good morning, ma’am,” I said.
Ignoring me, she said, “It doesn’t look like he’s cleaning your truck right now to me. I guess Luke’s new lackey is now your lackey too. I raised some smart boys.” She smiled proudly. “At least this one isn’t wearing a bikini like Luke made his first boss wear when the old guy used to clean this truck back before he gave it to you.” She laughed heartily at the fond memory of one of my predecessors’ humiliations at the hands of her older son. So nice to be participating in the family tradition, I thought.
“Well, it is December. It’s a little cold for a bikini,” Kevin laughed. “Walter, stand up and show my mom the pantyhose, or whatever it is, that Luke makes you wear.”
I did as directed, causing Darla to laugh. “Those are women’s work-out pants, honey. But I can see the bulk beneath them. One of Luke’s signature methods of dominating the husbands he cuckolds. As I’ve heard your brother say more than once, ‘If you really want to own a man, control his cock.’”
“Wally is a college professor. Luke said he studied at one of them Ivy League schools, out East.”
“You can see where that’s gotten him,” she said. “Well, it’s a little chilly out here, I’m going back inside. I have I feeling I’ll be seeing more of you,“ she said to me with a smirk as she walked back into the house.
After I finished cleaning his boots, Kevin directed me to go into his garage, bring his tools out into the driveway and wipe them down with soapy water before loading them into the bed of his truck. He watched me work the entire time, not lifting a finger.
When I finished, he paid me a compliment. A most unwanted one, as it tuned out. “Nice job with my boots and my tools. Now that I’ve got my license, I could really use an assistant. I’m gonna talk to Luke about letting me borrow you sometimes.”
I didn’t respond, hoping this thought was just a whim of his that would soon be forgotten. I hoped in vain; it was indeed the slippery slope again, a continuation of my descent.
After I finished with his tools, I spent another hour finishing cleaning the interior of the truck before Kevin headed off to his first job of the day and I headed off to campus. This time, I did change into my jeans in a fast food restaurant on the way, too wary of facing Darla again to go back into the house.
I still wore the leather choker that day, and was highly self-conscious as I lectured to the 24 students in my Chivalry and Courtly Love In Medieval Literature class.
I had to be and Paul’s and Anna’s by 4 PM, so after my lecture, I walked to the drugstore to buy the Johnsons’ furniture wax and a toothbrush. I was starving. Having only had a banana that day, and having eaten very little besides salads, fruit and low-fat cottage cheese since my disappointing weigh-in on Saturday, I decided to treat myself to lunch at my favorite Thai restaurant in town. Given how hard I had worked and how little I had eaten over the last couple of days (and thinking about the humiliation that lay in store for me that afternoon), I figured that I deserved this one small self indulgence. I ordered seafood Tom Yum soup and beef Massaman curry. A caloric dish to be sure, but how much could it possibly hurt after my spartan diet of the last few days?
I was still savoring my soup when the waitress brought my curry and rice to the table. Just at that moment, I saw Neil enter the restaurant with a female colleague, Annabelle Nash (she taught Shakespeare, mainly). They greeted me as they went to their seats, but I could see Neil scrutinize the dishes on my table and shake his head disapprovingly (if subtly). Self conscious as I was, I nevertheless cleaned my plate (grateful Neil’s back was to me at the table where he and Annabelle sat). After I paid my check, I walked over to say goodbye to them.
Neil said, “Hey, pal, would you mind swinging by my office at around 2:30 for a few minutes?”
“Sure thing, Neil. Nice seeing you, Annabelle.”
When I met him in his office later, Neil closed the door and asked me to sit down.
“Walter, I have a bit of a dilemma that I hope you can help me out with. Luke made me promise to tell him if I caught you cheating on your diet on campus.”
“The restaurant is not on campus,” I smiled, attempting a joke.
“You know what I mean,” he answered, with a serious expression. “Was that beef Massaman curry? Do you know how many calories are in that dish?! And all the carbs in the rice? You should always ask for brown rice instead of white, you know. And you had soup too, I noticed.”
“But I barely ate anything the past three days. And I only had a banana for breakfast.”
“You’re always making excuses. That’s why you’ve basically been stuck at the same weight now for the last few weeks. You’re at a threshold, and to lose more, you need to be super disciplined about what you eat, and exercise more. No more excuses, Walter.”
“You’re right, sir. Please don’t tell Luke,” I pleaded.
“Look, I know what my telling him means for you as a consequence. But I promised him I would. And his methods with you have been successful. I feel I have to honor my promise.”
“Please, don’t. Maybe I can make it up to you somehow. How about a foot massage?”
“Giving me a foot massage isn’t going to burn many calories.” He thought for a minute. “I tell you what. The four days a week that we’re on campus together, how about if you bring me a coffee each day in between my classes? I don’t think that will conflict with your teaching schedule, and the exercise of walking to the Corner Cafe each day will do you good. It’s 3300 steps there and back; I’ve measured it on my iPhone. That way, I won’t feel as guilty for not telling Luke about catching you cheating on your diet today.”
“Yes, thanks Neil. Sir, I mean. That seems more than fair.”
Neil got up and shook my hand. “Deal. And you don’t have to call me ‘sir’ here on campus, pal.”
“Thanks, Neil.”
“But I will take you up on that offer for your amazing foot massages on Wednesdays after my back-to-back classes. You can give me one tomorrow when you bring my coffee.”
“Of course, thanks again, Neil,” I said, as I left his office. And so that is how I came to be Neil’s coffee boy for the balance of the semester (and future semesters, even during my sabbatical). And his foot boy, or reflexologist, or whatever you want to call it. Notice how it went from me offering to give him one foot massage in return for his silence, to me getting his coffee four days a week and massaging his feet once a week. In an instant! I guess negotiation was not one of my strong suits.
As I drove to Paul and Anna’s condo — the next stop on my gauntlet of service and humiliation that day —the Paul Simon song Slip Sliding Away ran through my head, the refrain in particular:
Slip sliding away You know the nearer your destination The more you’re slip sliding away
If old Paul was correct, the further I slid down the slope, the closer I’d come to my true nature. I wondered how much further I had to slip. Would I be the slave to everyone by the time I finally reached the bottom of the slope?
As I parked my car, I did another mental inventory of what I needed for my second visit to the condo. Johnsons’s furniture wax, check. Toothbrush, check. Punishment lines, check. I was wearing sheer, black nylon panties under my jeans. Then I remembered: I had completely forgotten Anna’s directive that I research and practice how to curtsy. All I could do is hope that she had forgotten. If not, maybe I could wing it? Better yet, maybe she wouldn’t be there this time. But did I really want to be alone with Paul?
Carrying a bag that contained my punishment lines as well as the furniture polish and toothbrush, I entered the lobby to find the same obnoxious doorman as last Tuesday, sitting behind his desk.
“I’m here to see Paul Betz.”
“And you are?” He knew perfectly well who I was, but wanted to force me to say it.
“The maid.” I looked down at the floor, ashamed.
He picked up the intercom. “Mr. Betz, your maid is here to clean your apartment. May I send HIM up?” The prick just had to emphasize my gender.
“Mr. Betz said you may go up. Apartment 11B. The elevator is around the corner,” he said, as if I had never been there before, a smug smile plastered to his face.
“Yes, thank you. I remember.”
When I got to their door, I got down on my knees, as Paul had instructed me. Should I have rung the bell first? Should I knock? Or would that annoy them? I had been announced, so they knew I would be coming up the elevator. I waited there for several minutes. The longer I waited, however, it seemed to make less and less sense to ring the bell. Maybe they were busy and not ready for me yet, even though I was very punctual? Maybe they were….having sex? I didn’t want to risk disturbing them. And, so, I continued to wait.
I then heard the elevator door open, with dread. A woman, probably in her mid thirties, walked by me to her apartment across the hall, staring down at me with an amused expression. When she opened her door, I heard her yell to someone in the apartment, “It looks like Paul and Anna have a new one,” before the door slammed shut.
Just then the the door in front of me finally opened. I saw Paul’s feet first.
“You may enter. Remember, on your knees.”
I put my hands down to crawl into the apartment, before he snapped at me: “No! I didn’t say on your hands and knees. I said on your knees.”
I shuffled forward into the apartment, cursing myself for having not purchased knee pads, as Paul had suggested. I told myself that I would have to start taking notes from now on , so I wouldn’t forget things I’d later regret.
“Lines,” he said, simply.
I pulled the several loose leaf pages out of my bag and handed them to Paul. “Here, sir.”
As much as it hurt my hand to write all of those lines, the mental anguish of having to repeatedly write that I would no longer mention academic integrity — a subject that I was passionate about (ridiculous as it might seem to you, coming from a professor about to clean the apartment of two of his students) — was worse. Paul knew that, of course. I was to learn that, despite their many differences in style, like Luke, he was a natural sadist, with an impressive ability to zero in on areas of his victim’s vulnerability or sensitivity to exploit for maximum humiliation. Lucky me.
“I’ll count them and check the neatness of your writing later. Did you bring the Johnsons wax and toothbrush?”
“Yes, sir. Here.” I showed him the contents of my bag.
Anna then came into the living room from the kitchen, munching on an apple. Both were dressed similarly to last time, Paul in sweatpants and Anna in tight yoga pants. Anna was barefoot this time, her pretty, pedicured toes painted a metallic silver color. She caught me staring at her toes, and smiled.
“Don’t worry, Professor Rollins, you will get to know my feet very well. They will be your best friends before long.”
“More like his unobtainable crush,” Paul snickered.
“Crushes,” Anna corrected him. “Professor maid will have a crush on both of my feet and on all ten of my toes. He will worship them and he will pine for them. And they won’t give him the time of day,” she said. Then she abruptly said to me, “Obeisance!”
“Excuse me, Princess Anna?”
“Obeisance means assume the position of respect and humility before your superiors,” Paul explained.
“Yes, sir. I know the meaning of the word, but I don’t know what position she means.”
“I don’t like your condescending tone. It reminds me of when you corrected me in class on Monday about the cucking stool. We’re going to teach you not to use that tone with us. Certainly not here, where you are nothing more than a slave. But not in class either. You will be very careful in how you interact with Anna, Kelly and me in class from now on. We are your special students.”
“We are the teacher’s pets, and the teacher is our pet,” giggled Anna.
I certainly didn’t intend to be condescending — I was on my knees, for fuck’s sake — but I guess that quality just naturally creeps into my tone at times, unconsciously. Perhaps an occupational hazard of being a professor? Or at least, a hazard in the situations in which I increasingly found myself.
“Strip,” ordered, Paul.
“Yes, sir. May I stand for a moment?”
Paul nodded his ascent. I quickly removed my shoes, socks, shirt and jeans, and stood before them in my panties and chastity cage.
“Obeisance here means you drop down onto your belly, you clasp your hands behind your back and you slither like the worm you are to your superior’s feet and kiss each one reverently. Obeisance!”
I was standing several feet away from them. I did exactly what Paul described, finding that the only way to propel myself forward from that position was to grind my crotch into the floor. Not only was it incredibly uncomfortable, but I feared that my chastity cage might scratch their hardwood floor. Fortunately, there was an area rug covering most of the space separating us, so I was able to slide myself — indeed, “slither” was the correct word — towards their feet. Figuring ladies first, I planted kisses on Anna’s lovely bare feet, followed by Paul’s socked feet.
Paul asked me, “Where is Luke today?”
Still prostrate on my belly, inches from their toes, I answered, “He is traveling today, sir.”
“Overnight?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What about your wife?”
“She is working tonight.”
“You didn’t say, ‘sir.’ That’s one demerit. At the restaurant?”
I had never said anything to them about Brooke’s job, even during Paul’s initial interrogation of me at O’Riordans. His detailed knowledge of my life was unsettling.
“Yes, sir.”
“What time does she get home? Don’t lie, I have my ways of checking.”
“Usually around 10:30 or so, sir.”
Anna interjected, “Good, you can work longer than two hours, then. The condo is a disaster, and we’re having a little get together on Thursday. That little bitch, Chrissy, said her mother is sick. Supposedly. So she wasn’t able to clean on Sunday. You have your work cut out for you, professor maid. Where is your page uniform?”
Oh, no! Another order, I forgot. I didn’t hesitate to lie. “My wife wore the jacket today, princess. She occasionally likes to wear it.” Did Paul have ways of checking on that, too, I wondered.
“Bring it with you on Thursday. Fortunately, I picked out some other things for you to wear today. You’ll find your clothes on and next to the spanking bench in the dungeon. You can change in there and then present yourself to us before you start cleaning.”
“Yes, princess. Thank you.”
As I walked upstairs to the dungeon, I was still trying to process Anna’s extremely troubling remark a moment earlier. Not the fact that I had to work longer than two hours, nor that the condo was especially messy. Rather, it was the fact that they were planning on inviting guests on Thursday, the day I was to spend four hours with them, including preparing and serving them dinner. They had promised me that I wouldn’t be subjected to further exposure. Still, I had to risk asking, at some point, who they planned to invite to their “little get together.”
Expecting to find a maid’s uniform in the dungeon, I was not completely mistaken. Draped over the spanking bench were sheer black, thigh high stockings and a garter belt as well as a white lace maid’s cap. On the floor next to the bench were a pair of what appeared to be brand new, black high heels. Presumably, these were purchased specifically for me and would not painfully pinch my feet like Chrissy’s did.
The garter had a velcro clasp, so was relatively easy to put on. I initially struggled attaching the metal clasps to the thigh highs, but got those on as well. I then put the on the ridiculous cap. Finally, the most challenging part: the heels. They were my size, thankfully, but I was very unsteady in them, even partially twisting my ankle when I first tried to walk in them. Regarding myself in a large mirror hung inside the door to the dungeon, I looked utterly absurd, especially with my bare torso and rock-hard nipples.
Anna laughed loudly when I wobbled my way into the living room, where she and Paul were now reclining on the couch. My cock strained against its cage as I stood before my young monarchs, watching them scrutinize my ridiculously attired form.
“Don’t worry, professor. You’ll get used to the heels before you know it. Now let’s see you curtsy.”
The moment I was dreading. Should I confess to her that I had forgotten her instructions and beg her forbearance? Or should I wing it? I chose the latter, and chose unwisely. Not having a skirt to lift, I sort of mimicked lifting a phantom one and lamely bent my knees before standing straight again. There was no extending my right foot behind my left, no holding my position for two seconds when I bent my knees, no lowering my chin, no maintaining eye contact with my mistress. In other words, my improvisation was a dismal failure.
“That’s pathetic. Did you bother to practice at all?”, asked Anna, with a scowl.
“Yes, princess. Maybe I picked a bad how-to video.”
“You only watched one? You didn’t read anything about the different steps involved? It’s not hard to find instructions on Google. I checked myself. You either are lying to me or you’re a complete bimbo. Is it really true that we can’t leave marks on his ass.?”, she asked Paul.
“For now, yes, unfortunately. But I think I’ve figured out some ways to punish him that won’t leave any long lasting marks.”
“Good. He deserves it. Maybe a little pain will help you remember to do what we tell you to do in the future, and to do it properly,” said Anna to me.
“Yes, Princess Anna. I promise to study how to curtsy very carefully before Thursday.”
“You better. Including a deep curtsy.”
“But that doesn’t get you off the hook for fucking up today,” said Paul. “Now get busy.”
I gathered up their dirty laundry first (scattered throughout the apartment), and started a load. The condo was indeed a mess. I later learned that Paul and Anna simply never picked up after themselves. Why should they when they had a seemingly ever increasing stable of menials to do so for them. However, when one of the servants fell ill or for some other reason failed to clean on their allotted days, the next one paid the price, as I did that day. It was quite challenging walking in the heels, but Anna was correct that I got used to them fairly quickly. By the end of the nearly four hours I was with them that Tuesday, I was managing to walk in them reasonably steadily.
As I worked, I caught snippets of their conversation.
Anna said, “It’s a bummer we don’t get to control his cock.”
Paul replied, “I know. But I’m working on that. It’s going to take a little time.”
“That’s good. Without control of his cock, it doesn’t feel like he’s truly our slave, you know what I mean?”
“I do. Just be patient.”
“How do you plan to do it?” Anna glanced at me. “Or don’t you want him to hear?”
“I don’t care if he hears or not. There’s nothing he can do about it. The key is to make friends with Luke. He was willing to lend Rollins to us at the Ren fair when we asked. My guess is he’ll be willing to share him again. And regularly. Besides, Professor Larson told me Luke built a huge pool at his house. I’d love to swim there when the weather gets nice. Indoor pools just aren’t the same.”
I knew that Paul had taken one of Neil’s classes last year, but hearing that they had been in touch since the Ren fair — bonding over their shared love of swimming, no doubt — was concerning. I hoped that there wasn’t anything else they were bonding over.
Anna instructed me to use the Johnsons wax I had purchased to polish the expensive looking coffee table and end tables in their large living room. They watched TV as I worked around them, ordering me as they did last time to serve them drinks. The toothbrush was for me to clean the crevices in the tiled bathroom floor of the master bathroom. Anna said that the crevices made it difficult to thoroughly clean with a mop. That may have been true, but I suspected this was more about humiliation than cleanliness. She supervised me as knelt down and scrubbed the first few tiles, urging me to pay particular attention to those closest to the toilet. She stood in the entrance way, as I bent over with my panty-clad ass sticking out. Although my cock fought against its confines almost the entire time I was there that day, there were certain moments such as this that the throbbing was particularly unpleasant.
As I was mopping the kitchen floor, I heard an alarm go off.
“Get your ass in here!”, I heard Paul yell from the living room. “It’s time for your punishment. Normally, I don’t administer correction until a servant has completed all assigned tasks for the day, but since we can’t leave any visible marks on you for the time being, I’m going to make an exception for you. Five demerits from last week plus one from today. Not to mention your compete failure to learn how to properly curtsy. Get over my knees.”
“But what about the punishment lines, sir?”
“You’re questioning me? They were to address a separate issue: your idiotic obsession with academic integrity.”
“But, sir, didn’t you say that you would address my demerits on Thursday when I would be here longer?”
“That was before I knew you could stay here longer today. I intend to take advantage of it. But I’m also happy to administer part of your punishment today and part of it on Thursday. I’m sure that our guests will enjoy it.”
“Uh, sir, I was meaning to ask you about that. You, you…you and Princess Anna promised you wouldn’t tell anyone or show anyone…” My tongue was tied.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, professor. Our guests are Kelly and Archer,” said Anna.
“Archer, princess?”
“Archer is Kelly’s boyfriend. You two go way back. He saw you cleaning Luke’s truck in a speedo and you cleaned his muddy boots at the Ren fair. That was so much fun!, Anna giggled.
“What are you waiting for?,” Paul snapped.
I walked over to him and lay across his knees. Across the knees of my student, dressed as some fetishized maid. It was a truly surreal moment.
“The advantage of a hand spanking is that it can hurt quite a bit, but it won’t leave marks. The redness will fade in a couple of hours, and I think I know how to go right up to the edge of leaving bruises without actually leaving them. The key is lots of repetition. I’m going to give you twenty spanks for each demerit. Normally, it would only be ten, but that’s when I’m using a paddle, strap or crop. Or cane. We will inspect your cleaning when you’re done, and any additional demerits you earn today will be addressed on Thursday.” Paul rubbed my bottom with his hand as he spoke, a sensual exertion of control that I did not expect.
“Did you ever think you’d get to spank one of your professors?”, Anna asked her boyfriend with almost childlike delight.
“Great to check this one off the bucket list. Someday, I’d like to have a Senator or Governor over my knees.”
“How about the President?”
“You never know. There are submissive cucks and closet masochists in all walks of life.”
And with that observation, Paul’s hand came down hard on my panty-clad bottom. It came down again and again. The first strike hurt, but it was the cumulative effect that really turned this hand spanking into a tear-inducing punishment. I managed to be fairly stoic until about the 30th strike. By around the 50th, I was kicking my legs. Eventually I kicked with sufficient force that both of my heels came off. Although my sheer panties offered next to no protection, about midway through my punishment, Paul pulled them down and struck me on my bare bottom. Around the same time the tears came, I started squirming around on Paul’s lap.
“Stay still!”
I tried, but as the spanks kept coming, I continued to squirm on his lap. Paul then reached between my legs and firmly grabbed my balls. That certainly got my attention.
As he squeezed them, Paul said, “Do you think you can be still now?”
‘Yes, sir. I do!”
Through great exertion of will, I was able to remain still as Paul delivered the final twenty or strokes. He pushed me roughly off his lap onto the floor after he finished.
“Normally, I would now make you stand in the corner with your ass on display for 30 minutes or so, but I want to make sure you have time to finish cleaning.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes and replied, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Anna sat down next to Paul on the couch and, inserting her hand into his sweatpants. said, “That was hot. Did it excite you as much as it did me? Oh, I can feel that it did! Let’s go fuck on our freshly made bed.”
“Sounds good, babe. If we’re quick, he can wash the sheets again before he leaves.”
Which is exactly what happened.
Before I left, Anna left me detailed instructions for the meal I was to prepare on Thursday.
It was 9:30 PM by the time I got home. Given that Luke was away, I was hoping Brooke would release me when she got home and give me footjob or maybe even allow me to make love to her like she did on Thanksgiving. As exhausted as I was, I had been in a near constant state of frustrated sexual arousal throughout the day and its myriad humiliations, and I was dying to be released.
Unfortunately, Brooke had a difficult night at the restaurant (two men who hit on her, and one who stiffed her after she politely rebuffed him) and was in a foul mood. So instead of being released, I spent still more time on my truly aching knees, giving her a long foot massage through her sweaty stockings as she silently watched TV.
That was still the highlight of my long, long day.

