#but i don't have access to a therapist so i have to do it the hard way

[thetepes]

Let's get one thing clear, you have no idea what my opinions on addiction in general are.

I am talking specifically about someone who is an admitted child abuser who seeks out child and animal abuse content for pornographic use and has been escalating in just how open they are about it and the material they are looking for.

My tough love approach is reserved for this abuser and abusers of children and animals like them. This isn't about theory.

I live with addiction inside and out. I've lost people to addiction. I've dealt with it, my family has dealt with it, my friends have dealt with it, and I have shown nothing, but patience and support to them because in my community there is no support from any governmental body that we have access to because Roma don't get that privilege. You don't get to take that from me because you decided to make assumptions about me and my person. You don't get to take my years of not just dealing with it, but the years I spent studying the psychology of it to better help me, my family, and my community. The words I used are the same words my therapist used for me when I was getting addiction treatment and treatment for dealing with family who have addiction. It's outdated, yes, but sometimes you really do have to put yourself first and realize you can't be the person to save them.

You could have taken the time to look at what I was actually talking about and why I'm so severe about it, but you didn't. It was one click away and everything about them is tagged. You didn't look because it doesn't matter to you. You cared about getting to be right and getting to be that person in the reblogs that educates some woefully uninformed person on Tumblr dot com.

I am not a native English speaker, I used the word that I knew people would understand. That is the best I can do. The people I need to reach out to and get to understand that this person can not and will not stop this behavior and will not click automatically to the words compulsive sexual behavior disorder and I would have to sit here and explain what that is and then I'd get accused of diagnosing someone and the entire point of my commentary would be completely lost, like it is to you even though I know about the addiction model and I know about CSBD and I know they're still arguing over whether or not addiction plays into it. It's also wrong to diagnose someone like that, isn't it? Isn't that also harmful? Or does that not matter here?

Sometimes to communicate effectively with one another we don't use the specifically correct word, especially when nonnative speakers are in play, we use the best words even if they're a tad general that we have and now you've come in, policed the language, spoken down to us, spoken over us and admitted you're trying to drive a wedge between us - two POC trying to get eyes on an active predator who has already harmed children with a platform and connections. I used the words I knew, I gave the advice I have been taught. I'm sorry that isn't good enough for you.

Your response is bad faith because you came in and made assumptions about me and my person without so much as considering there was a reason I was being so severe and now I have to sit here and watch you parade like a peacock and get reblogs with the most inane mind numbing takes in the tags while my actual message and the damage this person is doing goes completely ignored and I am once again spoken over because I didn't choose just the right words to soothe your semantic ego enough to let me speak.

So you got to be right, I guess. Congratulations. This isn't a debate.

Addiction is a disease that destroys the body and mind. They need mental health support from a professional. It is not my or your place to treat them with gentle hands when they demand we enable them.

The only thing you can do for people suffering from addiction realistically as a layman is take care of yourself and encourage the person to get help.

Enabling them makes it worse and that's what these people want. They don't want help, they want enablers.

[selvepnea]

Thinking about. That one post about art. And how it's never good enough. Since you're the one that made it. And how. It might relate to how I view myself?

[silverduckie]

I don't suppose someone with access to a vpn would mind grabbing Blackout series 2 for me 🥺

[cesium-sheep]

part of the Bad Feeling Soup, which I'm sure I've mentioned at some point, is like. the timing of when I first got really sick. obviously it can be very emotionally complicated to become disabled at any age, for any reason, although boy I wish old people would stop tying to work their feelings out through me, but. I became disabled almost immediately after successfully completing college. early, even. I graduated 9 months early, I went into military training where I could barely contact anyone, and suddenly I came back disabled. this reads to others like I've never had experience of the Real World, which is dumb, I do still in fact live in the real world and frankly have done significantly longer than my age would indicate, as is true for most abused children. but I've joked about it before, I basically went from college to old age in the space of a couple months. taken out at the knees before I could even get started. and it's fucked up and strange and it's further compounded by barely getting to be a kid either so like honestly it would be fitting to die at like 35 or whatever, I'm apparently just speed running the life stages. cut em all right in half. except even then the numbers are completely wrong for the portion where people supposedly take you seriously.

it's really hard to articulate the weird and uncommon position the timing of my disability puts me in. I'm sure it's happened to others, but I don't know them. I have friends who got too sick to finish college, I have friends who were already pushing through severe illness to get through college, I have friends who needed multiple attempts to get where they needed to be (though that seems more common with mental illness?), but no one in this specific position.

and of course it bears repeating that it is super dumb to treat me differently just cuz I got disabled before I could join the Full Time Work Force - anything that could be said to disparage my experience as insufficient or unrealistic can be said about people who are underemployed, gig workers, self employed, professional students, field scientists, etc etc etc basically it's dumb as hell and retail/food service and office work aren't the only two Real Jobs on the planet. "oh you've never had to put up with the same shitty office mate for years" "oh you've never had terrible customers yell in your face 6 times in the same day" neither did my grandpa while he was farming for 70+ years I know you ain't gonna tell me that man didn't have a Real Job pisses me off honestly.

idfk I feel like there's something I want to articulate about the timing of my disability but I don't fully know what it is. it sucks. it all sucks.

[chase-solidago]

So you found a dead body in the woods

The worst thing you've worried about, going on hikes, happens. This happens often, in the grand scheme of things. It's always joggers and dogwalkers and hikers. My unlucky day came on October 24, 2022.

So what do you do when you find a dead body?

Look in the other direction and take a breath. Panic wont help you or them.

If you are comfortable, approach them and try to help. If not, it's okay. I was unwilling to approach (they looked real dead) and my 911 operator was 100% totally supportive and okay with that.

Walk a little ways away. There is no reason why you need to keep staring at them. It's okay. Seeing a dead person is really wack!

When you've caught your breath, call 911. My first thought was "Oh god, I don't want to talk to cops." and, good news, it's not cops! 911 responders are different people. They are trained to talk to you, to reassure you, and to help you. They are there for you. They understand you are freaking out. They are kind and patient.

Your new buddy, the 911 person, will help you figure out where you are, exactly. They have access to your location via cell-tower and GPS, but if, like me, you were off-trail (oops), they might need your help navigating to you. I offered to also send a photo, and he provided an email, which he received immediately. I deleted the photo I took right away.

Hang out on the phone with your dispatch friend. They're going to want to keep in touch with you as the paramedics approach. Are you freaking out by chattering too much? Are you freaking out by being dead silent? Both are okay! Apparently, my panic response is to become Super Midwestern Chatty. I was able to make him laugh, which I count as a win.

Holler to the paramedics. My paramedics came deep into the ravine-filled woods, about six men, steering a rolling bed thing. We shouted at each other until they made it to the body. It would have been funny, watching them fumble along, if it wasn't so serious.

Get out of there! The paramedics don't need anything from you. They're busy doing their job. They shooed me back to the trail and to the parking lot. I didn't have to go anywhere near the body.

