#.....my disability application got rejected

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[lesenbyan]

No matter how often you say you're not getting your hopes up, you always do, don't you

[faaun]

. anyway after writing the tags 4 this post i told my research partner i will no longer follow his dreams lmao. still helping w it but i need to engage in research that i find satisfying

[cesium-sheep]

dream about meeting someone at a bar who actually can do what I do, although they were talking like they were approaching it as a codified role and their scripts were still a little stiff/obvious.

she was excited about a different passion project when I woke up. I want to encourage her to do things she's passionate about but I do also want to be realistic about how well she actually knows the system she's looking to work.

[hearteyespierce]

tl;dr — unemployment woes, job hunting and existing as a disabled person sucks. i am open for art commissions and a post is coming soon, but feel free to dm me if you are interested! + status of my latest queer pulp novel cover redraw wip at the end as tax

being unemployed in 2024/2025 sucks, the job market is the worst for workers it’s ever been. i’ve applied to hundreds of jobs the last several months and i even do what all the recruiters on linked in say you need to do of “make a custom tailored resume and cover letter for every job you apply for 😇”/threat.

i make sure i use as many keywords from the job descriptions as possible and even run my resumes/cover letters through ATS scanners and always get around a ~90%+ match to the job description (what is considered a “great” score is apparently 80-85%), and still nothing! My applications are better than they’ve ever been but never has even getting an interview been so difficult.

i applied to a job that i have ten years of experience for in that exact role and they didn’t even want to talk to me — I got a form rejection email. That one was devastating.

and yeah, literally the worst part of all of this is that i’ve been forced to actually use linkedin as an actual social media app instead of just slapping my resume up there and ignoring it as god intended. every day i go online and see the worst takes of all time. i have found some genuinely good people and good opportunities (really hoping the one i’m pursuing right now, it would be so amazing and feel like a gift tbh to be offered this job) but the whole unemployment grind is so soul crushing.

i’ve barely had time to talk to any one who isn’t my partner who lives with me bc i’m using all my battery to try to find a job and try to build a website + portfolio for my art bc unemployment runs out next month so if something doesn’t work out i’m going to need to figure out something. i already lost my health insurance and can’t afford marketplace so i’m just rawdogging it rn as a disabled/chronically ill person, so that’s fun 🙃

but yeah, if you read this far, i am open for commissions — i have a post ready to go, I just need to wait a few days to post it publicly bc one of the examples on it is a surprise gift I did for someone and it’s in the mail to them right now. but if you’re interested, dm me or email killerxqueer@gmail.com and I’ll send you the graphics/info!

and, as promised: remember this pulp cover that was making the rounds LAST january?? yeah i sketched this back then and then. never finished it 😅 but i started painting it a day or two ago and i’m so thrilled with how it’s coming out!

[mjis0nfire]

I don't have plans to write my own crossover so I shall share this headcanon of mine to you. If you want to use it, feel free. If not, it's still okay. Anyway: I believe that Persona users cannot be possessed by a ghost. This is because their Personas are protecting consciousness. They can try but this would lead to the ghost being rejected and the Persona being furious for trying to steal their "self". It would be lucky if the ghost did not try this with a fully awakened user or, worst, a wild card.

Funnily enough, I've been thinking about this a lot!

Personas are literal spirits of willpower and, particularly in the case of the PTs, rebellion. So something else trying to supersede their will and control their body in such an invasive way? Yea, at best that ghost is getting thrown out like last weeks trash. At worst, they're getting that Persona's most powerful attack point-blank to the face. Which would almost definitely shred weaker ghosts.

And Ancients help you if you try that shit with a Wild Card like Ren - then you got that anywhere from 2 to 12 times worse! Talk about learning the hard way.

One small tweak that I'll be going with for my stuff; Persona users can be possessed, but not easily. And my thought process is it can happen one of three ways.

The first way is if the ghost's own will surpasses that of the Persona user's. Basically just try and push through and fight their way past the Persona to get in control. Not an easy thing to accomplish by any means - especially in the middle of a fight where the Persona is active. This method is also essentially impossible to pull on Wild Cards since the ghost would need to get past all of their Personas. And as stated before, they can have anywhere from 2 to 12 of those mfs. So unless the ghost is desperate or dumb or both, it's not a feasible option.

