Donate to Help Tobias Find a Safe Haven

Hello, my name is Tobias. I am a disabled/neurodivergent and nonbinary writer. I've spent my whole life being the helper, the person who has tried to be everything for everyone, in both my personal and work life, but I can't be that person anymore.

I am desperately trying to escape my current living situation. I know that everyone is inundated with gofundme's these days, but where I live now is not simply unpleasant/abusive, my family is actively being ableist in ways that are harming my mental and physical health.

Even growing up, I was snapped at and dismissed when I had frequent dizzy spells, and it has only gotten worse as I've grown older and picked up chronic nausea and respiratory issues and diabetes along the way.

Several years ago, my dizzy spells got bad enough that a very generous friend gave me a wheelchair and walker and shower chair. Within two weeks, all three of them were shoved up into the attic without consulting me. I was crushed at how little my family seemed to even simply believe that what I was experiencing was real or worth the effort. But even at that point, I didn't realize how much further downhill it could go.

This past October I was hospitalized and put in the ICU for ketoacidosis, with a further two hospital visits in short order afterwards for respiratory issues. Before October I was able to walk completely unassisted, and now I require a cane to get around, and a rollator walker with a seat for longer distances.

My home is a split level, and I kept the rollator walker upstairs for when I needed a place to rest when cooking or walking down the hall. Beginning immediately, it was constantly pushed out of my reach or used to stack coats and belongings on, requiring that I clear it off for my use every time, which was very physically draining.

When the holidays arrived, I was informed that my walker must go downstairs to my room, where I didn't need it, in order to free up space. When I worked up to telling my mom that this upset me, she told me that I was a very angry person and should tell my therapist about this in order to get help.

Even for everyday things like asking for help fetching things from the floor because it makes me very lightheaded and throws off my balance, at best I get resentment and impatience when they do help.

These are just a few examples.

When I was still physically capable of working, I worked 75+ hour weeks as a caretaker at mental health group homes to try to escape. My health worsened until my body failed me and I couldn't work at all anymore, and those attempts all failed.

I have come to dread leaving my room and speaking with almost everyone in my family. It is reaching the point where I am beginning to give up hope of ever genuinely feeling safe and comfortable in my own home.

My fiancé lives seven hours away from me in Virginia, and the possibility of at least temporarily living in a guest room at their sister's home has been gaining traction. I do not have social security income or a job of any sort, and moving costs are a brick wall currently blocking the way.

This is a ray of hope that you can directly help with. If you can donate even the smallest amount I will be deeply grateful, along with sharing it.