I work in a niche field for a company that has one of the largest programs in my specialty. I’be been there 20 years in several different roles. I’m contacted by recruiters 4-5 times a year either through LinkedIn or my company email. 99% of the time it’s for a position that I’m not interested in at all. I’m generally very happy in my role and would need a really exceptional opportunity to leave. A few weeks ago, while traveling for work, I was contacted by a an executive recruiter with a position description that is one of the very, very few opportunities I would actually consider going for. I also feel that I’m a legitimately strong candidate.
The recruiter had offered a 20 minute conversation that week but we weren’t able to find a time that worked (I was traveling at work retreat and very over-scheduled/surrounded by colleagues). She ended up being on vacation for the next 2 weeks but didn’t tell me that in our back and forth. The role description and the company’s website says to apply to send resume and cover letter to her and to one other person at her firm. From scoping things out I think the person who contacted me is the more junior recruiter for the role. I also think they’ve been actively recruiting for a while and may be pretty far down the road in interviewing candidates. I haven’t applied for a job in a decade so it took me a while to work on my resume and cover letter, but I went ahead and applied, sending it in to both recruiters. It was about 2 weeks after I was first contacted.
Was it bad that I went ahead and applied without doing a screening call?
I know this varies a lot, but what should I expect as a next step? If they aren’t interested or the search is too far along should i expect a reply?