The second is to find a way to disable or null the Persona - like a spell or piece of technology. Which is hard to come by to say the least. Although, a good way to severely weaken a Persona is to shake the user's resolve - their reason to fight. Make them doubt themselves, their mission, their vows... and then take over from there. Only two ghosts come to mind who would be able to do such a thing (magically at least); Spectra and Desiree. Of course, given enough time and money, the technology to trap and/or disable a Persona could be made, but as of now nobody in Amity Park has something like that.

The final way is a lot more simple; get the Persona user's (and/or their Personas') consent. Obviously this is not happening in the middle of a fight - this is only really applicable if a Persona user and ghost are working together. For example, if there's a situation where a Persona user is unconscious and a friendly ghost wants to get them back to safety without getting shot down by a ghost hunter, they could attempt to posses their friend and negotiate with the Persona/s. With the understanding that, should the ghost step too far out of line, the Persona/s will retaliate accordingly.

Oh, and for added fun, Persona users would be aware of all attempts made to possess them - both successful and failed. So should, say, the local ghost hero try possessing his vigilante friend out of curiosity? Let's just say, it wouldn't go well for him.

[celosiaceo]

Last-minute Arcane theory

Dropping my inactivity streak to write out my last-minute Viktor theory before act 3 drops 🎀

ARCANE SEASON 2 ACT 2 SPOILERS UNDER CUT

I found Viktor’s new commune cult and the iridescent transformations on the people he “healed” to be very interesting, as well as the way that the Hexcore changed to be something more organic rather than mechanical-automatic.

With that I kind of got invested in poking at what exactly the hexcore became and what it was actually doing to people. And I think that it’s all a mushroom!!!

A big part of that conclusion to me is a polymer in mushrooms called chitin — in fungi, some mollusks, sea organisms, and insects use chitin as a structural polymer to build cell walls (in fungi) and exoskelletons (in mollusks, shellfish and insects)

When it’s pure, chitin is pliable, tough, resilient and in thin layers is translucent like in insect wings. In thin layers it can organize itself in stacks of photonic crystals which create iridescent colors when light hits them, which reminds me of a thing or two

(for sidenotes, the shiny marks that the people get seem to have a metallic sorta glimmer to them, which I think references titanium prosthetic implants that are very common in today’s medicine!! the shiny medal combined with iridescent chitin could in theory make something that looks similar visually, not sure if chitin can actually be combined with metal or not tho, and would coincide with the marks being placed on the ailed parts of people like prosthetics)

As chitin isn’t a “native” molecule to mammals or plants, both have immune receptors that can recognize chitin and initiate an immune response to destroy it if it’s detected within the organism

mammals have those receptors mainly in their lungs or intestines, but they can also be on the skin

Plants too have receptors that can set off the defense response against chitin but! Commensal mushrooms (that leech off a host for nutrition without harming or benefitting the host) have a way to shut this defense (it’s not understood how as of now), and some pathogen fungi can release proteins that block those receptors and mask chitin so the immune response isn’t activated — which could be why the “healed” peoples’ bodies don’t reject the transmutation despite not being injected with shimmer like Viktor had been

Because it’s a natural compound, chitin can also be made really biocompatible (compatible with the organism, not rejected by the immune system), and for that it has many applications in real life medicine being tested in the current time! Those include tissue regeneration, wound dressings or cancer treatments (also sounds pretty familiar, as the "healing" cured tumours caused by shimmer and various mobility disabilities and injuries)!

Another thing that further got me convinced in the hex-shroom theory is the prosperity of the commune — when it started, it looked like a barren wasteland with some metal scraps scattered around, but just after 6-7 months (that’s how long I heard the timeskip between act 1 and act 2 was) there’s flower fields and fully grown fruit trees? A mutated ”mushroom on steroids” could in fact be behind that in theory

Fungi are aaancient organisms, and they can form soil from inorganic matter by breaking it down for nutrition, they also very much enrich existent soil, and many mushroom species form symbiotic relationships with plants. and back to chitin, it can be used in agriculture to improve plants’ pathogen resistants, growth and defence against pests! So if the whole place is infused with the hex-shroom, it’s very possible that it’s also behind the agricultural boom, or “healing the land”, in the commune too! This thought train got me really concerned about Vi actually, and made me wonder if her suddenly considering joining the commune after eating several of the local fruits wasn’t a coincidence…

So how do people iridescent markings turn into the things Jayce sees in his flashbacks? I suspect the hex-shroom an be behind that too!

