Hello friends.

I'm Sama. I am 32 years old, and for the last 9 years, exactly one thing in this world has kept me alive: my beautiful mother. I'm bipolar. I have panic disorder. I have ADHD. I've been through hospitalizations for suicidal ideation, around-the-clock panic attacks that sent me to the ER multiple times, seizures brought on by substance abuse (I'm 4.5 years clean now!), and without my mom, one of those things would have defeated me for good.

I am now approaching the point when I will have to live without my mom. Her nasty battle with lymphoma is nearing its end, and we've enrolled her in hospice care. And I'm not ready. I don't think anyone really is, but I'm nowhere close. I haven't been employed since 2016. I have no savings. I have a lot of debt. And I am just not equipped to stand on my own two feet. Without a lot of help, I won't live through it. Not without the one thing that's kept me alive.

One major thing that has prevented me from participating in society as most adults do is, I believe very strongly, autism spectrum disorder. While I love many of my autistic traits, others of them have helped form a barrier between me and the life people would expect me to live. In conjunction with the symptoms of my other diagnoses, I believe those traits will continue to cause a mismatch between myself and adult society and inhibit my ability to live independently.

Until now, I have not sought to formalize my diagnosis. My therapist, who specializes in autism, strongly agreed with my conclusions when I sought her assistance through a particularly rough patch in 2022, so I felt that I would only pursue a formal assessment if I needed it. The cost was prohibitive, the process was opaque, and I had heard horror stories of people's experiences with doctors who could not hear or understand them. Most doctors who work with autistic people work with children, and we still have a long way to go in understanding and supporting the needs of autistic adults, especially those who spent their childhoods undiagnosed and had no choice but to learn to mask their autistic traits. So I felt like the diagnostic process could too easily go wrong and become traumatic, complicating and worsening the struggles I was already experiencing. And I didn't feel like I could undertake the difficult and complex task of applying for disability. While my mom was supporting me, I was lucky enough to put that idea on the back burner and focus on getting myself through each day.

But now, as I prepare for this terrifying new chapter, people who care about me and my mom are going to help guide me through the process of applying for disability. As part of that process, I've been encouraged to pursue a formal diagnosis to make things as clear and uncomplicated as possible. And fortunately, I've found a resource that is both less scary and less expensive than I expected. Through Prosper Health, I can get a formal assessment for $950. That's still much more than I have, but as I have watched the love for my mom pour in, it doesn't feel like it will be insurmountable if we can get a little help from our community. Additionally, Prosper specializes in working with autistic adults, so I'm much more comfortable in the belief that they will hear and understand my story and work with me to help everyone else understand, too.

Those of you who know my mom know how deeply and completely she loves me. She has made it her life's purpose for the last 32 years, and I want her to know forever just how thoroughly she has fulfilled that purpose. I am hoping I can show her that I will be okay. I will find a way to live without the warm blanket of protection she has offered me. And I believe this will be a very helpful first step.

Thank you so much. I am so tremendously grateful for any help I receive through this difficult time. Please do not give more than you can comfortably afford.