I know Robbie isn't supposed to be likable, he isn't, he is supposed to be Dipper's rival and antagonist when it comes to dealing with his first crush towards Wendy, and on the top of that, an angsty and insecure teenager that comes off as a bully to cover his insecurities. With that, I have zero complains, but my problem with this character is how the show purposefully ignores his wrongdoings or tries to play them off as if it wasn't anything serious while also purposefully trying to pin the blame on Dipper. I mean, let's rewind:
Robbie appears for the first time in The Inconveniencing Store episode where he is presented as one of Wendy's friends, and the guy who painted a giant explosion that Dipper confuses for a big muffin, not out of malice or anything, litterally just a confusion. Just for that mistake, Robbie starts to bully Dipper ALL the way through the episode and the entire show, and remember, this is even BEFORE Robbie thought about asking Wendy out, so by this point there was zero rivarly, it all came from Robbie exclusively. Imagine, being seventeen years old and bullying a twelve year old kid JUST cause he mistook your drawing, talk about thin skin.
Then, through the next couple of episodes, we still see him acting like a jerk towards both Dipper and Mabel for no reason, and once he starts dating Wendy, not only he doesn't stop, he becomes possessive, he litterally pushes Dipper away from Wendy when they are just playing at the arcade and gets defensive and practically reinforcing that he is her boyfriend, practically marking territory, raising his voice to empathize his point and act like a victim, holding her closer while glaring at Dipper. Seriously, it's one thing to be insecure, but THIS? Dipper is a little kid and he is one year away from adulthood. And it's clearly stablished that he is a terrible boyfriend who absolutely ignores Wendy and doesn't listen to her and is ready to ditch her, as we see in Fight Fighters and Boyz Crazy. And what's his reaction? He BULLIES Dipper, threatens him, mocks him, and tries to humilliate him in front of Wendy, and when that obviously backfires, tries to beat him up and scare him off, multiple times, it took him nearly getting killed by the videogame character and Dipper accepting his fate to drop it cause it wasn't gonna work.
But what's the worst to me is his behaviour in Boyz Crazy and The Love God: in here, Robbie tries to go out on a date with Wendy, which ends up in an argument because Wendy calls him out for standing her up the previous night and talks about how their relationship wasn't working and she wanted to break up. And what does he do? He pulls out a CD that clearly to mind control her to keep her from breaking up with him, all while smiling evilly and taking her to a meeting point alone, as he claims to himself ALL of this was planned. I know Alex claimed that it wasn't intended to be true and that the CD wasn't supposed to work, but he himself admits that, while that was their intention, the episode ended up being writen and executted in a way that it DOES look like she got mind controlled because, Wendy litterally goes from being furious at him to kiss him in less than twenty seconds after listening the song and changes her behaviour completely, which is something that we have seen before, Robbie is constantly acting sketchy and bragging how he planned it all along, and when Dipper exposes an evidence of this, he doesn't act shocked, no, he reacts as someone who was caught in the act, meaning that he knew about this. It can't be justified either with "We are seeing it from Dipper's point of view so of course he is going to look evil" because this is Gravity Falls, mind control is COMMON in this series, it happened before this episode and Robbie has seen at least twice that the supernatural is real, therefore he knows about the existance of it. What Robbie pulled here is the equivalent of roofying his girlfriend to keep her from breaking up with him and it's messed up. But what's worse? Is that the show PORTRAYS it as Dipper being the one breaking the relationship, Stan's own words, when we have litterally seen the relationship was going to end up breaking up from the start of the episode, before even Dipper tried to get in the way, furthermore, Dipper didn't interfere until he had actual evidence of it, so he was respectful of their boundaries. He only acted once he had real proof that Wendy was getting abused, and the narrative tries to portray this as something wrong? You're telling me you shouldn't interfere in a relationship when abuse is involved? From a friend? What kind of message is that?
Sure, Wendy ends up breaking up with Robbie and rightfully so, but...no one shuns him out, as they all left clear in The Love God that he was the one who isolated himself, Wendy isn't even mad at him anymore even if she definitely should for how he treated her and what he did to her. It's Robbie the one who shuns himself out and instead of self-reflecting on his actions, litterally blames Dipper for ruinning his life, his own words (seriously, what kind of teenager writes on the walls "Die Dipper Die" (sure, a Simpson reference, but still creepy and psychopathic as heck) and keeps a picture of a twelve year old to throw knives at?). And the story doesn't force him to reallize of his actions, it takes his words as true and it's left for Mabel to get him a girlfriend, which, I'm sorry, that's not getting him redeemed, it's just enabling his horrible behaviour. And let's not even talk about how the series portrays Dipper in the wrong for saving Wendy from being mind control because he got in the middle of her relationship with Robbie, but then the narrative sees completely okay Mabel getting in the middle of the relationship of Robbie and Tambry and the entire friend group. His arc ends up not with him apologizing or acknowledging his wrondoings, he never does, he ends up getting rewarded without doing zero effort. And the show tries to portray that this is the right thing to do cause he is happy.
As much as the show tries to portray Robbie as insecure, he litterally has NO reason to behave like such a neglectful abusive jerk with everyone around him: sure, he's a teenager and has his insecurities, but has an entire group of friends that support him, plays in his own music band, had a great girlfriend that he supposedly adores, and yet he still chooses to be a bully to a twelve year old, ditch his girlfriend and standing her up whenever he pleases and even mind controlling her, acts like a jerk with his friends and so on, and yet the show tries to justify ALL of this with "he is insecure". Do you know who is also insecure? Dipper, and Stan, and many other characters, NONE of them get their actions or wrondoings justified because of having insecurities. And most of all, according to the narrative, Robbie's actions are BLAMED ON DIPPER, and they leave it as true. Like, what the heck?! I'm not even joking, there's also people in the fandom who actually claim Dipper should have apologized to Robbie for "standing in the way of a relationship", because, of course, Robbie apparently gets a pass for trying to beat up a child and roofying his girlfriend for being an insecure stupid teenager and is justified, and Dipper gets the blame for standing up to him.
I'm sorry, I seriously can't understand what Alex saw in this character to show him this kind of compassion that sure as heck he never deserved.
​
​

I'm writing this after enrolling in the Interview Kickstart program (interviewkickstart.com) last October.
For background, I am still an early software engineer with almost 2 years of experience. I graduated with a Bachelor's in Computer Science in late 2020. I have about 1.25 years experience at Amazon Web Services as a back-end engineer for Elastic Block Store, and then about 4 months of experience with Pride Automation Inc working as a full-stack engineer with Node.JS.
The Interview Kickstart program is good because it covers everything you need to get a higher paying software engineering job. I did the Early Engineering LevelUp program (~2 months with a 6 month support period after). It covers most programming topics asked in interviews, and you will do a lot of problems like the ones on LeetCode. You have class 1-2 times a week and can ask questions. Then, they go over basic application stuff like resumes, reaching out to recruiters, and behavioral interviews. It is great if you need the motivation and guidance to do all these things. They provide mock behavioral and technical interviews performed by people in the industry, so that is one of the best forms of practice. They also have miscellaneous sessions to ask questions about resumes (and get it reviewed), specific technical problems, or about the industry in general.
Their customer service is always responsive and helpful. I have had no issues with them.
I ended up getting a job because of a referral from my cousin after about 2 months into the program. I unfortunately got let go recently, so I will be finishing up the IK program to help me find another job since the support period is still available for me.
I hope this helps anyone considering joining the program.

Writing the following as objectively as possible:
My dad and I are in a terrible dispute, we haven't spoken in 6 years because of the following issue:
He bought a house with his pension funds and placed the house solemnly on my name. Told me to sign the offer to purchase. He said: "I love you my son. In this way I'm avoiding gift tax, and I trust you will share this house with your sister one day".
We both then lived in this house together, with my dad still in 'authority' regarding paying the bills etc. I was not expected to pay rent or anything like that. At this point my dad has been clean of drug use for three years when we moved in.
My dad then got cheated in a business deal, felt depressed and fell back into his drug habits. He started smoking crystal meth. This is after we've stayed in the house for about a year.
It became an evil nightmare in the house to put it lightly. I myself was not partaking in drug use. Had to often take him to the hospital/ psyc ward. The police was often on the scene, etc. At one point while he was mad on drugs, he shouted "You no longer deserve this house! You will transfer it back to me! It's the least you can do, is give me that respect!
Eventually after more than a year of hell, he was sent against his will to a strict rehab program, for a year.
While he was in rehab, the bank phoned me and said that he is blacklisted, has a huge overdraft and was behind on credit cards.
I had to make a plan for income. I got agents to start advertising the property for rent income. Some of the furniture was damaged, some still in good condition. The agent advised that it will be easier to get tenants if the house is unfurnished, rather than the state it is in now.
I was still traumatized and too scared to contact my dad. I proceeded to sell some of his furniture without his permission, to clear the house. I could then buy paint and other materials needed to fix up the house. I also had to remove a wall that was causing the garage to be unusable. I also moved out and rented a room/ bachelor flat.
I finally got tenants for rent income at the house, and started paying off my dad's debt with the banks. The rates and taxes were also in major arrears. This process of sorting out the house and getting tenants took long, a few months, as I was also working 6 days a week at my key cutting job.
I was also struggling financially and sometimes had to resort to use some of the rent income to survive. Also due to that I now also had my own rent to pay. I am 23 at this point.
My dad phoned me from rehab and started accusing me of theft. Stealing his furniture etc. He continued to be aggressive and insulting towards me, which made me wonder if rehab had actually worked because he is still the same angry person, which isn't the character he was before drug use.
I have since kept the house rented out, and payed him a monthly salary which is about 60% of the rental income. About 20% for maintenance, agent commission, and taxes. And then 20% for personal use as I've been struggling often to remain independent, even though I'm working hard everyday. My dad has no more debt, due to the rental income.
So the house which is legally 100% mine, helps me survive financially and keeps things stable as to my dad having a monthly income.
My dad still accuses me of theft and that keeping some of the rent is theft. Also that we can never have a relationship again if I don't transfer the property back to him. He insists it is his property as he is the one who bought it.
Please help me. What does God think of me? Am I doing the right thing? Must I give my dad the property back? He's been clean 3-4 years now, but what if he uses drugs again? If I use some of the rent, am I stealing from him? Whose house is it?

With the recent protests going on, I'm not sure what my position is on protesting in a disruptive manner (e.g. blocking roads, encampments).
What I hear in favour of these protests is that "protests are meant to be disruptive", and that disruption has been a powerful tool for change. The question I have to ask is, "why do they have to be disruptive?" To me there are only 2 answers.

1. They need to get attention for their cause
   
2. They need to be disruptive to put pressure on the government to act how they want
   

The first one is somewhat understandable, but this sort of attention can be gathered through various other means (e.g. non disruptive protests). Though the extent that this works may vary.
The second one is more questionable. If you don't have voting rights, this makes sense, as you do not have the ability to represent your interests politically. But when you can vote, it's somewhat different, as you are trying to pressure the government into doing something different than what they were voted into doing. In other words, your influence on the government becomes more powerful than the influence of the average voter, somewhat subverting the democratic will of the people.
The common counterpoint is that the US isn't a democracy due to the 2 party system and corporate lobbying. Idk to what extent this is true, but I also question whether, if they did view the country as a democracy, if this would change their mind.
The utilitarian calculation determines that disruption is less damaging to society than the problem protestors are protesting is. However, this logic could be used to justify any act. Firebombing a Walmart is less damaging to society than climate change, so does that mean that if firebombing was an effective method of protest, that it would be morally justified to do in the name of climate change?
A friend of mine once asked, "let's say that the train drivers all go on strike to protest climate change, that would be disruptive but morally justified. How is that different to a protestor jumping on the tracks to stop the trains from moving. They're both disruptive"
I don't actually know the answer to this question. It does seem that the only differences between the 2 are that one of them is legal and is the worker exercising their own autonomy, while the other is illegal. I responded with the analogy of "let's say all the nurses go on strike to protest climate change, and due to staffing issues more people die in hospitals. Is that the same as somebody going around killing people in the name of climate change?" I'm not actually sure if this disproves the arguement tho.
At the same time, minor incidents of disruption, like throwing soup on a painting covered in glass, doesn't really bother me, as it's a minor inconvenience which causes no damage and gets a lot of attention.
This is the outline of my thoughts. Lemme know what you guys think.