Meet cops in the parking lot. In my situation, the cops didn't want anything from me. They were just picking their noses in the parking lot while the paramedics did the real work. The cops said thanks for helping, while covering their bodycams, because they're pigs.

Go eat donuts. Christ, that was a lot. Let yourself comedown and get some sugar to kickstart your system.

Feel good that you gave a family closure. Yeah, that sucked. Yeah, your therapist is going to hear about this. Yeah, next time you come to this location, you're going to need a friend with you. But you did the right thing. You'll never know their family, but know that you gave them closure.

[a-sleepy-ginger]

3/4/24

✿❈✿❈✿

Baby potato

Finished hime Sama goumon no jikan desu anime and it was really cute

Fruit

[neovillains]

deathbed ── a series.

FUCK THAT OLD MAN UNTIL HE'S ON HIS DEATHBED.

syn. you always had a thing for older men. your therapist says it's your underlying want for a proper father figure to love you. you say it's because they're hot.

── featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, and sukuna ryomen as gilfs. fem-bodied!reader, high age gaps, each chapter will have their separate warnings, etc.

note. writing this solely because i need to fuck these men as old men! dilf status isnt enough!

OLD MAN NEXT DOOR : GOJO SATORU

the old man next door always seemed so lonely. you thought you were doing him a favor when you offered to spend some time with him. and in some sorts . . . you were.

HE'S NO DEADBEAT : NANAMI KENTO

nanami believed he raised his son well, only for him to turn into a deadbeat right in front of his eyes. don't worry, he'll make it up to you.

NO INTEGRITY : TOJI FUSHIGURO

you never typically accepted male clients, but after being the only one left in the office, you let your fear consider your safety. and now... you're kind of grateful for it.

BILLIONS : SUKUNA RYOMEN

why worry about finances when you could have a man do it for you? when a girl friend of yours shows you the ropes of an app dedicated to finding a sugar daddy/mommy, you thought it'd be easy as pie. however, yours makes you work for it.

vip access ── thank you for your interest in the series. for better services & to receive notifications for chapters, please subscribe to the series !

film credits ── thank you @chrollogy for such a nice banner !

[machetelettuce]

Solitary Obsessions of Revenge. Thoughts / Psychology below

One thing observed in people (particularly prisoners) who are forced into Solitary Confinement is that they sometimes develop horrible, all-consuming obsessions with one specific feeling or thing. I learned this from my therapist, who explained that this can be... literally anything. From obsessing over the feeling of your bladder being empty to hyper focusing on the feeling of pain. These obsessions occur due to the brain attempting to create stimuli in any way it can. When you are deprived of anything 'new' your brain has to Make 'new' things for it to experience. All of this is to say I think the idea of Narinder having this same desperate focus on his anger and need for revenge would make sense.

Especially because being in solitary confinement essentially rots away at the parts of your brain that store memories. I'm not an expert, don't quote me, but I believe the reason is because those pathways just aren't being recalled. So they degrade over time, and you lose access to that skill. Recalling past events becomes really difficult, and-- imagining this with Narinder-- this could be a reason he sees his siblings in SUCH a negative light. Even sparing their betrayal, he may not remember many happy times with them at all. Only the painful parts. (Which is a neat and horrible parallel to Shamura. Ouch.)

On that note, I've heard people describe Narinder as 'cold and calculating' but I think this isn't true, personally. He's always read to me as a more 'do then think' kind of person-- Specifically in the situation he's in. Which makes sense, following my narrative. He's been trapped for hundreds of years to the point where all he cares about is the ending of his siblings lives. It's not cold revenge, it's desperate, clawing, NEED to see them gone. A mind fueled by a thousand years of solitary torture isn't a reasonable one. I think theres a lot of pain and hurt that needs to be reconciled within himself until he can feel like a person who doesn't desire revenge and bloodshed to keep going.

[oshinsimblr]

hey friends! i was unable to post all of my early access content bc i'm sick. but i was able to post this video, which in my honest opinion are the major features in this 'romance' pack.

IS IT WORTH $40?

DEPENDS ON HOW BADLY YOU NEED THESE FEATURES TBH.

this review is brought to you by the ea creator network. all of my opinions are my own. i must disclose this per FTC guidelines #ad.

*i do not cover everything in the pack, only the things that stood out for me lol. i'm sorry i'm not used to doing full reviews up here

the attraction system is helpful and expands dating (which is great, but we've had mods that could do this for some time: pick your poison). the romantic satisfaction is the star here. i love being able to create one sided relationships and actually take care of our romantic relationships with sims. this is a valuable feature for me!

cupid's corner is a nice "hey i don't need this mod" anymore type of feature. prior to this i was using lumpinou's meet & mingle which allowed me to meet with sims (platonic and romantic). i dislike that you can not write custom bio's for your sims. i love the way the app functions, i love saving sims and adding them to our rel. panel - and getting to know them through the phone first. i wish we could've defined our sims favorite music/foods/color etc.

i'll admit it, i'm a sucker for dynamics. family dynamics from the sims 4 growing together are so good (minus the fact that everyone wants to be f*cking jokesters after one joke lol). but i love them! they really do impact my sims relationships. the different romance dynamics are interesting. for example: a strained romance dynamic makes it VERY hard for your sims to communicate. it's like your sims will randomly hug each other, but then 5 secs later they're upset. they want to love each other so badly but they can't lol.

now onto random things that excited me. you can go to cupid's couples counseling. i did not know we'd actually be able to answer questions. these sims had a strained romance dynamic and it was so bad - the therapist suggested we come back. but when i tried to schedule it again, they were booked and i had to wait to schedule another appt. which is great, because in the meantime your sims are going downhill fast and you have to keep the peace until then (if you choose).

there are new pop ups and invites. there's even one for a reality dating show lol. you can turn these off in game settings. (if you're wondering, mr. landgrabb never showed up at the motel he wanted to meet at. he stood my sim up. don't judge me, i thought there was simoleons involved).

new crafted dates are cool. you can choose whatever you want to do on them. there's new social interactions based on the activities you choose. you can also invite other sims to these (double dates woohoo!) you can also create crafted hangouts. i like these, i got this cute picture as a reward after a succesful crafted hangout. if you're familiar with mws weddings, it's the same idea. except this works well and isn't as glitchy lol..

another random feature i never needed, but now i find it useful. you can create your own relationship label that will appear in the rel. panel

it's unfair how gorgeous this world is... because there's nothing to do. this is all set dressing.

you can declare your love here.. at the wall of love.

you can buy flowers or edible sweet treats at this shop in the background.

you can get local food here. there are 3 new dishes and spicy hot chocolate. now, i'm not mexican (the world is inspired by mexico) BUT 3 new foods isn't cutting it for me. technically only 2, because one is a vegan option. no pozole, enchiladas, guacamole, tamales?? i'm a foodie, so i take full offense to that.

you can woohoo or sleep at the motel.

you can travel.

go fishing or enjoy a swim.

sit here and chat.

view this for a moodlet.

travel again.

check in a penthouse.

there's a nightclub, gym and lounge. but you get the idea.. there's nothing culturally unique about this world which makes me sad. no festivals? i'd love seeing a mariachi band play at the lounge. something. otherwise, keep the world and add more features right? i would've loved table proposals (sims 2 anyone?). or frisky couch makeouts. so many missed opportunities here.

there's more i could say but i feel like this post should be a little helpful in deciding wether this is a pack you need right now, or wait for a sale! i personally love having a complete colection, so i've always wanted every expansion. though i recieve the pack for free, i owe you my honesty and i want to start doing blog/written content because it's easier to process my thoughts through the excitment. i will enjoy this pack, i do like it, and only time will tell as i integrate it with my current gameplay. i hope this was helpful!

