Help Us Live

Asking for help is never easy and often feels guilt-inducing, especially knowing that many people who come across my campaign may also be facing their own challenges. But I have no other choice. I’ve been holding onto this for weeks, and even after I published it, I continued to hold on, unsure of where to go or what to do next.

I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, staying up all night, torn between whether I should do this or not. But after thinking it through over and over, I decided that I had to. And here I am, sharing our story in the hopes that someone can help us.

My little sibling, just seven and a half years old, often asks, 'When is Dad coming home?' It's a question I’ve grown used to hearing over the past four years—one I asked myself when I was their age. But recently, they asked something different: 'Are we going to be okay?' That question hit me like nothing else. They’re too young to carry this kind of worry, to notice the stress and fear I try so hard to hide. I wanted to say yes, to reassure them, but the truth is, I don’t know. We’re all holding on, but it feels like everything is slipping through our fingers.

My mom, who is in her early 40s, has been battling Type 2 diabetes for nearly a decade, and her health is rapidly deteriorating. For years, we’ve watched as her blood sugar spikes to dangerous levels despite her not consuming much sugar. She takes daily insulin along with multiple medications to manage her condition, but complications keep piling up—constant UTIs, fatigue, and other serious health concerns. The stress of watching her fight every single day has become unbearable.

In 2022, she faced a life-threatening health crisis after contracting COVID and spent four days in the ICU on a ventilator. While she survived, her health has never fully recovered. Diabetes had already weakened her body, and since then, her condition has only worsened. Over the past few years, she has been losing a significant amount of hair; diabetes is known to cause hair thinning and loss due to poor circulation and nutrient deficiencies. The changes have been deeply distressing for her.

On top of this, she struggles with nerve pain, often wincing and squinting in discomfort as waves of pain shoot through her body. Sometimes she loses sensation in her limbs, which is terrifying to witness. If her diabetes isn’t managed better, this could continue to worsen, making even simple movements a struggle.

Two years ago, her doctor warned that she was on the brink of kidney failure. I remember my dad coming home and telling me, and it left me feeling completely shaken. While she has been trying to manage her health since then, the fear of what could happen still looms over us every day.

My dad has been through so much. In his early 20s, he sacrificed his own dreams to provide for his family back in Asia, stepping in to support his younger brothers while their father battled cancer. When their father passed away, he took on the responsibility of raising them as his own, never once thinking about himself.

But when he recently needed support the most, he faced his struggles alone. Despite all their sacrifices, when my parents needed support the most, they faced their struggles alone. Even during financial hardships—like when my dad struggled to put a down payment on his taxi seven years ago—help never came. Still, my parents never resented it. They were just happy their family members were doing well.

Now, they find themselves in an even more difficult situation, yet the people they once helped are nowhere to be found.

My father has always believed in showing up for family, no matter the circumstances. When my maternal cousin lost his father in 2012, my dad supported him however he could. And when his mother passed away in 2023, my parents stepped in again, despite already being stretched thin. That’s just who they are—they give, even when they have little to offer.

But now, they’re the ones who need help. He works tirelessly as a taxi driver, logging 65-77 hours a week (often putting in 14-16 hour days driving a taxi)—not including the additional hours spent on weekly maintenance tasks like refueling, car washing, and more—accumulating over 202,000 miles in 4.5 years with his recent vehicle. He doesn’t stop until he’s exhausted every option, driving until the ride-hailing apps warn him he has to take a break. So many times, he’s been just minutes from home, yet he keeps driving—working and circling the city for hours before finally coming back.

But as a taxi driver, my dad has no sick leave or paid time off, so when he takes time off, it’s not to rest—it’s to take my mom to doctor’s appointments, to maintain his vehicle, or to do grocery shopping, leaving no real 'off' time for him. Each missed day of work only adds to the financial burden.

Being a taxi driver comes with risks that many people don’t realize. My dad has faced moments of verbal challenges or tense interactions that could have escalated physically simply for doing his job. Yet, he never complains. He rarely talks about these incidents, keeping them to himself so we don’t worry. But I see the weight he carries—the exhaustion, the stress, the quiet moments when he’s holding it all in. Despite everything, he keeps going, pushing through fear and fatigue to provide for our family.

Later in life, while raising me, he sacrificed everything for us. With all the overwhelming responsibilities, he never got the chance to care for himself. Now, in his 50s, he has no savings, no retirement, and no way out. My mom has no savings at all and is completely dependent on my dad. Despite all the sacrifices, it feels like he's been stuck in a cycle with no escape.

Recently, he underwent major surgery and was out of work for weeks. After returning to work for just a week, his car broke down, adding even more stress to an already difficult situation. The car had been experiencing critical issues such as unexpected shutdowns, difficulty climbing & reversing on inclines, and a sudden loss of acceleration. Despite consulting 15 different mechanics and undergoing multiple diagnostic tests, the issues still weren’t resolved; adding even more financial strain to an already overwhelming situation and prevented him from working.

What makes this even more devastating is that my dad had already paid off his old vehicle and planned to use it for at least two more years. But when it started breaking down, the cost of repairs was nearly the same as its resale value, leaving him with an impossible choice. After exhausting every option, he was forced to put down a small payment on a new car—something he never wanted to do. The high monthly payments are now another burden on top of everything else. He didn’t want to take on this risk, but without a working vehicle, he had no way to earn a living. It was a decision made out of necessity, not choice, and one that continues to weigh heavily on him.

He keeps going, day after day, giving everything he has, but it’s becoming too much for him. His chronic pain and high blood pressure only add to his struggles. After long, grueling hours at work, there are times when he can barely move his legs, and the pain becomes so intense that he struggles to walk without support, often holding onto the wall for balance when he enters the house. Seeing this often scares me and reminds me how much he's pushing through just to keep going. It’s a painful reminder that his time is running out, and it makes me feel even worse for my younger sibling, who is too young to fully understand the weight of our situation. For the constant pain in his arms, which worsens from gripping the steering wheel for hours, he uses a local anesthetic cream that blocks nerve signals to provide temporary relief. But even with this, the discomfort persists, and my dad keeps going—never complaining, always working tirelessly for us. Seeing him endure this pain while pushing through his daily responsibilities is a painful reminder of how much he's sacrificing for our family.

We’re drowning, and I don’t know how much longer we can keep fighting like this. I see my dad pushing himself to the brink, my mom struggling every day with her health, and my little sibling trying to make sense of all of this. I’m terrified that we’re running out of time, and I don’t know how to fix any of it. But I can’t give up. We can’t give up.

So here I am, asking for help. If you can find it in your heart to support us financially or by sharing this campaign, it would mean everything to us. Every contribution, no matter how small, brings us closer to ensuring my mom’s health, my dad’s well-being, my baby sibling's happiness, and a future where we can breathe a little easier. Please, if there’s anything you can do, we would be forever grateful.

With gratitude,

Leyan LF

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I understand the importance of trust in crowdfunding, and I want to assure you that this campaign is genuine. However, if you have any concerns and would prefer to request a refund, you can do so here: Refund Request Link.