This is going to be a long one, but I would really use your help. Also Charlotte, big fan <3
I (28F) have a sister (20F) who came out as transsexual last year. For the sake of understanding I'll paint a quick picture of our family, our parents are divorced for several years but are amicable and everyone on the family talks with each other. So the Mom's side of the family accepted my sister, part of them got a little confused with the whole situation, but everyone respected it. My Dad's part of the family is a whole different story, my father is really that type of person that thinks women are less than men, and any member of the LGB+ community is a confused individual and something is very wrong with them, his mother, our grandmother, it's exactly the same and pretty much always follows my dad's opinion regardless of if it's correct or not.
So my sister before she came out was the golden child of the family, a very shy boy but with great grades, very caring and respectful with everyone, never caused any problem and was always ready to help everyone, while I was always the black sheep, I'm also a very caring person, but I won't shut up when I see something wrong and that always came out as being rude to the Father side of the family. We live in Europe, and we are not poor, but we live with some difficulties, money needs to be well thought through in order for us to be able to pay everything and have a little to expend outside bills, and it was always like this.
When I finished school at 18yo I wanted to go to college, however that was not an option for me, my Dad's side of the family wouldn't help to pay for it and my Mom who earned minimum wage couldn't afford it, so I started working and never got that opportunity. My Sister however, since my Mother felt so guilty I didn't have that opportunity asked for a loan in order to send my Sister to the best college for the course she wanted to pursuit with the condition that my sister would work and help pay the load, like 30% each month until she finished and could pay it herself after finishing school.
Everything was well during the first 2 years of college, however on the 3rd and last year my sister came out and all hell broke loose. My sister came out to the side of my Mom's family first, which we all supported, but we asked her to do things correctly, to search for medical assistance with the transition and to wait before she changed her name because of the loan and the fact she was unemployed at the time.
My sister came out to my Dad the WORST WAY POSSIBLE. Basically me, my mother and my sister were at my Dad's house so that my sister could speak with him, and she just stared out with "I'm transgender, its confirmed by the doctors I have gender dysphorbia and I already started taking estrogen and bla bla"... Like the whole hormone difficult names for a very confused man who heard this for the first time in the span of 3 seconds. My mother was mortified, I just facepalmed, and my sister just thought this was the correct way and showed an arrogance on her face I've never seen before, like the world was hers and hers alone, and everyone needed to respect it no matter what, and if they didn't, she just didn't cared.
My Father got very angry and very confused, which in my opinion was completely normal based on the way the whole conversation went through, to the point that I order my mother and sister to leave the house in order for me to try to calm down my Father and just try to explain the situation calmly. It backfired on me of course, my Father cursed, yelled, everything to take the anger out on me which was the only person present and we got in a huge argument, where he told me something is wrong and my sister must have been influenced by someone, which I told him no, that's not the case, and although he didn't accepted he needed to respect it. Which he refused and thats about it.
For better understanding - My parents divorced due to domestic violance, my father is an agressive man specially when he's angry, although he never touched me or my sister, it traumatized me enough to order them to leave the house when my sister came out because I was honestly afraid. She just blurred out the information without letting him think and thats where I think she was wrong on. And thats also the reason why me and my mom were present, we knew the conversation would turn sour somehow and we didnt let my sister have that conversation alone with him.
Fast forward a few months, my father cannot look my sister in the eyes, and whenever he speaks with her is always with anger and hurt in his voice, and my sister personality changed completely. She started being rude with everyone, she would get mad if we talked with her with "He/His" pronouns, which I understand but we spent 20 years calling "him" by that name, speaking with "him" like that and that's not something we just change in a day, it's a process the same as it is for her. She stopped caring, she became hostile with everyone for no reason like a mad teenager girl and the only person who she respected and was "normal" was with me, because in no hell on earth would I allow it otherwise and she knew. She's the person I love most in the world and she knows, and she understands that her attitude towards me would not work as I would pull her back to earth and call her out every time if necessary.
So with this new hellish personality she gained, she did exactly what we asked her to NOT DO, which was change her name. Now my sister changed her name for a very "stripper" name common in our country, which is her choice, and I'm not discriminating, but that did not help with the whole family and unemployment situation. I do agree that I can be judgemental on this topic, I won't say the name but it's something in the likes of "Sugarhoney" for exemple, which for me it's not a normal name but I can accept judment as well. And, besides the fact that she identifies as a female, she's not one "yet"... She still has all the features of a male young adult with 20 years, very deep voice, very male way to dress up, to speak, to eat, to sit, to talk, which is the part that confuses me, she wanted everyone to look at her as a female but the only female thing about her is not having facial hair, she doesn't try to change anything else, but that's a whole other problem I guess.
This caused a lot of problems, by this time she's unemployed for an entire year and its 20yo, my mother is struggling still with her minimum wage job, working part-time in a restaurant on the weekends to pay for the loan that my sister should have been able to help pay or at least help, she's exhausted, she fears that if she stops playing the loan on the college the bank will take her house, and my sister couldn't be less bothered. She didn't care. Which is when I started being more involved.
I live close to my mother on my apartment with my boyfriend, but I cannot help financially, so my mother comes to me just asking for advice and to cry a little basically, I called my sister out, asked if she thought it was ok the whole situation she's putting our mother through, the fact that she shows like she doesn't care, that she doesn't look at all like someone who's trying to find a job to help and is spending money on useless things like pokemon plushies and expensive backpacks and whatever more she buys and not giving a cent to our mother to help with her loan.
For that conversation she was back to the sister I knew, she was humble and told me she's trying but it's difficult, she showed me scars on her that she did by self hurting and it broke my heart because I didn't know. However, I explained to her that we all have problems, and like I didn't know what she was going through, she didn't know what the other people were going through, and it's important to respect everyone and to recognize our problems and search for help, myself for example a year before that thought of suicide and just called my mom to be honest with her and ask for help, ask for medical assistance, and I'm fine now, and she knew about it, it was just a very bad period of my life and I told her I knew what it felt like, but she was not alone, she never was and I saw it on her eyes that she knew it as well. After that conversation, I asked my mother to try to understand her better and to give her time, and that everything would be all right.
Oh was I wrong. It somehow got worse, like the whole conversation never happened, my sister just started leaving the house without saying where she was going, returning in the middle of the night or just the day after without a word to my very concerned mother, and when she arrived home she just yelled back and forward with my mother like she hold all reasoning in the world. Truly like a spoiled little bitch. My Mother got tired of this attitude and told her that she was in her house, and she needed to respect her, which didn't work.
A month after this, my mother received a text message from my sister saying she left home, just that, and when my mother arrived home, everything on my sister room was missing, as well as some kitchen stuff, like the microwave cover and dish for exemple. My mother was shocked and she called me telling me the story: So my sister arrived home and put the bags in front of my grandmothers house (my mother's mom, who lives in the same building but on the first floor, who has Alzheimer and it's a very fragile woman with some age with a heart of gold). My grandmother hear the noise in the building and went to see what happened, just to see my sister with all the bags leaving home. This sent my dear grandmother to a panic attack, she cried so much and was so confused and nervous about the whole situation especially since my dumbass sister just told her "I'm leaving" and disappeared.
When my mother told me I absolutely lost it, I called my sister yelling from the top of my lungs asking how could she be so selfish, so heartless to make this decision like this, not considering anyone besides herself and making our grandmother cry, she mostly didn't reply I believe because of guilt, at this point I'm so angry and hurt I'm crying on the phone, I told her how can she expect me to protect her and to defend her when she does this, and that I will never forgive her for making our grandmother cry and I just hung up.
The next day she was at my door step, wanting to speak with me, and I accepted it, we spoke and she just said she didn't mean to do that to our grandmother, but she needed to leave, she said she couldn't stay at the house and that she went to live with her girlfriend and her parents. That she didnt feel good in our mothers house and thats why she didnt accept many of the job offers she received, because she wanted some place to work where she felt good, since she wasnt feeling good at home. I told her that the problems she had at home were because she was not working, because she wouldn't help pay the loan, and asked her how could she be living with another family with no way to help with the bills. She replied that at this point she will accept any job and will pay the loan and help the family she lives with. And that some friends gave her money.
The family she lives with is pooer than us, they don't have the basic needs for a "normal" life, they didn't have a microwave for exemple, which my sister bought for them and thats why she stole the things from our mom's house. At the time I'm writing this they dont have heated water, it's very concerning. I just told her I was disappointed and she needed to apologise to our mother and grandmother, and that if she chose to go through this path I would still be there, but that she needed to be humble. She left after that. This is were things changed for me.
My sister now only speaks with family to ask for money, she goes home when my mother is not there to steal things, she goes dinner to my grandmothers houses to get money and as soon as they give her money she leaves. She had the keys to my Fathers and Grandmother (Father side) house and went there when they were not home to steal more things of low value like kitchen utensils and stuff, all things that everyone on the family would gadly give away to her if she asked. On one ocasion she went to my Grandmother's (Father side) house when they were on vacation to sleep without telling anyone and my Grandmother arrived to the house turned upside down, kitchen dirty, bedrooms with the bed's undone. She probably went there with someone since she asked my other grandmother for money to buy condoms. When my grandparents realized that they just took the keys from her but never spoke about the situation, only with me.
I've always defended my sister, but I feel like I can't anymore, I hear all this situations from the family and I feel embaressed, the last time she spoke to me was to ask me for 200€ to buy a new phone, while i see her on instagram stories how she spends like 60€ on a damn razor, like what the hell? I refused to help her saying that I also have bills to pay and told everyone on the family to stop giving her money, as I feel she needs to learn that if she wants something she needs to work for it as everyone else and take responsability, shes 20 years old damn it, almost 21 since her birthday is literally this month. Theres still 4 years left on the loan, and my mother is still crying over the whole situation, with no perpective of how it will be paid, and my sister showing no remorse or concern.
So AITA for telling my family to stop helping my Sister? Also, any opinions on what I should do in this situation?
​