* if you remember, use my code OSHINSIMS at checkout if you decide to purchase this pack. that way, at least i get a % of your purchase and EA doesn't get all your coins 😉

thank you! just keeping simming, always stay wavy, peace x

[naamahdarling]

Maybe it isn't that I actually hate medical professionals? They just suck and are weird sometimes, and a lot of them shouldn't be practicing, but I don't hate them as a group, like, personally.

What I hate is their ability to make my life harder in ways that are often completely opaque to me, and a lot of the crap things they do are not really possible to challenge. And I hate the fact that holding them responsible fort dogshit behavior in any way that will actually benefit me is almost always impossible.

And I also hate the fact that they have to do stupid things sometimes because that's how the system is set up, and those things sometimes mean patients actually get harmed. They aren't fond of that part either! They don't want the system to be the way it is! But they don't have a choice, so sometimes people like me get forced by bureaucracy into doing things that are re-traumatizing. And I can't imagine that feels good for them at all, knowing that their patients are sometimes only "consenting" because that bureaucracy will not let them be helped in any other way. Which isn't consent at all. I imagine that must be pretty traumatizing for them, too, sometimes.

If it were easier to actually access medical care without tremendous delays in this country right now I would have much less trouble finding providers who are good at what they do and are not horrible people, and who have clinic staff who can do their fucking job.

Oh and I also don't appreciate how evasive and unwilling to commit they are out of fear of being held to an answer that turns out to be inaccurate, but I can't make an informed decision about my own care unless they give me at least some information about probabilities and trajectories and typicalities. Genuinely, how the fuck am I supposed to navigate that shit. I get that some patients are really fucking difficult, but I should be able to get a special stamp on my file or something that says I understand that sometimes medicine isn't an exact science and the best answers that my doctors can give may not always prove to be accurate in the long term. I know they don't like being in that situation either.

A lot of medical professionals are fucking assholes, and unfortunately the ones who are not are still hamstrung by a system set up to actively prevent people from getting care.

I miss my old doctor. He gave no shits about anything that wasn't the patient. He prescribed scheduled meds based on what the patient needed and not based on fear of consequences potentially being imposed on him by the punitive patient-hostile drugs-are-bad moral panic machine developed to force suffering people into buying more dangerous drugs off the street in order to prevent far fewer people from maybe getting high off of drugs that at least weren't laced with lethal substances. (The purpose of a system is what it does.) Did he get sanctioned and become locally unhireable? Unfortunately yes he did. Does he now provide concierge care to rich people? Yes he does. He found a way to make it work, God bless him.

Everything about the medical system in this country is fucked. Hospitals, doctors, nurses, pharmacies, pharmacists, pharmacy techs, phlebotomists, clinic administrative staff, insurance companies, medical schools and schooling, licensing boards, drug advertising to both providers and patients, pharmaceutical reps, researchers, research, publishing, medical trials, pharmaceutical companies, manufacturers and distributors, medical equipment, charting software, billing and billing codes, diagnostic criteria, charity and low income services, accessible transportation, home care, the lack of independent individual patient advocates, dietitians and nutritionists, access to physical and occupational therapy and physical and occupational therapists, the massive bigotry of every kind rampant in every corner of the medical field, social work, senior care and assisted living, deprioritization of informed consent and harm reduction, disability applications, inaccessibility of medical records, especially psychiatric notes which are specifically allowed to be withheld from patients, lack of continuity of care for disadvantaged people, care that is equitably accessible to disabled people, telemedicine, patient portals, phone systems, clinic hours, every single aspect of inpatient and outpatient psychiatry, facility security, all sorts of things going on with therapists who are nevertheless probably the least malicious group of people in this entire charade, aaaaaand patients themselves.

Also hospital toilets that are too tall and make it literally physically impossible for me to poop while I'm there waiting for somebody to come out of surgery. I just needed to take a crap, guys. You didn't need to make the toilets so tall that my feet didn't even touch the floor. It is very clean but there is no shitting for short people at St Francis.

[tea-and-secrets]

I'm irrationally afraid of way too many things and I. Idk what 2 do about it

I can't seek professional help or anything and I feel like it's slowly eating away at me

Like I don't like using the stove or air fryer bc what if I do something wrong and the house burns down? I sometimes recheck the door is locked like 10 times a night just to make SURE

There's more I can't remember but regardless it sucks

.

[lastoneout]

It's also like super fucking infuriating to see people continue to argue that generative AI is the best way for disabled and/or poor people to make art because like, you know what helps make art more accessible? Giving poor and disabled people money.

Like take me for instance, I'm disabled. I get severe migraines and intense leg/back pain if I sit at my computer for too long, my hEDS makes holding pens and pencils hard, my ADHD makes it hard for me to start certain tasks and/or stop them before I potentially hurt myself, my neck also hurts if I look down too much, my dyslexia AND my ADHD both make it difficult to keep track of a story as I write and use correct spelling and grammar, plus, I need to prioritize taking care of myself and going to appointments and keeping my house clean and that takes up a lot of my free time. All of these things make creating the kind of art I want to create difficult if not occasionally impossible.

So what do you think would solve my problems better? Giving me money so that I can have a drawing tablet and desk chair that won't hurt my neck or back, another tablet + pen and a lap table and comfortable body pillows for drawing in bed, easier transportation to my doctors appointments, effective treatment for my chronic pain and migraines, the ability hire someone to help me keep my house clean, a spelling/grammar checker that isn't complete ass, and a therapist and psychatrist who can help me manage my ADHD better?

Or an AI program that takes my input and spits out a drawing or story made of stolen content glued together that, in the case of the art, I cannot meaningfully edit without starting over, which also destroys the environment in the process?

Seems pretty obvious to me. I don't need AI, I need help to manage the things that are actually stopping me from being able to write and draw.

Or take my mom. She's had severe rhumatoid arthritis since she was a small child, her hands are deformed and she relies on her wheelchair to get around. She doesn't need AI to help her paint, she needs special paint brushes she can actually hold, a table her wheelchair will fit at, and someone to help her with personal hygiene/keep her house clean/take her to doctors appointments so she actually has free time to paint.

Does that poor kid growing up in public housing with parents who are too poor to afford art classes or supplies or to send them to college really need a computer program to draw for them, or do they need support to help them take those classes, buy drawing supplies, and money so they can go to college.

