Stephanie is, really, the lost child - which is why, as an adult, she remains a child. She is, as someone has already pointed out, truly looking for love, approval, attention, an audience, a following. Loss of her father, even as half baked as he was, was devastating. The attention was never about her. It was about the old folks in the home, her father, his second wife Isabelle, the other child Gerry. And then the baby Stephanie was born. Stephanie has flung herself in the wrong direction with men as a result of an arm’s length mother whom she professes she can’t wait to see, and a father who fiddled with a paint brush taking her occasionally under his wing. From Stephanie’s early marriage to quick divorce, to various romances that turned into long lasting friends. Instant ditching of “friends”, an acute manipulative behavior with people whom she throws overboard, sometimes before they see it coming. Hurting someone, as she has been hurt. A constant manic swirl for her, as she lands, flits away, lands again. It is no surprise then, she is in yet another relationship with a very ill placed/picked young man who snorts, and hasn’t quite come to grasp with his identity - similar to or running alongside Stephanie’s journey on her broken road. She knows no other. So Stephanie skips along, very scattered, talks of life, love and laughter when she should really land herself in a therapists office for multiple, week long chats, at least a few year commitment. The dynamics that we see, will play out until she recognizes the issue and gets help. We will see no improvement, ever. By keeping things messy, she avoids her reality. Clutter is comfort. And now after that blathering. . . . .the most recent vlog. . . . .”you look like Dracula” Mommie says to her man child. His task for the day, screwing in lightbulbs in that God awful wallpapered crack mirrored bathroom. Tight pants, a pea coat, and high heeled boots. Actually, it’s quite sad. The crash will come. In some way, all the volunteers are trying to please her, gift her, make it better - but it’s just more, and more and more. I actually think she is pitiful, and mad in the head - wires not connected, so to speak.