i have to pick my partner or my family
hi i (22f) am from conservative muslim family. my parents r immigrants who struggled very hard to make it here in the west, and to this day we are still struggling as a lower income household. for a bit of background my family consists of my mom (43f) my dad (55m), and my three younger siblings. i have been financially cut off since i was 18 and have a history of being a « trouble child ». i was abused at age four by daycare workers and later on by my islamic school teacher, and can vividly remember receiving beatings from my mom at a very young age if i recited wrong or misbehaved. these beating continued up until i was around 14/15 and it stopped but i was beat again for failing maths multiple times in highschool at age 16. thats the last time i recall either parents trying to physically harm me.
i have had multiple breakdowns in front of my parents over the way they treat me. the biggest one happened one week into lockdown march 2020 where my mom caught my trying to cut myself with a knife in my room and she dragged me n my sister in front of my father n proceeded to yell at me while i cried. saying if i want to die that im going to hell, that self harm is haram, that im sick for doing this in the precence of my sister. since then ive distanced myself greatly from my parents and family. my dad follows her lead and had never stood up for meto her, but he can get violent and reckless as he has a history of mental illness. multiple things over the years have built up to this point. my mother believe i will corrupt her other children and that i need to be reformed and seek god. as a result i pulled away more and only leave my room to eat food and shower. i used to help around the house alot but now i hide so she thinks ive become lazy when really id rather not deal with her micromanging everything i do. in highschool and middle school i was not allowed to hang out with friends, go to the mall, visit friends houses, or go out on my own. as a result i was very depressed, hardly ate and spent all my time isolated from her.
now i am 22 and am almost done university, i have a partner (22m) i love very much and am very blessed to have. since starting uni at 19 ive been taking steps to be independent. my bank account, devices, and schooling are all in my name, purchased and handled by me. they have no access to any of it. my bf is of a different race, we have a one year age gap, hes more independent than me but also lives at home w his parents. (cost of living is terrible here so moving out solo or renting an apt is impossible). since before meeting my bf was intending to revert to islam at his own pace. meeting me however changed things and he says im the blessing from god that hes needed to make his choice. me and him have alot in common and we havent gone one day without talkin since we met last winter. he truly is my bestfriend and ive introduced him to all my friends including my chilldhood bff who knows exactly what my household is like and parents. my younger sister as well approved of him and while shes grossed out by seeing my giggle on the phone, shes happy for me.
our plan was to date for a yr or so and then gradually open discussion to meeting my parents(ive met his and his family is v accepting of me). my bf is very alternative in terms of style and is covered in tattoos. my father will never accept it depite islam allowing children free reign to pick their own life partner. my mom has since found out about my bf about a week ago and yday gave me an ultimatum. she said if i pick him and choose my « temporary feelings » that my dad will flip out and probably go to jail in an attempt to ruin my bf and his familys lives. she said if i go that i can never come back and that i will lose acess to my siblings because she wont allow me to corrupt them. that she will tell the community that i went abroad and i can go n live with him. since the beginning however, my bf n his mom have made it clear if i have nowhere to go that i can live w them and pay 300 a month in rent, that i can continue going to school. back to my mom, if i pick my family she expects me to sacrifie essentially everything ive worked for including my financial independence, she means no job, no university, no seeing friends, not allowed to ever see my bf, and only leaving the house under supervision of a family member. she also says ill have to go back islamic school, that i will need to reform and change my myself into a religious person. that after that maybe if he converts and is sincere that she will not stop us from getting married. she says rn that we have her support on the bais that we get married and do things the “right” way. i cant tell if she bluffing but my bf and friends say this is her again trying to control me. yesterday i broke down n read her some of the passages of my childhood diary from ages 9-15 n she cried hearing that ive been suicidal ial for ages and that i know she resents me. she apologized for letting me think she hates me. she asked me to write a list of things i want to change n boundaries and whatnot and that we can work to a solution together but i have a feeling its just a front mt bc of what she said to me initially. im heartbroken i genuinely do not want to lose my family but i also question how long i can continue if i pick her terms. i am severely depressed and still struggle with suicidal thoughts. what is the best course of action from here? any advice is appreciated and im open to answering any questions.

hi i (22f) am from conservative muslim family. my parents r immigrants who struggled very hard to make it here in the west, and to this day we are still struggling as a lower income household. for a bit of background my family consists of my mom (43f) my dad (55m), and my three younger siblings (20f,14m,5f). i have been financially cut off since i was 18 and have a history of being a « trouble child ». i was abused at age four by daycare workers and later on by my islamic school teacher, and can vividly remember receiving beatings from my mom at a very young age if i recited wrong or misbehaved. these beating continued up until i was around 14/15 and it stopped but i was beat again for failing maths multiple times in highschool at age 16. thats the last time i recall either parents trying to physically harm me.
i have had multiple breakdowns in front of my parents over the way they treat me. the biggest one happened one week into lockdown march 2020 where my mom caught my trying to cut myself with a knife in my room and she dragged me n my sister in front of my father n proceeded to yell at me while i cried. saying if i want to die that im going to hell, that self harm is haram, that im sick for doing this in the precence of my sister. since then ive distanced myself greatly from my parents and family. my dad follows her lead and had never stood up for meto her, but he can get violent and reckless as he has a history of mental illness. multiple things over the years have built up to this point. my mother believe i will corrupt her other children and that i need to be reformed and seek god. as a result i pulled away more and only leave my room to eat food and shower. i used to help around the house alot but now i hide so she thinks ive become lazy when really id rather not deal with her micromanging everything i do. in highschool and middle school i was not allowed to hang out with friends, go to the mall, visit friends houses, or go out on my own. as a result i was very depressed, hardly ate and spent all my time isolated from her.
now i am 22 and am almost done university, i have a partner (22m) i love very much and am very blessed to have. since starting uni at 19 ive been taking steps to be independent. my bank account, devices, and schooling are all in my name, purchased and handled by me. they have no access to any of it. my bf is of a different race, we have a one year age gap, hes more independent than me but also lives at home w his parents. (cost of living is terrible here so moving out solo or renting an apt is impossible). since before meeting my bf was intending to revert to islam at his own pace. meeting me however changed things and he says im the blessing from god that hes needed to make his choice. me and him have alot in common and we havent gone one day without talkin since we met last winter. he truly is my bestfriend and ive introduced him to all my friends including my chilldhood bff who knows exactly what my household is like and parents. my younger sister as well approved of him and while shes grossed out by seeing my giggle on the phone, shes happy for me.
our plan was to date for a yr or so and then gradually open discussion to meeting my parents(ive met his and his family is v accepting of me). my bf is very alternative in terms of style and is covered in tattoos. my father will never accept it depite islam allowing children free reign to pick their own life partner. my mom has since found out about my bf about a week ago and yday gave me an ultimatum. she said if i pick him and choose my « temporary feelings » that my dad will flip out and probably go to jail in an attempt to ruin my bf and his familys lives. she said if i go that i can never come back and that i will lose acess to my siblings because she wont allow me to corrupt them. that she will tell the community that i went abroad and i can go n live with him. since the beginning however, my bf n his mom have made it clear if i have nowhere to go that i can live w them and pay 300 a month in rent, that i can continue going to school. back to my mom, if i pick my family she expects me to sacrifie essentially everything ive worked for including my financial independence, she means no job, no university, no seeing friends, not allowed to ever see my bf, and only leaving the house under supervision of a family member. she also says ill have to go back islamic school, that i will need to reform and change my myself into a religious person. that after that maybe if he converts and is sincere that she will not stop us from getting married. she says rn that we have her support on the bais that we get married and do things the “right” way. i cant tell if she bluffing but my bf and friends say this is her again trying to control me. yesterday i broke down n read her some of the passages of my childhood diary from ages 9-15 n she cried hearing that ive been suicidal ial for ages and that i know she resents me. she apologized for letting me think she hates me. she asked me to write a list of things i want to change n boundaries and whatnot and that we can work to a solution together but i have a feeling its just a front mt bc of what she said to me initially. im heartbroken i genuinely do not want to lose my family but i also question how long i can continue if i pick her terms. i am severely depressed and still struggle with suicidal thoughts.
any response is appreciated n my dms r open n i can answer any questions so pls ask

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My boyfriend, let's call him Byoomth, is having a particularly hard time right now. We're both homeless, in Phoenix nonetheless. We've been living outta trash cans and accepting donations for food, and living far up on a mountain, which is sometimes difficult for him as he has an injury. I've been working on solving these problems in the ways that I can as a schizoaffective and autistic person - for instance, I managed to figure out how to get food stamps and I'm working on getting a government phone with service so I can hopefully get a job - but our conditions are only part of the problem.
Byoomth is a very special individual. He is the kindest, most compassionate person I know, he's intelligent af, and I have never witnessed him get angry, and I cherish him immensely for this, but…ugh how do I say this gently…he's really out there. He's a Buddhist, which I approve of, but he's taken the teachings of the Buddha and subsequent millenias of Suttas in a very dire direction. For instance, in order to, in his words, “correct the karma of the world,” he's taken extreme vows - to never handle any form of money, including things like his new food stamp card, to never enter a place of for-profit business, so like virtually any place at our disposal to get out of the desert heat, to never use a cell phone, even if I was dying or something and the only way to save me were to call for help, and, while he has not directly taken a vow against things like getting a job, he refuses to work for anyone that is not a certain level of enlightenment (so, like, all of his bosses and their bosses have to be arhats).
This goes further. Due to being dissatisfied with the circumstances that we are in, he is growing increasingly stressed and has several times tried to go on a 120 mile trek north with no food or water or shelter or ways to reasonably attain these things, let alone a plan for if and when he makes it to his destination. Furthermore, there is approximately a 25 mile stretch of practically barren terrain where there is absolutely no way to take care of any of his needs. He's just straight up left on a few of these instances without telling me he is leaving, and has come back in a terrible state, so I greatly fear for his safety. We've discussed the potential outcomes of this journey, one of which being he passes out, is found by a good Samaritan, after which he would be brought back to a hospital here, to which he said, “oh, I would just head out and try again.”
He believes in the magick side of Buddhism. I'm of a similar mindset (the world is an illusion/simulation, there are higher powers acting on us and this world, etc), but I'm more grounded in that I believe we have to keep our feet on the ground in order to survive and sustain ourselves. Like, he believes that because he has read a certain Sutta about snakes that he is completely protected from them, and does not show the appropriate caution when dealing with these critters, and has said he would not seek medical attention if he were bitten. It just makes me worry he's going to die.
Then there's an aspect of his beliefs that irks me. I joke in good faith that he's the “Technically Correct Buddha,” because he routinely studies the letter of the Suttas to find ways to skate around the spirit of the words of Buddhist authorities. I have a damn fine example for how this plays out, but I would be betraying his trust if I spoke about his habits. It's like the Buddha said “Don't drink soda” and he's laughing all the way to the bank because he interpreted an obscure Sutta in a way that permits diet soda. It's frustrating, because it effectively makes the teachings of the Buddha swiss cheese as he finds ways to bypass the literal meaning of everything. But, at the same time, he is incredibly dogmatic about certain things. It's very frustrating.
I try to use reason to bring him back down to reality, and I'm pretty with it given that the CIA trained me to be a messiah candidate (joke, but still I've got a substantial history of giving good advice in areas related to philosophy, spirituality, and mental health), but it's not enough. He always usually has some quote or reason that he uses to dispel my inputs, and when I definitively one up him and spout some logic that he can't directly refute, he just goes silent or walks away. It's like he made up his mind about being a certain way a long time ago and refuses to update his framework in the present. I've heard the term “Stone Buddha” before to refer to someone who achieved some level of enlightenment at some point, but did not keep traveling the path, so they bound themselves to new karmic fetters, but I have never been able to find this term used in this way again, so I don't know if it's accurate or even a real term.
I'm hurting right now because he's out there laying on the pavement in the hot sun as depressed as can be, but there's nothing I can do for him. I'm a spiritual leader of sorts - at least, I have my own edutainment project to help people self-actualize - and I have a lot of tools in my toolbox that could help someone like Byoomth, but it falls on deaf ears. I need to know how to frame these memetic tools so they will fall in alignment with his belief system. I just don't know what to do. Can anyone help me? What do I say to him that will make him see there is a better way that the Buddha wants him to live? Alternatively, how do I go about understanding why he chooses to live this way? I just want his suffering to stop so we can live a good life together. I love him so much, and I know he's going to read this, so please, offer any advice you have.