Blind people can paint, deaf musicians exist, people with missing limbs find all sorts of ways to make art, people with parkinson's paint with typewriters, my mother can't hold a normal paintbrush and she makes some of the most beautiful watercolor paintings I've ever seen, Van Gogh had bipolar disorder and only sold like one painting when he was alive, I mean for real how many different artists have you heard of who's biographies start with them being born into poverty?

This is not meant to be inspiration porn, these people are just ones who were able to find ways to make art despite their struggles. They shouldn't have had to struggle at all, but god imagine how many more artisrs and writers we could have had if none of them had to overcome those struggles. It breaks my heart to think of all the wonderful art that never got to exist because no one helped the people who could have made it actually have the time, money, support, and safety they needed to make it. AI would not have saved them because making art isn't the problem, being disadvantaged is the problem. Living in a world that refuses to make room for you is the problem. Being fucking poor is the problem. Humans have always found ways to make art despite huge barriers, the solution isn't a computer that makes art for them, it's SUPPORT AND MONEY SO THEY CAN OVERCOME THOSE BARRIERS AND MAKE THEIR OWN ART.

As a last example: I love watching dancing and I would love to be able to dance, but I'm terrible at it(I got kicked off a dance team for not being able to learn the dance at all despite spending weeks on it, idk my brain wasn't made for dancing) and my disabled body makes it more pain than pleasure if not actively dangerous, anyway. Having a robot dressed to look like me dance next to me while I get to watch would not make me feel like I'm getting to dance. It would actually be extremely fucking demoralizing and frustrating. I would hate that!!

Having an AI spit out a painting or book would not make me feel like I got to paint or write a book. It's a fucking anamatronic doll running on stolen ideas and it will never be the same as getting to actually expirience the joy of creating art first hand. AI is not the solution. Helping people who need it is the solution. And I am CONSTANTLY pissed to think about all the time and money that goes into these fucking AI programs that would be better spent helping disabled and poor people get the help they need so they can make art themselves, all while the people running the nightmare plagiarism pollution machines pretend that their horrible inventions exist to help people like me.

[trans-axolotl]

so im going into therapy (or social work, more broadly) as a profession (in school rn). i know that not everyone in anti psych would support that, understandably, and im not under an illusion that therapy isnt tied to the whole system and process. but i want to bring a liberationist, anti-racist, pro-mad, and abolitionist ideology to help who i can

do you have any suggested resources or reading recommendations or idk any insight on how to inform the way i go about juggling anti psychiatry in a profession that is considered going hand in hand with it?

Hi anon.

I think there can be ways that people working in the psych system can leverage power and resources in a way where they're acting in solidarity with psych survivors and mad people, but in reality, this very rarely happens, even among professionals who identify as radical or as having lived experience.

Fundamentally, the psychiatric system is one that perpetuates structural violence, and in smaller and larger ways, anyone who works within the system to legitimize it contributes to and is complicit in that violence. So I think that for anyone who is planning to work within the system, you need to be upfront with yourself that there is harm occurring and that isn't something you can just ignore or act like that's something you're separate from. Even if you're not working inpatient or facilitating forced drugging of someone, there's still a lot of ways that therapists can be complicit in psychiatric violence.

One of the most obvious ways is through mandatory reporting. I believe that in order to be an ethical therapist you must break the law--mandatory reporting is a dangerous way that mad people are surveilled by the state, and therapists must work to interrupt that and prevent it. There are a lot of therapists out there already talking about practical ways to avoid mandatory reporting and how to be upfront with clients about it, and I can link some of that at the end of this post. I won't say it's always easy, but we have an obligation to each other to do everything we can to stop psych incarceration from happening.

I think there's a lot of ways that even outpatient, therapists are asked to enable other forms of psychiatric violence. Even if in your practice, you're really focusing on liberation, respecting autonomy, etc, there are ways that other psych professionals might try to get you to help them perpetuate different forms of harm. And because of your degree and licensure, there's this power imbalance between you and your client that means you do have the power to enable these kinds of harms. The degree next to your name means that you will always be believed over your client and that is a lot of power to hold. If you're working with a client with an eating disorder and their dietitian gives an ultimatum that they have to be hospitalized or they're refusing to provide care, what do you do? If your client's psychiatrist is refusing to answer questions or let them switch to other types of medications, what do you do? If your client is involved in a court case and you're getting subpoenaed for their medical records, what do you do? If your MSW program requires you to do one of your internships in an inpatient program, how do you prevent that from happening? There are a lot more examples I can think of, but these are just a few things I wanted to highlight for ways that therapy is still entangled in the larger system.

Another thing that feels important to me is to make the distinction between being a "good therapist" and helping people, because I don't think those things are the same. I see a lot of "radical" therapists get fixated on this idea that they need figure out ways to make the psych system run smoother, to improve access, to overall make the psych system better, and that this is the only way to help people. It's really important to be able to separate those ideas. For me, psych abolition is a project of building up our capacity to care for each other while destroying the systems that currently enact violence on us, and reformist ideas about expanding psychiatric systems, increasing funding, and legitimize psychiatric authority gets in the way of actually transforming care. I think in order to help people, you need to commit to being a "bad therapist" in the eyes of a capitalist healthcare system.

One recommendation I have is to read Franco Basaglia's writing and learn about his approach of the democratic psychiatry movement. As a psychiatrist, he saw his role as a way to disrupt the system and deinstitutionalize. He has this quote where he talks about how they weren't focused on eliminating problems, but rather on how deinstitutionalization would create more chaos and new problems--and how that created so much possibility for transformation. I think he's proof that there are certainly ways that psych professionals can act as accomplices who actually are in solidarity with psych survivors, but it's rare.

Last point I have is that although you gain something from professional training and licensure, there's also a lot you lose. MSW programs often don't actually teach you the skills you want to learn about how to actually support people--there's a lot you're going to have to learn from continuing education credits. From my friends who have gotten their MSW, I've heard a lot of complaints about how surface level a lot of information is, and also about how a lot of the way that information is taught reinforces hierarchal ideas and doesn't respect patient autonomy. I'll also say that gaining licensure oftentimes creates barriers for radical action--I've seen so many therapists who then become so attached to holding onto and not losing that licensure that they weigh it above mad people's lives. I've heard so many therapists say "Oh I can't speak up against restraint because I'll lose my job/I can't ignore mandatory reporting because I'll lose my license/etc etc etc." And I think that can be a really damaging mindset that harms your potential to actually help people. There are several therapists I know who are in the process of intentional de-licensure because of this, but regardless if you pursue that path or not, this is a mindset you need to be on guard against.

