Hi, I'm Chryss.

I'm a television editor. For over 20 years, I've poured my heart into documentary and unscripted storytelling — shaping raw footage into narratives that move people. It's work I love, and this industry has been my home for over two decades.

In 2015, I started getting sick. Crushing fatigue that wouldn't go away. Cognition problems. Pain. It took nearly a decade of searching — doctor after doctor, test after test — before I finally got a name for what was destroying my life: Myalgic Encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (ME/CFS), a debilitating neuroimmune disease that attacks your energy, your cognition, and your ability to do even the most basic things.

The truth is, I've been losing ground for years. Since 2016, I've tried again and again to keep working — and every time, my body has eventually forced me to stop. Each crash has been worse than the last, and each recovery has taken longer. I spent my savings and my retirement searching for answers — seeing functional medicine specialists, paying out of pocket for doctors and treatments my insurance wouldn't cover, doing everything I could to figure out what was happening to me and fight my way back. I kept getting back up. I kept trying.

Last summer, I was incredibly fortunate to land a full-time, staff position as an editor. I was hopeful. But within weeks, I found myself in a work environment that triggered a severe medical and psychiatric crisis on top of my already fragile health. By the end of July, I was violently ill — vomiting daily, unable to function, shaking, in pain. My doctor pulled me from work immediately.

That was over six months ago. I haven't been able to work since. And this time, it's different.

What happened at that job was the final blow. It broke what was left. My health collapsed in a way I haven't been able to come back from.

Where I am now:

I can't walk more than a block without having to sit down on the sidewalk and rest before I can make it home. I can't do a load of laundry without my body shaking and getting sick. Showering is an event that requires planning and recovery. My brain — the tool I've built my entire career on — barely works.

I'm fighting for disability benefits, but the process is agonizingly slow. My employer's insurance company denied my short-term disability claim, and I'm fighting with an appeal. My state disability benefits have run out. My Social Security disability application is in progress. These processes take months — sometimes many months — and I have no income while I wait.

I've managed to keep current on my rent so far, but between years of out-of-pocket medical costs and months without income, I have almost nothing left. Without help, I won't be able to cover the next two months while I fight for the benefits I'm owed. I have Bentley, my one-year-old terrier mix, who just had his first birthday, and he depends on me completely. The thought of losing our home is terrifying.

What the funds will cover:

Rent: Two months at $2,395/month to bridge the gap while I fight for benefits — $4,790

Medical & essentials: Copays, prescriptions, groceries, and basic needs

Why I'm asking for help:

Asking for money is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I've spent my entire career being the person who shows up, puts in the hours, and gets the job done. I spent every penny I had trying to get well. And what happened at that job took the last of what I had.

I'm not asking for forever. I'm asking for a bridge — two months to keep me stable while the systems catch up.

If you've ever worked with me, laughed with me in an edit bay, shared a meal on a long shoot day, or just believe that people fighting serious illness deserve a safe place to heal, please consider helping. Even sharing this campaign makes an enormous difference.

Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for caring.

With gratitude and love,

Chryss