November 6th
Dad,
You probably won’t get this letter until after you recover from your medication high, but thank you for being understanding and not angry with me for going home tonight. I’ve spent the last 2 days taking care of you before your surgery and since your surgery and I just needed a little break. For such a strong man you sure are being a baby about a routine vasectomy. I know you have had worse pain in your life. It’s entertaining to see you all doped up on pain medication. You are funny, but really you need to stop overworking yourself. Lifting too much can cause healing complications. Just rest and hold Lydia. I have a good picture of you guys sleeping. You are holding her like she just might disappear. I wonder if you held me the same way when I was little.
I left a summary of your medication schedule on the fridge. No self-medicating please, I know you think you have every disease in the world but you don’t. Stop being a hypochondriac. I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you. I don’t know if I told you but I have a date tonight! I know you think it’s too soon for me to be dating after the breakup. I’ll be careful. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. It’s weird but for the first time I’m nervous about going on a date. I’m shaky and have this weird feeling in my stomach. I’m sure it will go great! You will hear about it either way. I have to run. It’s a long drive into town. I love you dad. Put the Superman cape in the closet and let me take care of you for a change.
You Loving Oldest Daughter
November 7th
My Dearest Daddy,
I found the unopened letter still taped to your laptop screen where I left it. You must have slept the whole afternoon. I laid in your spot in the bed for hours today. I needed to be away from people. I hate them normally, and I really hate them today. I didn’t make it here from town fast enough this morning to see you before the paramedics took you away. I did make it here in time to see he mess they left on the bedroom floor. The MRX defibrillator pads wrapper crumpled in the corner. I was angry with them for leaving a mess.
I went by the hospital and sat outside the morgue, even though I am an employee there, they still wouldn’t let me see you, so I decided to work for a couple of hours. I’m not sure what else to do with myself. Maybe tomorrow will be better. I still half expect my phone to ring with you on the other end lecturing me about your recent epiphany about life.
I Love You, Your Brokenhearted Daughter
November 11
Dad,
It seems appropriate that Veteran’s day would be the day I bury you, considering your history of service to your country that only a select few know about. I am proud that you honored me with that knowledge. People don’t appreciate the ones who serve our country in the shadows. I think you knew your time was coming. Maybe that’s why you called me in tears a week before your died apologizing for all the things in my life you had miss. I hope you died knowing I forgave you. I forgave you before you ever asked for forgiveness. I never held it against you for being MIA most of my childhood. You were always my daddy. Maybe I could have stopped this if I would have stayed the night. I could have monitored your medication better. I could have monitored you better. Maybe you wouldn’t have taken so much and maybe you would have woken up. Maybe you would still be alive. If only I hadn’t been so selfish.
Your Daughter
P.S. The pastor gave me the letter you gave to him before you passed. I am not sure I want to read it. I have been looking at it for two hours now....

https://preview.redd.it/8vucytnswoxc1.jpg?width=2048&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b1e05b0eb61a8fdd1f583d718a32a69727aa9958
A few have asked me about fiction, history and there seems to be confusion on whether it happened or not.
Technically it did not happen at all. It’s a made up story.
But if you are the one wandering in it then it is real to you even though you are safe and sound on your bed asleep in your head. It’s imaginary - a dream and while it may be pleasant it's still not Reality. It is reality.
To most it is very real and to most it has been said that every single drop of tears you may have will be squeezed out of you. Then and only then will you be ready to receive the mantle. Kingship. Why? God is impersonal loving but impersonal. Now you can be the Son of Man and accept this is all imagination and sincerely believe as Neville did that the human imagination is God himself thereby entering into the kingdom that way. OR that God is ALL - Son of God.
You decide. What God wants is for all to understand it is about overcoming life obstacles in the dream so you can overcome being a Man. That is the big build up.
To be both and balanced is to put the mask on when needed but off most of the time instead of the other way around as it has been and recognizing those times when you are alone talking to yourself that THAT is when you are in REALITY. The spirit world. Whether you are creative or not or whatever everyone breathes, everyone feels, and everyone loves.
We all do mundane tasks that keeps us silent and as we get to sweeping or whatever we imagine away making it a bit better to pass the time of a boring chore. Those times of a silent still mind is when he comes to talk to you. He won't interrupt if you are busy. He is polite.
IF you choose to be like God and not a Man then you literally murder yourself in your imagination and be sincere and mean it and for that to happen it means things are good but not good enough OR you have had enough pain and suffering thank you very much. You decide it is time to stop being a kid and just fuck this place. Let's clean up the mess and go home.
To imagination it is the same as if you had actually murdered yourself and then you are free of it and back where you belong. Son of God.
I put Rita on and I take her off. She is nothing. Something that came out of imagination. I put her on to be with my people - my thoughts/beliefs no matter who made them for only one really did- God. Rita is a messenger and a giver of life. She presents the present in the present moment and it is none other than herself.
We are inside God’s mind - his imagination to be exact - aka a bubble of love. Therefore one cannot sin and cannot die, and cannot make mistakes or have any kind of ugly on us - other than we think so.
All this caca never happened.
That’s the good news. The bad news is we do not know that - yet.
As one discovers the truth that is in the Bible then one discovers it’s all a dream and so the relief and joy is it never happened. Not any of it.
THAT is the relief. THAT is the joy!
Hallelujah!! Jump for Joy! It never happened!! But enough of us must come together in that knowledge to use it for ourselves and others before we wake up. Men can use the internet. God is connected to all so doesn’t matter if you are inside or outside the dream.
The reason we find all these artifacts and history is two-fold. The majority of people think like God and Man. They are the Son of Man and Son of God and are the ones that rise up knowing this is all God - God Almighty himself.
1. Yes they are imagined and never happened therefore easily forgiven, revised and removed.
2. To wake up the man who can read his dream that he wrote down and see what it was telling him as a man and being innocent of who he is decides of his own free will what is right and what is wrong.
3. It provides that relief to humanity that allows them to throw off the chains that has enslaved them.
4. Hindsight is 2020 to a man aka perfect and we all know real life is stranger than the fiction we write.
Isn’t it wonderful?
NONE of this has happened. Now if you laugh and scoff at that that’s ok. The end is the same for all. Whether you claim your victory to sit at the table with the Almighty or to sing his praises there doesn’t matter. If you think like a man or God doesn’t matter. You believe in the Christ which is God showing man this is a dream and you came from me so you can walk out of here any time you wish. If all you do is believe in me then you are gonna come home with me. He made it as easy as he could for the man.
God had to manifest as Jesus Christ the Man so he could show those trapped in the dream that it is just that. In other words - Jesus Christ was Boss Under Cover. He saw for himself what was going on and knew he had to not only tell them but show them. Time for show and tell. So he did.
I have taken all sin away. There is no sin. Now act like it. Moses at the Red Sea. Pharaoh is following him and is in a tizzy, the sea to his back, no where to go, no where to turn - who you gonna call?
God Almighty - then it became Santa Claus and finally Ghostbusters. That’s who. I ain't afraid of no ghosts. LOL
Many have - most have not understood anything but love and believe in the Christ and they do the best they can as men to do that. The cry is from the Virgin Mary - Pistis Sophia - no man left behind! Those who think like men - and we all do or did at some time or other - need that history to piss them off, to make judgement, to make them declare I don’t think so. To make them passionate. Make them care. Not in my world. They are inspired and now being inspired they and God are One. They set up perfect groups and organizations to do it but thinking like a man it all falls down. The original organizations are not bad. It just is. The ones who run it infected it. We learn through history - think like this not that. Tossing us about until we wake up.
The USA came to admire the Vietnamese. Although bigger they could not be defeated. Once the people began to see what was being done in their name they stood up and said I don’t think so. When guns were fired on the college campus at Kent State the entire nation mourned and that strong determination came out. I said I don’t think so.
Eventually the US left and then they learned how the few overcame the many. We laughed and embraced each other and life moves on.
It is as old as dirt. LOOK AT IT. See what never was or can be and appreciate those who showed us how to be or not to be in this dream, this story for all that is about to go up in smoke. They were God in that costume. Salute them. They didn't know - salute them all!!
Man calls it climate change but this time the laugh is on Him and as one can see he knows it. The jig is up, the heat is on, lots of passion in the air.
Oh yes the climate has indeed changed, you have not proven to man beyond a shadow of a doubt you do not belong with the rest. Out you go. No harm done so no foul and now through their pain and suffering they learn how to think like the rest of us.
If one cannot be woken up gently then one is shook hard.
The left love to say they are woke and the right laughs.
God laughs at silly little children with love and says oh yeah? LOL Sure sweetie now if you are not presentable do not come out until you are.
We the Men are cleaning up his mind. We the Men are the janitors lol.
He told us so himself and he told us wake up - go have some fun - it’s almost time to come home.
History is necessary for those who sleep. It is nothing to those who wake - just a bad dream and oh what a relief it is!! LOL just like the return of Bobby in the TV series Dallas.
The trials and tribulations is the dream becoming a nightmare and the hope is you will indeed wake up to who you are so you are outside of it, helping, and witnessing.
The original sin that traps us. God turned away from himself and thought he was a man. It is the oh what webs we weave when we begin to deceive.
Many run around saying creation is over go be whatever you want to be and yes it is a dream and you can be and do whatever you want however creation is not over. That is God’s state of being. The Presence aka the Christ creates out of the Essence and destroys that form if it does not like it.
Men have now spread life across the universe - the dream and it lives in other times and other places where they too must come to this realization. To many to count.
The dream - the story in the dream - THAT is over. We are waking up and it is the history of the death of man named Jesus Christ that anchors us while that happens. That story moves us. We weep for him and in turn we are washing it all away.
The story of life is over not creation. The book is closing. God is the author of that and so we clean up our minds and empty them so he can enter into them and together we are THAT. God Almighty.
Many state God is experiencing himself. In one sense this is true but all this did not come to be because God decided to go experience himself. LOL that is just silly. Do you go on a vacation to experience yourself? No you go to enjoy a change of scenery and to rest and relax.
Just as we clean up our minds so it is God cleaning up his mind. The Christ told us. The work is done. That means no more dreaming - we are waking up. After this rest and relaxation we all get gussied up and go down the aisle. The honored ones.
Last one made - first one honored.
As we do wake up to this all being a dream one will understand then and sing for joy - covid, financial panics, corruption, WWI, WWII, slavery and genocide - all of that was nothing. Just a nightmare.
Thank God that’s over!!
The Sons of God leap and sing for joy! God is JOY!
Doesn’t matter if you think like a man just follow your heart.
It’s perfect and therefore so are you.
Blessings!

This book by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga, based on the teachings of Alfred Adler, is probably the best work I've seen on the concept of developing frame from the ground up (although we may not fully get there in this post, as this is more foundational). The entire work is a process of deconstructing our preexisting notions of processing the world and reconstructing it from the standpoint of operating out of your own internal point of origin. Audio book is on Spotify (may require premium) and reads as a dialogue between Victim Vomit Victor and a Professor.
LIFE IS SIMPLE: I remember Rollo commenting, "If marriage is hard work, you're doing something wrong." This book extends that concept to all of life, and he's right. Imagine a 225lb bench. To many people, that's a lot. To others, it's easy. The weight isn't changing. You are, as you get stronger. If you think life is complicated, that's your fault, not life's fault.
The premise of the book focuses on Freudian Etiology (i.e. most modern psychology) v Adlerian Teleology. To explain the difference, let's look at a guy who is in a dead bedroom because he is too scared to initiate with his wife (applying the book to my own personal pre-RP experience).