All that being said, I think there is a need for more abolitionist therapists who are able to help support our communities, both in terms of creating that space for individual support and on a collective level. There are ways that you can leverage your access to resources and the way you're seen as legitimate in the system to help advocate for people, get them support, and interfere with psych violence. I have a therapist comrade who keeps working in inpatient psychiatry specifically so that they can continue to sneak in banned materials to the ward, prevent illegal restraints, be involved in court proceedings as an advocate, connect people to mad liberation resources, let psych patients use their phone, document psychiatric abuse with the plan to fairly soon release that information as a whistleblower, and more that I'm not going to talk about publicly. They still grapple with the fact that they are currently perpetuating harm at the same time, but to them, it's worth it to be able to sabotage things in that way. And I think that there are ways that you can take the information you learn in your program that is actually useful and find ways to bring that directly to your communities, and that there is good you can. I just think you have to be very intentional and aware of what it takes to actually do that, rather than just staying complacent with the label of being a "radical therapist" without doing anything to make that true.

For resources--here's my psych abolition drive with a lot of different zines, books, workbooks on different psych abolition topics. I really would recommend reading Psychiatry Inside Out by Franco Basaglia as an example of successful psychiatric resistance.

I would also suggest checking out Mutual Aid/Self Social therapy--the people who created this project are trusted comrades of mine, have both gotten their MSW or LMFT, and they have a lot of helpful insight into how to navigate things like avoiding mandatory reporting, de-licensure, etc. They have a discord server and also have regular online MAST meetings to train people on what MAST is and how to set up a MAST collective.

Genuinely wishing you the best of luck through school and appreciate that you're actively thinking about these things.

[drdemonprince]

Do you have any immediate thoughts about core identity and autism?

I have a great, neurodivergent friendly therapist - bottom-up, somatic, all that shit that's supposed to be good for autistic clients. But I've been stalled for the last half dozen sessions over the feeling that I have no core 'self', that I am so much a mimic of people around me that my internal self has no core qualities beyond the immediate drive to survive and avoid demands and sensations.

It comes out as "I have no inherent value" (c'mon, no one does) and "I have no inherent moral drive, I just know what causes me pain probably causes others pain, and I am aware other people are different enough from me that I have to believe them when they say something causes them pain, and I must avoid pain for myself and others"

I've been trying to express to my therapist that core identity terms are maybe better couched in vocabulary for computer programs or robots, but it's difficult to adjust therapy speak into that even with a curious and agile therapist.

I have been thinking a lot about animals lately. Animals that are not humans have no "core self." They have no thoughts of self-worth. If you truly look into the eyes of, say, a squirrel or a turtle, you will immediately recognize a great, living void. They are a collection of survival instincts, learned responses, and reactions to the present environment that have some general pattern of constancy but which are ever-evolving.

They do not exist for any "reason," they just exist. No instinct that they have is false, even one that is mimicked or new. They have no morality, only reactions that propel them and follow a sense that is senseless to us creatures with minds that are forever narrating and judging. They just exist and that existence is inseparable from their present physical reality. The same is true of each of us, our minds only complicate it.

I think it is very compelling to be much like any other animal. When I am alone, or feeding my most primal hungers (when I am famished, say, or craving a drink or cigarette), I have no worries of whether I am being authentic or valuable to society or even if I am good. I simply experience feelings and cravings. Life is lived through experiences, as a consciousness that can take things in and do things that affect reality in turn. Life is not lived via our identity or even our beliefs. The universe is horrifically indifferent to what we aspire to be, or believe is right. Entire species exist only due to mating rituals that require murder or rape, and the thriving of one species often spells the doom of others or even itself. It is disgusting and meaningless, being an animal. But in that void there is such stillness and great beauty.

I have been able to access this dark-eyed feral side of myself more lately. I have been spending more time alone, no longer even trying to mask to myself as the kind of social, giving being I had convinced myself I had to be, if my life narrative were to be that I got well. I don't care about being well. Or even being good. Those terms are playmobil level human made up stupid. When I touch that void, and dwell in it, I can see that none of it matters and none of those human judgments are real, and that the fiction of my core self does not really exist at all. And I find it very peaceful.

Lately hard core bondage really helps me get there, mentally, as do long swims and long walks late at night. Conversations with the rare few who are not afraid of almost any thought also help me get there. Most of all I just need time and fucking silence. There are pictures of me lately where I can see an animal. Not someone posing or trying to manage an impression. In those few photos I can feel some unnamable emotion that is real. It is that animal void that exists in all things, that is the breathing of life into flesh.

Therapy, I have got to say, is the stuff of small minds. I don't mean you, I mean your therapist. Therapy can only process in individual personality units, which are a fiction, and it believes that problems exist to be solved through an optimization of the self. You need to be confident. Need to know who you are.

I have often written like that, forgive me for it. But problems do not exist to be solved, they just exist, and some things do not get better, and there really isn't a better or a worse anyway, there is just a vast ecosystem responding to things. A great void of life always teeming, always changing. Great loss and growth and change, violence and birth.

And so I am not surprised to hear your therapist does not get it. The detached view you take of morality likely frightens them. But that might mean you are on a far more compelling path than what they would desire for you, which is probably self-esteem boosting exercises and tidy scripts for setting boundaries with your parents. That stuff is fine. But expecting too much from it is like asking a can opener to explain the universe.

Thanks for writing.

[laika-of-the-stars]

We're finally getting therapy for our DID, and it's. Relieving, but also terrifying. I love our therapist, though, she comforted us when we told her how scared we were to lose one another via integration. She said something to the effect of "The goal isn't to make everyone into one big blob, it's to help them let go of their burdens and give you access to their gifts, their joys," and that. Is not a way we've heard it phrased before, so it was really comforting.

I'm still terrified of being the new host. I'm still terrified what healing means for us. I'm still terrified that we'll never love ourselves. I'm terrified that I'll remain unrecognizable to myself. I'm terrified. But I know we'll only continue to feel miserable if I don't do anything.

We've been having some hard switches today, so I hope next week gets here soon.

[lightsovermonaco]

Wedding Date, Part 1 (Pato O'Ward)

an: requests and comments always welcome! There will be at least two more parts to this series.

wc: 4900

Summary: Pato is in need of a wedding date, desperately. Despite hating him, and despite him knowing it, he asks you to be his date and you agree.

"I need a date to this wedding next weekend."

"So? Take your sister." You don't bother to look up from the magazine you flip through. Pato is always in need of a date for something and he always takes his sister. If she's busy, he'll take his mother, or a cousin, or another relative until he's exhausted all options. You're not entirely sure why he's pacing in his trailer now like a caged beast, because even if by some rarity they were all busy, there's a slew of women around the paddock that would jump at the chance to go with him... just not you.

Your distaste of Pato began long before you were ‘promoted’ to the glamorous role of being his pseudo-handler. His flirtatious personality, womanizing one liners and general flippant humor surrounding racing rubs you the wrong way. Racing is a serious business and should be treated as such. It's his lifeblood, not a hobby. Some days you question his dedication, honestly- but voicing said opinions isn't your place. 

Oh, and women. He loves women, too. And the occasional man- You don’t judge him on that front, but god would it kill him to be discreet?