I suspect that the hex-shroom consumes the host over time and replaces their human tissue with itself. People in the commune end up with increasingly more hex-mushroom in their body from the “healing” that slowly becomes harder and takes their bodies over while their natural defenses are silenced, and because everything they eat has grown from the soil that the mushroom formed and with the help of the mushroom as a fertilizer and growth agent

Chitin also explains the transition of the markings to the wood-like material itself. When combined with some additional molecules or stacked in thicker fibrils chitin becomes way harder and stiffer and loses its translucense, becoming more of a dull color as it gains density. In it can form incredibly strong microfibrils that are harder and stronger than bone or steel!! In hindsight this explains why Viktor only ended up with a hole in his chest and not reduced to atoms by Jayce’s shot while the whole roof behind him was obliterated

Since the people don’t have mouths or eyes and appear to be hollow (missing brains or other organs), they look like mushroom stalks a lot to me, since those are often hollow too. By then they’re probably sustained entirely by hex energy from the core in a kinda invisible hyphae network and their senses work off of it too by group communication through the network (through the glowing fingerprint marks) or something.

The way the healing entirely removes the people’s sense of self-preservation very quickly also reminds me a lot of the cordiceps mushroom, which overtakes the host’s body and makes it put itself in open spaces where it’d be easily eaten by predators

Ok but why would the hexcore (and the hex matrix too) turn into a mushroom specifically?

I thought about that too, then I remembered that the hexcore started mutating after absorbing Viktor’s blood, and the matrix probably started mutating after Viktor coughed down the tunnel leading down to it all the way back in s1e5 (thats the only reason that’d make sense to me, since arcane had done insane foreshadowing like that before)…

With that in mind, it’s very possible that Viktor’s affliction is some sort of chronic fungal infection of the lungs — he’d be at a high risk of any given chronic infection, due to growing up in the fissures with health compromised by the Grey.

And so the hexcore and the matrix absorbed his blood and the pathogen fungus within it and mutated, adapting to the fungus’s functions and patterns, even down to looking like mycelium/hyphae while healing Viktor.

If before it acted like nuclear energy, serving whatever purpose it was given without its own motivation, now it has a motivation; to propagate and spread and infect, corrupting the minds of its host to not let itself die out, the way it manipulates Viktor’s, the primary host’s mind to believe that “healing” others of both ailment and identity aligns with his altruistic motives of actually saving lives and the way it removes any self-preservation of its secondary hosts

Anyways I’m shaking and crying over the prospects of act 3 god save us all idk how I'm gonna fall asleep today... preparing my tear glads

[ethaninthewilde]

wanted to share something good!!!

In early 2022 I moved to Sydney from Perth at 16 to get away from an abusive family and have a fresh start. Less than 2 months later I lost my job because I started having seizures, and it got to the point where I was having ambulances called almost every time I left the house. I had to stop studying, I was deemed medically unfit to work, and I became homeless as a result. I was rejected from almost every youth crisis organisation in the city because my seizures made me an "insurance liability" or they just didn't know how to or didn't want to deal with it; I lived in the one youth refuge that did accept for me 3 weeks before they told me I had to leave because I was becoming more and more wheelchair-reliant and they didn't "have capacity to accomodate that" (despite initially telling me that my disabilities were not an issue and I could stay for at least 3 months), and I became homeless again. My NDIS was rejected. I finally got a room in a sharehouse with 8 other people in October last year, but my room was up 2 flights of stairs and I was having to physically drag myself up and down everytime I needed the kitchen, the bathroom, anything. I was watched almost every time and it was humiliating and horrible and I hated it but at least I had somewhere to sleep.

Yesterday I picked up the keys to my own semi-accessible apartment. In just over 2 weeks I will be 3 years clean of self harm. My seizures appear to be decreasing and I've reenrolled in uni (half-time). Next week I have my final assessment for my DSP (australian verson of SSDI) application and then that should come through soon.