• Etiology is all about cause and effect. He has been rejected by his wife numerous times. The modern psychologist would say that he has been traumatized by all of that rejection and as a result is now incapable of initiating sex, leading to his dead bedroom. Sure, other things may play in, but let's keep this simple and on him.
  
• Teleology is all about assigning purpose to our experiences. The man has the goal of not having sex with his wife. Wait, what?!? That's right, as absurd as it sounds. Actually having consistent sex with her breaks his mental framework for understanding the existing marriage dynamic and introduces new risks. If she suddenly began accepting his initiation - or even worse: accepting and rejecting inconsistently in ways he can't predict - that's new and scary territory, whereas living in the dead bedroom is the much preferred devil you know over the devil you don't.
  

In this, Adler denies the existence of trauma, saying that all past events are experiences we use for our present purposes, no matter how severe or mundane. If trauma existed in a cause-effect dynamic like modern psychology purports, we would expect everyone to have comparable reactions to comparable events. But that's definitively not true. People provably respond differently to similarly traumatic situations based on their own present purposes and frameworks for understanding life. In the above context, one person may be traumatized by constant rejection (i.e. old me), whereas another may view constant rejection as a training ground to build confidence (ergo my post: Initiate Often, Confident Always). You choose how to assign a purpose to the past experience, rather than it defining you. In fact, "it defining you" can't happen at all without your willful consent.
My post-RP purpose for my past rejection was to build self-confidence. But my pre-RP purpose was to use it as an excuse to stop initiating. In neither situation did the event change. I changed. My purpose changed, and that's what made the difference. Trauma doesn't make our lives complex. We make our lives complex. As you change, you can choose to see the simplicity of life and marriage.
EMOTIONS: Just as the past is merely a tool to further present goals, so are emotions. Consider a mother who regularly shouts at her children.

• The etiologist would argue: "You have an anger problem. This is probably brought on by something in your past that caused you to be this way, or perhaps even a genetic predisposition. It is part of your personality. But I can teach you coping mechanisms to deal with your anger."
  
• The teleologist would argue: "You manufactured the emotion of anger to justify your purpose of shouting. You wanted to shout because you have seen that it causes people to submit, which is what you wanted your children to do. You could choose other methods of accomplishing that goal if you believed they were equally effective."
  

At this, some people believe they have no choice but to react. "I didn't meant to be angry. She just did this and it set me off." Yet consider the mother getting a phone call while she is shouting at her children. She answers politely, chats for a minute, then hangs up and immediately resumes shouting. Was she really incapable of controlling her anger? No. She only used the tool in the context where she believed it appropriate, and used the tool of politeness where she believed it appropriate. In neither case was she controlled by emotional impulses.
From there, often-times when we weaponize our emotions, we might achieve the goal of momentary submission followed by "the revenge stage," where people passively aggressively (or even overtly) get back at us for compelling their submission. Socially, this looks like civil rebellion to overthrow a government. Personally, it looks like the mother's children becoming defiant, slitting their wrists, or tanking their grades as ways actually in their control which undermine her desires over them and her own public image. They now get special attention and the mother bends over backwards to address these concerns, making her submissive to them. If you respond to provocation, even if you win you may lose through inciting revenge. Better not to let yourself get worked up in the first place.
In all this, "False Freudian Etiology" tells us that our personality is bestowed upon us by nature or nurture and that we cannot change it; we can only cope and evolve it. Teleology rejects the concept of "personality" altogether and instead uses the word LIFESTYLE. Lifestyle is a choice. Our choices can change, and therefore we can change.
Why don't we change? Because the devil you know is better than the devil you don't. Change is scary. Even if you are unhappy, it's safer to behave the ways that are familiar to you than to choose a new and untested lifestyle and how it will affect our future finances, relationships, etc. Consistency is safe. Secure. People don't change because they prefer some discomfort and unhappiness in life in order to achieve the goal of safety and security from maintaining our current lifestyle choices.
If you are not satisfied with your life, Adler argues it is because "you lack the courage to be happy" (incidentally the title of the sequel book, which I have not yet read). If you can overcome your fear of the unknown of new lifestyles, you can change and develop any lifestyle of your choosing. Notably: lifestyle is defined by how you experience life in the context you create for yourself, not the possessions you have (more on that later).
ALL PROBLEMS ARE INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS
This phrase is at the core of human experience. If no human existed, we would have no context for any mental health struggle (only physically induced ones). Even loneliness would not exist because you wouldn't know what relationships were to miss them. Yet the minute we interact with others, that is when room for problems manifests.
Everybody has an innate drive for superiority. This is caused by a healthy feeling of inferiority - when we know that we are operating at less than our best selves and choose to strive to be better. However, this becomes an inferiority complex when we make the alternative choice: to give up, believing that past failures will only recur. Similarly, a superiority complex evolves when one feels compelled to publicly boast of themselves or shame others, assuming that they will be recognized as superior, and if others see them this way perhaps they can believe it of themselves too.

• Example 1: "I don't like myself." The book references a girl who is embarrassed by her blushing problem. She likes a boy, but is afraid of blushing in front of him, so she never talks to him. She asks the psychologist to solve her blushing problem. He says, "I could, but I won't. Your blushing causes you to find peace in the midst of your dissatisfaction with your present life. If I cure it and nothing changes, you will have no other excuse for your dissatisfaction, lose your peace, and will ask me to give you your fear of blushing back, which I could not do." He suggests the solution is to learn to embrace the outcomes of our desired actions, good or bad, and move on rather than living in fear of them (future) or letting them define us (past) [i.e. another way to say "outcome independence"].
  
• Example 2: "Women don't like me." Many men think this. The view is not actually a product of past experience. Rather, we use our past experiences as a tool to justify maintaining this attitude to meet our present goal: not pursuing women. Why is that the goal? Because one fears rejection. If you focus on your shortcomings rather than strengths, you can develop a belief that women don't like you, which justifies your lifestyle choice of not talking to them, protecting you from anticipated rejection. The problem is that you're living in the future (anticipation) and the past (pain of prior rejection) rather than the present. In this sense, people find it advantageous to not like themselves or to believe women don't like them, despite the unhappiness it causes them.
  

From there, all interpersonal interactions come down to whether we view others as competitors or comrades. Mental health problems evolve when we view them primarily as competitors. When our lives don't measure up to what we see in others around us, we make self-protective choices to justify the fact that we're losing The Comparison Game to other people. If they are comrades, we can celebrate their victories instead of taking it personally as a sign of our own inferiority.
OBJECTIVES: Adler proposes two core objectives in life: (1) To be self-reliant, and (2) To live in harmony with society. If one can accomplish these objectives, we will find peace and happiness and be free from mental health ailments. They are supported by two psychological statements: (1) "I have the ability/am enough" and (2) "People are my comrades." If we believe these two things, we are capable of accomplishing these objectives, no matter the life circumstances we are born into or what we possess. What matters is not what we are given or now possess, but how we use them to accomplish these objectives. He further breaks these two down into 3 contexts called "Life Tasks," which we have no choice in life but to confront in relational contexts on some level:

• Tasks of Work - Anything sustainable requires other people. Even the job of writing a novel, which seems entirely independent, requires an editor, publisher, marketing team, book stores, etc. in order to make it viable. As such, we are forced into some social context, as it is unfeasible to accomplish without others. These relationships exist only in the context of employment and stop outside the workplace. Even here, the problems are interpersonal. If a man is upset because of his poor performance review, it is not the work that upset him but the condemnation from his superior causing a feeling of inferiority via comparison.
  
• Tasks of Friendship - These are relationships outside the home and workplace. The number doesn't matter as much as the distance and depth. These are people you choose to value simply because of their existence, independent of whatever else they may contribute to your life.
  
• Tasks of Love - spouse, family, bf/gf. These are relationships involving bonds of consequence, making them difficult to break, making us more inclined to control rather than sever them. When we attempt to restrict them (i.e. mate-guarding, jealousy), it is a mindset of control, demonstrating that we view them as competitors and not comrades, undermining our ability to experience love in the relationship, leading to conjuring problems in our lives to justify our choices to control them ("I'm not a violent person, I just get so upset because I love you so much and can't bear when I see you being less than the wonderful person I know you can be"). When they behave in ways that hurt us, we must not run away; we must face it, even if we intend to cut it off regardless the outcome, otherwise we solidify a comparison (and resulting sense of inferiority or superiority) in our lives, for which we then make even more poor decisions to cope with it (unless one understands how to unravel it all).
  

Think of someone you dislike. Why do you dislike them? The etiological answer is, "Because of these bad qualifies about them." Teleology says you have made a decision already that you did not want to be in a relationship with them (which is not a wrong decision, the book notes), but feel bad about that choice and therefore look for things to dislike in order to justify that choice. Developing a view of others as competitors gives us an escape plan for relationships we don't want to enter into or remain in, but simultaneously hinders our relationships and forces us to remain in The Comparison Game indefinitely.

• Example: Wife falls in love with a man. He does a lot of weird things, but she doesn't care/notice and things are great. Months later she's not as happy as she once was. She now wants to leave the relationship. Suddenly the things she did not care about before are reasons why she wants to leave the relationship. He did not change. She did. And these things are her excuses.

LIFE LIE: This is when we lie to ourselves and others about our own motives in order to justify our decisions. The student in the book protests, "You don't know me or my circumstances to call me a liar and blame me for my own life circumstances!" The philosopher answers: "You're right. I don't know x, y, and z about you. I only know one thing: That you are responsible for your own lifestyle."
This covers about the first 1/3 of the book material. The next 1/3 will delve heavily into the context of why a willingness to be disliked by others is essential to be free/happy in life, as the desire to be liked comes with social comparisons/expectations that are like chains which control our decisions away from what we would otherwise independently desire/process for ourselves.

November 6th
Dad,
You probably won’t get this letter until after you recover from your medication high, but thank you for being understanding and not angry with me for going home tonight. I’ve spent the last 2 days taking care of you before your surgery and since your surgery and I just needed a little break. For such a strong man you sure are being a baby about a routine vasectomy. I know you have had worse pain in your life. It’s entertaining to see you all doped up on pain medication. You are funny, but really you need to stop overworking yourself. Lifting too much can cause healing complications. Just rest and hold Lydia. I have a good picture of you guys sleeping. You are holding her like she just might disappear. I wonder if you held me the same way when I was little.
I left a summary of your medication schedule on the fridge. No self-medicating please, I know you think you have every disease in the world but you don’t. Stop being a hypochondriac. I’ll be back tomorrow to check up on you. I don’t know if I told you but I have a date tonight! I know you think it’s too soon for me to be dating after the breakup. I’ll be careful. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. It’s weird but for the first time I’m nervous about going on a date. I’m shaky and have this weird feeling in my stomach. I’m sure it will go great! You will hear about it either way. I have to run. It’s a long drive into town. I love you dad. Put the Superman cape in the closet and let me take care of you for a change.
You Loving Oldest Daughter
November 7th
My Dearest Daddy,
I found the unopened letter still taped to your laptop screen where I left it. You must have slept the whole afternoon. I laid in your spot in the bed for hours today. I needed to be away from people. I hate them normally, and I really hate them today. I didn’t make it here from town fast enough this morning to see you before the paramedics took you away. I did make it here in time to see he mess they left on the bedroom floor. The MRX defibrillator pads wrapper crumpled in the corner. I was angry with them for leaving a mess.
I went by the hospital and sat outside the morgue, even though I am an employee there, they still wouldn’t let me see you, so I decided to work for a couple of hours. I’m not sure what else to do with myself. Maybe tomorrow will be better. I still half expect my phone to ring with you on the other end lecturing me about your recent epiphany about life.
I Love You, Your Brokenhearted Daughter
November 11
Dad,
It seems appropriate that Veteran’s day would be the day I bury you, considering your history of service to your country that only a select few know about. I am proud that you honored me with that knowledge. People don’t appreciate the ones who serve our country in the shadows. I think you knew your time was coming. Maybe that’s why you called me in tears a week before your died apologizing for all the things in my life you had miss. I hope you died knowing I forgave you. I forgave you before you ever asked for forgiveness. I never held it against you for being MIA most of my childhood. You were always my daddy. Maybe I could have stopped this if I would have stayed the night. I could have monitored your medication better. I could have monitored you better. Maybe you wouldn’t have taken so much and maybe you would have woken up. Maybe you would still be alive. If only I hadn’t been so selfish.
Your Daughter
P.S. The pastor gave me the letter you gave to him before you passed. I am not sure I want to read it. I have been looking at it for two hours now....