Besides- he's so loud, physically as well as mentally. Being around Pato drains your social battery quicker than a meeting with Zac Brown, and that's saying something. All the Mexican driver does is yap- and not in the fun, gossipy way that people do with their friends.  

In short, you cannot stand the man and would rather walk a mile over hot coals than spend an unnecessary minute with him. 

However, unfortunately for you, your exemplary ability to separate your personal feelings from your work made you the prime candidate for being an assistant. If you had to pinpoint the core tenet of your day to day life, it was the importance of separating church and state; wherein this case, the church is a race track and the state is yourself. People like that apparently, because multiple of your colleagues recommended you for your current role when the job opened up. 

Cue your transition to being Pato's personal therapist slash coordinator slash problem solver. 

Pato scoffs and throws his hands up like a child denied their favorite treat, "so she's busy. And last time I took her to a wedding, she made me leave so early I didn't even get cake! It was horrible.”

"Honestly, from what I heard that's not her fault. Who waits until eleven pm to serve the wedding cake?"

Pato pauses, his half undone race suit swaying slightly at the waist as he turns to wag a finger at you "Someone who doesn't want to interrupt the party, that's who. We were all out on the dance floor, having fun and enjoying ourselves!” You roll your eyes, but Pato either doesn't notice or doesnt care as he continues, “And I'm getting kinda sick of having her at every event... she likes to steal the spotlight."

"Here we go," you mumble, flipping the page and preparing for a long winded Pato-themed rant. 

“I love her, but when I'm the one that's invited in the first place I don't want to leave early. I want to enjoy it, you know? This is Felix's wedding, I want to bring someone fun… hey!” Pato snaps his fingers and turns to you with wide eyes and a grin that has you instantly on edge. You know that face; it means he's got a wild idea, particularly one that requires your assistance to complete. 

“Who am I messaging,” you deadpan as you pull out your phone. No doubt there's some obscure influencer that he's set his eyes on. It'll be up to you then to set up the date (using Pato's Instagram of course, to which you have full access), arrange her flights, ensure her dress is suitable so as to not cause a scandal, and secure two hotel rooms for however long Pato decides his holiday should be. 

“No one! No one- I was just thinking…” Pato’s eyes twinkle like stars. He rolls his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he contemplates his request, until finally he says, “why don't you come with me?”

You choke on air at the absurd suggestion. A million reasons flood your mind: because it's unprofessional and because you'd rather endure nails scraping on a chalkboard until the end of time to name a few. 

“I'm not hearing a no,” Pato sing-songs as his stupid grin grows wider and wider. 

“No!” You would like to tell him to fuck off, but your self respect keeps you from doing so. “Where the hell did that insane idea come from-”

“Come on,” Pato holds his hands out in front of him like a beggar in search of pocket change. “Come with me! I'll pay for whatever dress you pick out, the hotel room, flights, everything. I'll take care of it all. Who knows,” Pato shrugs then, the corner of his mouth lifting again in a devilish smile. “Maybe you'll even have fun.”

“Uh, no. Hell no. Even if it wasn't completely unprofessional, I would lose my mind before we even got on a plane. So thanks, but no thanks to being your fake date.”

Pato throws his hands up, the action causing his black fireproofs to come free of his race suit and expose an inch or two of his stomach. Not that you notice. Or care. “Oh come on! Am I really that horrible to be around?”

“Yes,” you respond without looking up from your phone. You make a note on your calendar to have Pato's mental sanity checked before the end of the break, because clearly the music city GP has knocked something loose in his head. 

“I'll give you my race bonus next time I score points.”

That finally gives you pause. You've seen those checks, even deposited them on his behalf once or twice. Tempting, very tempting. Possibly enticing enough for you to throw all thoughts of work-life balance out the window and commit to a few days of torture.

“Can I get that offer in writing?”

**********

“This is insane.” Despite the excessive force you exert on your suitcase, you can't zip the damn thing shut. You've tried sitting on it, rearranging twice, and removing a few things that you decided you don't absolutely need. Maybe the stubborn luggage is the first of many bad omens, the start of the bad luck you've brought upon yourself by accepting Pato's bargain. Perhaps the wisest thing to do is to call him and cancel, even if doing so at the last minute makes you a bit of an ass. 

But doing so would mean you miss an all inclusive, all expenses paid trip to Copenhagen, and who could pass that up? You've never stepped foot outside the Midwest, let alone outside of the country. Passing up an opportunity like this seems wasteful. Anyone else would jump at the opportunity. You shouldn’t let your dislike of the man supplying the credit card stop you from enjoying something.

“Fucking hell,” you mumble under your breath. You can't change your mind now, not after Pato's bought you a dress that's more expensive than the one you wore to your senior prom. The guilt of leaving him to fend for himself and arrive at his best mate's wedding dateless would eat you alive. And besides, you are not returning the dress you picked out. 

“One more go. If I can't get this dumb thing closed in the next three minutes, I won't go.” You tip your head towards the ceiling, “hear that? Three minutes!” 

Your aimless skyward shout is answered by your upstairs neighbor, who stamps their foot. “Ah- sorry Miss. Underwood!” The cranky old woman that lives above you has reported you more than once for bogus reasons; you would rather not have to deal with the front office before your international trip. 

Someone, somewhere must have heard your plea and responded with much more grace than Miss. Underwood, because the suitcase zips closed near effortlessly on your next attempt. “Aha! Finally! God, that was close.”

A message pops up on your phone with near poetic timing, coming not a second after you've dramatically wiped your brow and dusted off your hands. 

I'm leaving now, should be there in about a half hour. You ready?

The idea of riding in a car with Pato alone sounds less ideal than following his strict diet for a single day. Reminding yourself that this is a professional weekend away in Europe and not a personal venture is enough to settle your nerves for now. You can be professional, no problem. Easy peasy.

Yep. I'm still fine with an Uber if you don't want to drive me.

Too late I made up my mind :) see you soon!

“Insufferable.” Dread sets in where excitement lived earlier. You aren't a hundred percent sure you can survive four days with Pato O'Ward in a foreign country. Your limits will be tested, that much you know for sure because you can count on Pato to push every available button you have in order to get a rise out of you. 

Opting for a balance between comfort and style, a simple pair of black leggings and an oversized vintage indy 500 sweater is your preferred travel outfit. Your hair you leave in your usual casual style, not bothering to put in the effort to do anything special with it when it'll likely be ruined by the time you touch down in Copenhagen. 

Pato knocks when he arrives, which seems far too polite to be correct. Part of you expected him to barge in unannounced and make your one bedroom apartment his own. “Hola bella,” he greets with a smile. His hands stay in his pockets. He doesn't invite himself in, despite you leaving the door wide open when you step away to grab your things. 

Interesting. 

“You can come in,” you call over your shoulder. “I have to finish packing up my makeup since you're here early.”

“Oh, yeah sorry. Traffic was lighter than I expected.” It’s odd seeing Pato in anything that isn’t papaya colored or decorated with some sort of racing logo. He wears a forest green hoodie with a little red heart in the center with a pair of matching sweats. It’s one of those outfits that seems cringe on the average person, but works infuriatingly well on Pato.