I am so proud of myself. I don't want to jinx it, but I feel like I've finally gotten through it. I can breathe now. I did this myself, and no one can take that from me. Reconciling where I am right now with younger me who genuinely didn't think I'd make it past age 14 has me in tears.

[unnervinglyferal]

My application for disability got rejected. They want further documentation about my medical issues, because I haven't been seen by a social services' doctor for a while and they have to make sure that I haven't miraculously cured from being brain damaged and partially blind over the course of the past year.

Fuck I gotta make a doctor's appointment.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Last summer I applied for a job as a library specialist in a small town outside Gainesville. As part of the application I had to go to the librsry in-person and take what was essentially a high school English test, "match these titles to their authors," "what was the main theme of XYZ," etc., really dry and pointless, but the final few questions were relevant to the library position and I absolutely aced them. "What should you do if someone comes in with a dog?" "How would you help a parent find a book for their child if they don't remember the title?" "How would you respond to teenagers playing loud music?" I answered professionally and thoughtfully, and they asked me to come back for an interview. I was told to prepare a children's book storytime presentation with props, so I made a backdrop and little popsicle stick puppets for Tacky the Penguin, my favorite picture book from elementary school.

I had a lot of fun crafting everything and practicing my read-through with funny voices.

I colored in the final map, I just forgot to take a picture of it

Goodly, Lovely, Angel, Neatly, Perfect, and Tacky

"We're going on a penguin hunt, we'll mark em with a switch, then we'll sell em for a dollar and get rich, rich, rich!"

I absolutely bombed the interview. I was a nervous wreck, I kept stumbling over my words, I drew multiple complete blanks during their questions, and a lot of my answers trailed off into "well, yeah, you know what I mean..." Dumpster fire. 57 dead, 193 injured. I spent the next month dreading every single email I got because I was waiting to read the inevitable "unfortunately."

It was so much worse than that.

After enough time had passed I assumed they were simply going to ghost me, so I forgot about it and moved on, and then out of the blue they emailed me back with a form letter that began "dear sir or ma'am," which hurt a lot because I personally spoke to the hiring lady three times and all her other emails (including the form ones) had the courtesy to start with my name in all caps. They took the time to fill in the blank before, but not this time. Didn't even say "unfortunately," they were really blunt, "you were not chosen to move forward with the hiring process." Damn.

Well, I just moved back up to Gainesville and I saw that they county is still hiring for that same position at a different library that's closer to my apartment. I sent out a Hail Mary application thinking they'd reject me sight unseen, but they must have liked my cover letter because they want me to come back and take the test again. I don't remember every single question, but if it's anything like last year's I'll want to brush up on my English literature. I have to go in on Tuesday morning, so I have all weekend to study.

If I pass, they'll interview me again, and this time I hope they don't make me do another puppet show. My dad keeps making fun of me for it, like I just decided to bring puppets into it for no reason when they very specifically asked me to. It was one of the requirements. The word "puppets" was on the rubrick, but my dad acts like I'm mentally disabled, "dese are mah fwiends, dey gib me mowal suppowt, pwease n fank you!" Does he think I just choose to make puppets and bring them to job interviews for shits and giggles? Does he think I'm divorced from reality? Or is he just a heartless asshole who likes being cruel?

My old job paid me $15/hour for 31½ hours per week, $472.50 before taxes, around $420 take-home (88-89%). This library job offers $16.10 for a full 40 hours, $644.00 before taxes, around $570 net if they take out the same percentage. If I round down to 85% instead, I'd take home just shy of $550 per week, which is 131% of what I used to make. My rent is $600 per month, and my I qualify for $0 monthly payments on my student loans under the SAVE Plan, so I'd be flush with cash for once in my life and I'd have a job that doesn't make me want to kill myself!

This would be absolutely perfect! I really hope it works out this time. I know the gist of what they're going to ask me, so I'll be better prepared when it comes time to interview. Wish me luck.

[demiaroacefrieren]

Finding a job shouldn't feel like pulling teeth. Last week, I had an interview for a full-time position at an eye doctor's office. They put out an application looking for people to help out at the reception area and call center. I had high hopes that I would get the job when the person I was interviewing with was impressed with how long I've been working at my current job and when I did volunteer work during my junior year of high school, as well as mentioning that she planned on hiring a few people for the job. Two days ago, I called back to follow up with the interview and see if I could schedule a day to come to begin shadowing. I got a call back from the same place and was told I didn't get the job despite getting a positive response to my resume.