This book by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga, based on the teachings of Alfred Adler, is probably the best work I've seen on the concept of developing frame from the ground up (although we may not fully get there in this post, as this is more foundational). The entire work is a process of deconstructing our preexisting notions of processing the world and reconstructing it from the standpoint of operating out of your own internal point of origin. Audio book is on Spotify (may require premium) and reads as a dialogue between Victim Vomit Victor and a Professor.
LIFE IS SIMPLE: I remember Rollo commenting, "If marriage is hard work, you're doing something wrong." This book extends that concept to all of life, and he's right. Imagine a 225lb bench. To many people, that's a lot. To others, it's easy. The weight isn't changing. You are, as you get stronger. If you think life is complicated, that's your fault, not life's fault.
The premise of the book focuses on Freudian Etiology (i.e. most modern psychology) v Adlerian Teleology. To explain the difference, let's look at a guy who is in a dead bedroom because he is too scared to initiate with his wife (applying the book to my own personal pre-RP experience).

• Etiology is all about cause and effect. He has been rejected by his wife numerous times. The modern psychologist would say that he has been traumatized by all of that rejection and as a result is now incapable of initiating sex, leading to his dead bedroom. Sure, other things may play in, but let's keep this simple and on him.
  
• Teleology is all about assigning purpose to our experiences. The man has the goal of not having sex with his wife. Wait, what?!? That's right, as absurd as it sounds. Actually having consistent sex with her breaks his mental framework for understanding the existing marriage dynamic and introduces new risks. If she suddenly began accepting his initiation - or even worse: accepting and rejecting inconsistently in ways he can't predict - that's new and scary territory, whereas living in the dead bedroom is the much preferred devil you know over the devil you don't.
  

In this, Adler denies the existence of trauma, saying that all past events are experiences we use for our present purposes, no matter how severe or mundane. If trauma existed in a cause-effect dynamic like modern psychology purports, we would expect everyone to have comparable reactions to comparable events. But that's definitively not true. People provably respond differently to similarly traumatic situations based on their own present purposes and frameworks for understanding life. In the above context, one person may be traumatized by constant rejection (i.e. old me), whereas another may view constant rejection as a training ground to build confidence (ergo my post: Initiate Often, Confident Always). You choose how to assign a purpose to the past experience, rather than it defining you. In fact, "it defining you" can't happen at all without your willful consent.
My post-RP purpose for my past rejection was to build self-confidence. But my pre-RP purpose was to use it as an excuse to stop initiating. In neither situation did the event change. I changed. My purpose changed, and that's what made the difference. Trauma doesn't make our lives complex. We make our lives complex. As you change, you can choose to see the simplicity of life and marriage.
EMOTIONS: Just as the past is merely a tool to further present goals, so are emotions. Consider a mother who regularly shouts at her children.

• The etiologist would argue: "You have an anger problem. This is probably brought on by something in your past that caused you to be this way, or perhaps even a genetic predisposition. It is part of your personality. But I can teach you coping mechanisms to deal with your anger."
  
• The teleologist would argue: "You manufactured the emotion of anger to justify your purpose of shouting. You wanted to shout because you have seen that it causes people to submit, which is what you wanted your children to do. You could choose other methods of accomplishing that goal if you believed they were equally effective."
  

At this, some people believe they have no choice but to react. "I didn't meant to be angry. She just did this and it set me off." Yet consider the mother getting a phone call while she is shouting at her children. She answers politely, chats for a minute, then hangs up and immediately resumes shouting. Was she really incapable of controlling her anger? No. She only used the tool in the context where she believed it appropriate, and used the tool of politeness where she believed it appropriate. In neither case was she controlled by emotional impulses.
From there, often-times when we weaponize our emotions, we might achieve the goal of momentary submission followed by "the revenge stage," where people passively aggressively (or even overtly) get back at us for compelling their submission. Socially, this looks like civil rebellion to overthrow a government. Personally, it looks like the mother's children becoming defiant, slitting their wrists, or tanking their grades as ways actually in their control which undermine her desires over them and her own public image. They now get special attention and the mother bends over backwards to address these concerns, making her submissive to them. If you respond to provocation, even if you win you may lose through inciting revenge. Better not to let yourself get worked up in the first place.
In all this, "False Freudian Etiology" tells us that our personality is bestowed upon us by nature or nurture and that we cannot change it; we can only cope and evolve it. Teleology rejects the concept of "personality" altogether and instead uses the word LIFESTYLE. Lifestyle is a choice. Our choices can change, and therefore we can change.
Why don't we change? Because the devil you know is better than the devil you don't. Change is scary. Even if you are unhappy, it's safer to behave the ways that are familiar to you than to choose a new and untested lifestyle and how it will affect our future finances, relationships, etc. Consistency is safe. Secure. People don't change because they prefer some discomfort and unhappiness in life in order to achieve the goal of safety and security from maintaining our current lifestyle choices.
If you are not satisfied with your life, Adler argues it is because "you lack the courage to be happy" (incidentally the title of the sequel book, which I have not yet read). If you can overcome your fear of the unknown of new lifestyles, you can change and develop any lifestyle of your choosing. Notably: lifestyle is defined by how you experience life in the context you create for yourself, not the possessions you have (more on that later).
ALL PROBLEMS ARE INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS
This phrase is at the core of human experience. If no human existed, we would have no context for any mental health struggle (only physically induced ones). Even loneliness would not exist because you wouldn't know what relationships were to miss them. Yet the minute we interact with others, that is when room for problems manifests.
Everybody has an innate drive for superiority. This is caused by a healthy feeling of inferiority - when we know that we are operating at less than our best selves and choose to strive to be better. However, this becomes an inferiority complex when we make the alternative choice: to give up, believing that past failures will only recur. Similarly, a superiority complex evolves when one feels compelled to publicly boast of themselves or shame others, assuming that they will be recognized as superior, and if others see them this way perhaps they can believe it of themselves too.

• Example 1: "I don't like myself." The book references a girl who is embarrassed by her blushing problem. She likes a boy, but is afraid of blushing in front of him, so she never talks to him. She asks the psychologist to solve her blushing problem. He says, "I could, but I won't. Your blushing causes you to find peace in the midst of your dissatisfaction with your present life. If I cure it and nothing changes, you will have no other excuse for your dissatisfaction, lose your peace, and will ask me to give you your fear of blushing back, which I could not do." He suggests the solution is to learn to embrace the outcomes of our desired actions, good or bad, and move on rather than living in fear of them (future) or letting them define us (past) [i.e. another way to say "outcome independence"].
  
• Example 2: "Women don't like me." Many men think this. The view is not actually a product of past experience. Rather, we use our past experiences as a tool to justify maintaining this attitude to meet our present goal: not pursuing women. Why is that the goal? Because one fears rejection. If you focus on your shortcomings rather than strengths, you can develop a belief that women don't like you, which justifies your lifestyle choice of not talking to them, protecting you from anticipated rejection. The problem is that you're living in the future (anticipation) and the past (pain of prior rejection) rather than the present. In this sense, people find it advantageous to not like themselves or to believe women don't like them, despite the unhappiness it causes them.
  

From there, all interpersonal interactions come down to whether we view others as competitors or comrades. Mental health problems evolve when we view them primarily as competitors. When our lives don't measure up to what we see in others around us, we make self-protective choices to justify the fact that we're losing The Comparison Game to other people. If they are comrades, we can celebrate their victories instead of taking it personally as a sign of our own inferiority.
OBJECTIVES: Adler proposes two core objectives in life: (1) To be self-reliant, and (2) To live in harmony with society. If one can accomplish these objectives, we will find peace and happiness and be free from mental health ailments. They are supported by two psychological statements: (1) "I have the ability/am enough" and (2) "People are my comrades." If we believe these two things, we are capable of accomplishing these objectives, no matter the life circumstances we are born into or what we possess. What matters is not what we are given or now possess, but how we use them to accomplish these objectives. He further breaks these two down into 3 contexts called "Life Tasks," which we have no choice in life but to confront in relational contexts on some level:

• Tasks of Work - Anything sustainable requires other people. Even the job of writing a novel, which seems entirely independent, requires an editor, publisher, marketing team, book stores, etc. in order to make it viable. As such, we are forced into some social context, as it is unfeasible to accomplish without others. These relationships exist only in the context of employment and stop outside the workplace. Even here, the problems are interpersonal. If a man is upset because of his poor performance review, it is not the work that upset him but the condemnation from his superior causing a feeling of inferiority via comparison.
  
• Tasks of Friendship - These are relationships outside the home and workplace. The number doesn't matter as much as the distance and depth. These are people you choose to value simply because of their existence, independent of whatever else they may contribute to your life.
  
• Tasks of Love - spouse, family, bf/gf. These are relationships involving bonds of consequence, making them difficult to break, making us more inclined to control rather than sever them. When we attempt to restrict them (i.e. mate-guarding, jealousy), it is a mindset of control, demonstrating that we view them as competitors and not comrades, undermining our ability to experience love in the relationship, leading to conjuring problems in our lives to justify our choices to control them ("I'm not a violent person, I just get so upset because I love you so much and can't bear when I see you being less than the wonderful person I know you can be"). When they behave in ways that hurt us, we must not run away; we must face it, even if we intend to cut it off regardless the outcome, otherwise we solidify a comparison (and resulting sense of inferiority or superiority) in our lives, for which we then make even more poor decisions to cope with it (unless one understands how to unravel it all).
  

Think of someone you dislike. Why do you dislike them? The etiological answer is, "Because of these bad qualifies about them." Teleology says you have made a decision already that you did not want to be in a relationship with them (which is not a wrong decision, the book notes), but feel bad about that choice and therefore look for things to dislike in order to justify that choice. Developing a view of others as competitors gives us an escape plan for relationships we don't want to enter into or remain in, but simultaneously hinders our relationships and forces us to remain in The Comparison Game indefinitely.

• Example: Wife falls in love with a man. He does a lot of weird things, but she doesn't care/notice and things are great. Months later she's not as happy as she once was. She now wants to leave the relationship. Suddenly the things she did not care about before are reasons why she wants to leave the relationship. He did not change. She did. And these things are her excuses.

LIFE LIE: This is when we lie to ourselves and others about our own motives in order to justify our decisions. The student in the book protests, "You don't know me or my circumstances to call me a liar and blame me for my own life circumstances!" The philosopher answers: "You're right. I don't know x, y, and z about you. I only know one thing: That you are responsible for your own lifestyle."
This covers about the first 1/3 of the book material. The next 1/3 will delve heavily into the context of why a willingness to be disliked by others is essential to be free/happy in life, as the desire to be liked comes with social comparisons/expectations that are like chains which control our decisions away from what we would otherwise independently desire/process for ourselves.