Pato doesn't venture further into your apartment than the three steps that are required for him to be able to close the door without it hitting him. You purse your lips and motion to the sofa as your hosting instinct takes over, “you can sit if you want. I should only be a few minutes.”

“Take your time, our flight doesn't leave for a few hours. No rush.” You hate it when Pato tips his head and smiles like that because for a split second every time you hate him a little bit less. Thankfully, it all comes back in full force when he looks away from you. 

Despite Pato’s reassurance you do rush, because the idea of him scrutinizing your place is mortifying. Like, ‘oh fuck me I forgot to wear pants to the board meeting' level of embarrassing to know that he’s out there judging your decor or wondering how you’ve shoved so much into such a tiny one bedroom apartment. Sure, it's small, but it's home and you couldn't imagine living anywhere else. While a bigger place might be nice someday, your paychecks remind you to keep your dreams in check on a biweekly basis. 

To be safe and avoid giving Pato time to linger, you sweep the contents of your vanity into a zippered bag and stuff it into your carry on. You do a final cursory lap through the attached bathroom to ensure all hair dryers, candle warmers, and taps are turned off or unplugged. Once satisfied, you drag your overweight suitcase out. 

“Okay, I think I'm ready.” 

Pato stands in your living room checking out the knock off vintage style race posters that decorate the walls. As expensive as authentic race memorabilia is, you can’t exactly afford to spend hundreds on a single slip of paper for the sake only of hanging it on a wall. Only one poster is real and that is the poster you purchased from the first race you were trackside for with Arrow. Pato points to that one with a cheeky grin, “that's the first race you worked with us, isn't it? I remember that being the first time I saw you on track.” 

“Yes, it was. Now can we go?” You shift on your feet, uncomfortable now that Pato is seeing a side of you that you don't normally share with anyone but your close friends and family. Heaven forbid he notices the family photos on the lower shelf, then you'll be mortified when he laughs at how silly you looked in your Halloween costumes when you were little. 

“Oh yeah, of course. I'm sure you're excited to get a move on!” Pato reaches for your suitcase which catches you off guard. You snatch the handle before he can. “I can help, I really don’t mind. You’re doing me a favor after all.”

Your stubborn independence does not allow you to accept unnecessary help, so you shake your head. “Sorry,” you mumble as your cheeks heat. “I can take care of it.” 

“Alright, note to self… don't be too polite or it'll set you off.” Pato winks, then holds the door for you as you both exit. He waits at the stairs while you lock up, then leads the way to the Mercedes parked at the curb. 

“Right, just the one suitcase? You've got your dress packed in here right?” Pato hefts the suitcase into the car and grins. “Actually I know the answer to that. I told you that you could've spent more on a dress. A hundred dollars? That's it?”

“I don't like wasting money,” you snap. “To some of us, that's expensive.” 

Money has been, and always will be, a touchy subject. Growing up with very little means that you now scrutinize every penny, only spending regularly on things that are strictly necessary. Your budget each month is airtight and you are always careful to save a fair amount before you so much as consider treating yourself to something off your wishlist. 

Pato holds up his hands in apology. “Wasn't trying to insult you, just trying to make conversation. You're doing me a favor here so I just wanted to make sure you got what you wanted.” 

“Right, sure.” Spinning the ring on your left index finger has become somewhat of a nervous tick for you. Pato’s eyes flick to your hands, which immediately sets you on edge. Racing drivers are an observant breed, which is something you silently curse the universe for. 

The ride to the airport is filled with awkward silences. The quiet is broken by the sound of the engine and the occasional directive from the gps on the dash. Pato’s playlist is a mix of spanish and english and you willfully ignore when he occasionally sings along under his breath. So you keep quiet with your attention locked on your phone to avoid being dragged into any small talk. 

The plane ride is more of the same: quiet and tense. Which is partially because despite you insisting on a simple, affordable coach ticket, Pato had ignored your wishes and booked both of you in business class. At least the long flight would be comfortable if nothing else. Granted it would be more enjoyable if you weren't sitting next to a five-foot-something racing driver, but beggars can't be choosers. 

“It's a long flight, so I thought I'd give you the window. The sun will be coming up when we're over Europe, and the view is always to die for. I got us seats on the left side of the plane so you can have the best photo opportunities.” 

That's the second time today that Pato has surprised you, though you would rather eat soap than admit that to his face. “I usually like the aisle, but thanks I guess. I'll probably be sleeping anyway.” 

Pato's expression is one of regret, like maybe he's realizing how insane of an idea this is. “Err, right. I guess I should've known that, considering how often we fly together.”

“We don't fly together. When we have to fly to a race, you fly business class and I sit in the back with the rest of the regular people,” you remind him without remorse. You hate when he throws his wealth in your face, like the seat you're occupying doesn't cost a month's worth of your salary. 

“Right…” 

You almost feel bad. But then you remember that Pato has everything he could ever want or need, and you’re right back to where you started. 

Despite how well you think you hide it, Pato is fully aware of your feelings toward him, or rather lack thereof. Where the relationships you nurture with your other colleagues are fun and friendly, the one you maintain with Pato is strictly professional. Seeing you pivot from laughing with Rossi- Rossi of all people- one minute, to relaying instructions to him in a mechanical voice is evidence enough of how little you think of him. 

Pato has no idea why you're so set on hating him. He has no inkling what he might have done to deserve such animosity. It seems like no matter what he does, your frosty attitude only worsens into an arctic chill. He thought that bringing you on this trip might open your eyes to the other side of him, that maybe allowing you to see what he was like outside of the track could prove to you that he wasn’t the devil that you thought he was. 

So far, no dice. You declined his invitation to join him for breakfast at the highest rated cafe in the city this morning, so he'd gone alone instead and relished the fact that not a single person asked him for a photo or shoved a scrap of paper in his face for him to sign. Once in a while it was nice to fly under the radar, to pass by hundreds of people on the street and have them be none the wiser to his achievements. 

The concept of downtime is foreign to Pato. Being alone and unbothered gave him time to ruminate, which is why he generally preferred to surround himself with a certain level of chaos. In the paddock, that generally meant entertaining himself and others by being the class clown. Cameras are everywhere on a race weekend, watching him like a bug under a magnifying glass, so he generally humored them by putting on a bit of a show. In his personal life, the chaos came from the frequent visits to his hometown where he would be surrounded by family and pets that kept him on his toes. 

Now that he has had time to reflect, Pato is beginning to see the foolishness in his impulsive decision. Asking you to be his date was arguably up there with the dumbest things he's ever done, and that's saying something considering he'd once poured honey in Rossi's boots on a race weekend. He understands now, at least partially, why you were hesitant to accept. 