This is the second place that I got an interview with and the second place I got rejected from after the interview. The first place I had an interview with was for a full-time call center position at a rehab place that's pretty close to my house. I didn't hear back from them a week after the interview, so I decided to reach out to follow up. A week after reaching out to the rehab place, I finally got a response back and was told that I didn't get the job.

I've been looking for a full-time job for so long. My current job is a part-time retail job, and right after the holidays, my hours got cut drastically. I went from working 20 or more hours a week to only being put on for two days and working half of the hours I had previously. And because of the drastic cut in hours, I'm literally struggling with money, too. Besides those two places I've gotten interviews for, I've been applying to so many places and have been ignored or rejected without even getting an interview. Right after getting rejected by the second place I interviewed with, I got an email from another place I applied for rejecting me without even getting an interview.

What sucks is that there are employers who put out applications on job recruiting sites like Indeed, Ziprecruiter, Glassdoor, and Monster and are either not actively hiring people or are extremely picky as to who they want to hire. I wouldn't be shocked if these employers are the same ones who lay off their employees by the masses. Another thing is if you don't get the job, the majority of employers will not tell right away if you didn't get the job. They will literally ghost you if you didn't get the job. The worst part about this is that employers are not obligated to tell you if you didn't get the job. The only time they will tell you if you didn't get the job is when you continuously reach out to them to the point where they finally cave in and reach out to you. And I wouldn't be surprised if these employers also expect their employees to give them two weeks notice if they decide to leave the company.

What makes my situation even harder is that I'm Autistic and a lot of employers don't like hiring disabled people. Employers view disabled people as a liability to the company, especially disabled people who need workplace accommodations. Despite being Autistic, I don't need any sort of accommodation at work, but there are other Autistic people who do need workplace accommodations. Some companies will have a section in the application where you can fill out your demographics (like race and ethnicity, veteran status, and gender identity), and a lot of them will ask if you have a disability. I do respond with the section by disclosing my status as a disabled person. The problem is that if some employers see that you're disabled and you mention that you have a disability, chances are you are most likely to get rejected automatically. The sad part is that employers can get away by simply stating that you weren't fit for the job. Also, if you're a disabled person and you end up getting hired, and you state that you need accommodations, employers will end up taking away your accommodations after a while if they believe that you don't need them anymore after a certain point.

With Trump being in office, finding a job as a disabled person will end up becoming much more difficult as Trump plans on doing away with policies that protect disabled people and other marginalized people from facing discrimination in the workplace. This means that anyone who isn't white, male (especially if you're a woman applying for a job in a male dominated industry), cishet, American born, abled bodied, and neurotypical will be easily rejected by jobs and face some sort of discrimination at work. I would like to point out that Trump is extremely unpredictable and has a habit of making rash decisions on the spot, and if he could, there might be a possibility that he would want to do away with the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (which was signed into law by a Republican president) and the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

As of right now, Trump has no plans on doing away with the ADA and the Civil Rights Act. But due to him bragging about being the cause of Roe v Wade being overturned and his simps lobbying for him to overturn the law that allows same-sex marriage in all 50 states, and him wanted to get rid of the Department of Education (which will hurt a lot of disabled students from elementary school to disabled college students), the possibility of him wanting to get rid of the Americans with Disabilities Act and the Civil Rights Act is there.

The only thing I can say about this is that I hope he doesn't go as far as to overturn the ADA and Civil Rights Act. And if he does, myself and the other disabled people living in America and every other marginalized American will be fucked for the next four years.

[l-na]

another poor guide for you

other things to fudge in general for resources: if you need to move out of your abusive household, or need to leave a place youre financially dependent on, or are about to be evicted, or some other very precarious situation that requires you live somewhere cheap....

find a peer resource center near you. you might need insurance for this, but you can ask them for resources on how to get on medicaid. look into transitional age youth if youre under 24.

ask for homelessness verification. youre going to need to HARDCORE bullshit about being homeless. make it realistic, say youre out on the streets three times a week. usually they have an application that will automatically be sent to some sort of service that will then get back to you with resources.