It doesn't bother him, the fact that you can't stand him. Pato enjoys poking you, seeing how far he can press before you snap at him. It's his way of flirting because yes, he thinks you're gorgeous. There's no point denying it so he might as well embrace it. Perhaps his invitation was wholly selfish, his way of trying to cope with the offseason and knowing he likely wouldn’t be seeing you for weeks at a time. You would miss him as little as one might miss the sticky summer humidity, while Pato would miss you like the sun misses the moon. 

Which is fine. It's fine if you don't laugh at his jokes. It's fine if your lip curls like you've smelt rotten milk whenever he speaks and you don't think he's looking. It’s fine that you don’t spare him a second of your attention, even now when he’s brought you on a trip that he thought could be the start of some positive change. That's all fine, because it doesn't matter if you like him or not. 

Okay, on second thought, maybe it does bother him a little. 

If anything, Pato hopes that this weekend will be the start of you at least tolerating him. Salvaging a scrap of understanding from you cannot be impossible, and even if it were, Pato has defied the odds numerous times before. No one believed in him when he was coming up through the karting ranks, but he did. And he believes in himself now, that he can begin to alter your opinion of him one small gesture at a time. 

Pato unlocks his phone to message you. 

Do you have plans today? I was gonna go to a few museums and see the sights if you wanna join. Up to you!

He debates for a minute about the exclamation mark. Is it too in your face? Too cheery or forceful? Eventually he deletes it before hitting send. Better to sound nonchalant than overdo it. 

His phone remains face down on the table until he finishes his tea. Seeming too eager could be his downfall and he is determined to make this seem as casual as possible. Only once an appropriate amount of time has passed does he allow himself to read your response: sure. I guess so but I don't want to blow my entire budget in one day just fyi

That's fair, dw a lot of it is free!

I'll be ready in an hour 

An hour, Pato can keep himself busy for an hour. Popping in an earbud and exploring for a bit seems like a decent option; he spends thirty minutes listening to music and just walking with no real aim in mind. Once back at the hotel, just on time as per usual, he freshens up in his room. 

Bare bones and necessities is what Patp prefers when he travels. He doesn't like the pomp and circumstance that comes along with a suite; the hotel staff treat him differently when he stays in the expensive rooms even if they haven't the faintest clue who he is. He prefers unassuming, single bed rooms that are no fuss, no muss. And that sort of room is exactly what he booked himself in Copenhagen: low nightly rate, plain but clean white bed sheets, and a bathroom barely big enough to turn around in. 

The room Pato picked for you was this room's opposite. The queen suite was available on the website when he made the last minute reservation and he had not seen any reason not to treat you to a taste of luxury for the weekend. Silk sheets, a fully decorated sitting room, and walk in waterfall shower were only the tip of the iceberg. Included in the weekend rate was a night at the in-house spa if you chose to use it. And while Pato is quite certain you won't bother, he thinks the choice might be nice nonetheless.

Pato had selected that room without a second thought and gone as far as requesting your favorite drinks be stocked up in the suite fridge for your arrival. Since arriving last night, you haven't mentioned the room. Which doesn't matter, because Pato doesn't need the praise; in fact, kind words would feel slightly out of place from you. 

The elevator takes Pato to the top floor, where he finds your room at the end of the hall. It's not hard to find, considering there's three doors in the entire hallway. Pato knocks twice, then steps back to wait. 

“Yeah, coming,” comes your muffled call from inside. The brass room number plate on the door reflects a slightly distorted version of Pato. He can't make a decent impression looking wonky with his hair a mess; how unattractive is hair that stands up on end in every which way? Pato runs his fingers through his hair to loosen up the extra putty he'd applied. The door opens suddenly and you catch him red handed, one hand in his hair and the other holding his phone. 

Perfect.

“I guess I'm never escaping the vanity accusations huh?” Pato's laugh is shaky, awkward even to his own ears. He drops his hands and does his best not to let his gaze wander over you, as tempting as it is. He's determined to make a good impression this weekend, and blatantly checking you out probably wouldn't help his case. 

“Nope, never.” You shake your head and let the oak door click shut behind you. “Well then, you're the man with the plan. Have you been to Copenhagen before or are you just going to the typical tourist places?”

“Hold on, hold on. I think that's the most you've ever said to me at once that wasn't work related. I need a second to process this- you have a personality? This is big news!” Pato grins, hoping to ease into things. He knows it's bad when you don't immediately return the smile. 

Pato doesn't really tend to think around you,  hence the near constant shitty jokes. His brain takes a break from its normal high strung, ping ponging thoughts and empties itself of unnecessary noise. When in your presence, Pato is unfiltered and unapologetically himself. 

When you started at McLaren, he quickly learned that you were safe. Judgment was not something you leveled lightly upon someone. Your prickly exterior was a way of ensuring you don't let the wrong people get close enough to hurt you, but Pato knows that's not all of it. Regardless of how you presented yourself to the world, Pato knows you care deeply for those you choose to include in your life. He also knows you'll always be there when he fails, a steady shoulder for him to lean on- which is more than he can say about many of his previous driver assistants. 

Being comfortable is freeing, but it also gets him in trouble with you more often than he would like. Judging by your current deadpan, he's qualified deadlast as far as ‘appropriately timed humor’ is concerned. “That was a joke,” Pato says after a pause that stretches for an eternity.”

“I am aware that was your attempt at being funny.” You cross your arms and Pato notes the tiny papaya indy car embroidered on the cuff of your cream sweater. “Has anyone ever told you that you're insufferable? You know what, on second thought maybe I'll just stay here.” 

All at once, Pato flies through fear, regret and guilt in the half second it takes you to turn towards the door. He fucks everything up, doesnt he? Gets a good thing going for once, finally convinces you to spend some one on one time with him, and he winds up spilling the marbles. This isn't racing; he can't act on instinct and expect the best outcome. He has to be calculated, hold his tongue and not speak until he's sure the words are the one he wants to say. 

“No wait.” Pato’s fingers brush your arm to stop you. “Look, I'm just trying to be sure you enjoy your time here. I've never been here before,” he adds in answer to your earlier question. “I'm as much of a tourist as you are, so having an exploration partner would be good.” 

“I don't really feel like doing anything with you if you're going to be a dick. No, let me speak,” you say when he opens his mouth. “No macho bullshit alright? Just be normal. I don't need all the bravado and the jokes that make me feel like shit. Just… be Pato, alright? Be yourself for once.”

Pato knows he deserves all that and more. You let him off easy, really. He's been focused on creating a persona instead of being real with you. So Pato nods, centering himself like Rossi taught him last season. Once he feels like himself again some handful of breaths later, he offers you a genuine smile. 

“Let me start again. They have an aquarium here,” Pato says, voice light. Without willing it, a half smile appears on his lips when you tip your head ever so slightly, indicating for him to continue. “I love aquariums, sea otters are my favorite animal. And the jellyfish are cute too! With their squishy bodies and the tentacles-”

There he goes again, his mouth racing a lap ahead of his good sense. Pato's apologetic wince isn't a proper apology, but you accept it nonetheless and throw him a bone that he'll happily chew on. 

“I like aquariums. That sounds like it could be fun.”