DO NOT CLAIM TO BE IN COLLEGE IN ANY WAY. LIE. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH.

frame it like you cannot survive in shelters. you want to implore you need independent living. if you have a disability, exaggerate it.

hide income. you do not have a job. you do not have money.

ask for resources for finding low income/no income apartments. if the apartments require a certain amount of income, oh look, you just got a job, isnt that great!

????

success?

its highly dependent on where you live and whats available, but you might be able to squeeze into a studio, one, two, or three bedroom apartment thats low income. and believe it or not, low income apartments are usually in well connected metro areas and look decent. i live in one right now.

oh yeah step zero is do not feel a single ounce of guilt for using these resources.

they will only help you at your lowest if you are in the most desperate situation a human could possibly be in. they still find ways to reject people who are in much worse situations than you, because these systems are built on hate. if this is life or death, lie. lie all day long. as a peer specialist ive advised my clients to lie before, and ive even been given advice on how to lie by my peer specialists back before my training. everyone knows the systems rigged. be confident. i live with three other people who are all low income and poor and we were in danger of being homeless and we STILL had to lie about things to get our apartment. fuck the system. do what must be done.

[sodacansculptures]

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

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

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

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

The extended director's cut answer:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All of my love,

Stan 

(They/Them)

PayPal:

@Stanwagner09

Venmo:

@asclw7643

Zelle:

Stan.wagner09@gmail.com

[vanillashusband]

not good news :') /srs

just got a letter telling me my application for disability was rejected for the FOURTH FUCKING TIME. I've had two fucking doctors give them evidence and tell them POINT BLANK I need to put on disability but they still fucking rejected me cause i',m not handicapped enough and my impairment isn't "permanent." (yes it fucking is)

i am beyond devastated. i literally can't survive without that money i can't keep doign this.

[polyhexian]

Extremely fun development recently is that my disability application was rejected because I have not worked long enough to qualify. I've only got a little more than a year of taxable US income I can report and I need two or I can't apply for the "I can't work because I'm disabled" money

But disability has always been for people who worked and THEN became disabled. If you were BORN disabled you are, frankly, fucked. Took us nine years to see a cent of government assistance for my brother, legally deaf and blind, part-time wheelchair user, nonverbal, developmentally disabled brother. Do you have any idea how expensive it is caring for a disabled child. Government says get fucked lol die

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

"nObOdY wAnTs To WoRk AnYmOrE!!!!" well, here's some snippets of the apparent numbers of applicants on seek, for jobs that i've applied to in the last few months, up to just this week:

to be an HR advisor officer in a call centre in sydney (i received the rejection email for this yesterday (23/8/24) morning like considering i applied 2 weeks late, yeah that's fair lol):

to be an HR coordinator, (employee experience) for another company in sydney:

to be a hub concierge at my local area's homelessness specialist services hub (i only applied for this to get ONE of my qualifications to ACTUALLY be useful- ie my certificate IV in housing):

a customer support and sales position at a local branch of a multinational logistics company:

a client administrator/coordinator role at a local aged care provider:

an HR admin position at some type of tech or finance firm where i am:

an admin support position for a local job provider program or something:

being a housing officer/community housing worker, again in sydney (and to use my cert IV in housing):

a scheduling and rostering position at a local aged care service:

being a support coordinator trainee at a local NDIS (aussie national disability insurance scheme) provider:

being a receptionist + administration assistant at a local real estate agent:

most of these i just got a "unlikely to progress" through seek, or outright ghosted. some of them did give me the auto reject email or an email from a person for rejection. but with these numbers..... how the fuck do you think people are ACTUALLY GETTING jobs????

and mind you, this is ONLY seek (which is a big job board in australia and NZ). I have NO idea the amount of applications these places ALSO HAVE across other platforms such as indeed, jora, adzuna, ethicaljobs (for the NGO/charity etc sectors for the jobs in housing or disability support jobs etc), the dreaded linkedin AND all the other job sites.... and actual employer sites that I've applied on directly. (except for the dept of communities and justice (dcj) housing officer job that I had an info session for just on wednesday this last week.... where there were 120 other applicants in there with me, but STATEWIDE [bc it's the new south wales gov housing dept homes nsw]). but yeah. fuck off with the "nobody wants to work anymore" bs.