Help Tristan Take Back His Life
Donation protected
I am not even sure where to begin, but I know I cannot do this without you.
[Apologies for the length, being brief can be beyond unbearable when things like this are so pressing.]
One year ago today, the 15th of August, I found myself somewhere I never imagined. On that day I was beaten unconscious, drugged repeatedly with methamphetamine and GHB, and raped by two assailants for over two hours until an attentive hero alerted police. Wrapped in a blanket soaked in my own blood and desperately attempting to form any coherent picture in my mind, I knew this would haunt me. The frequency of which, I had never predicted.
Three surgeries (with two still to come (explained below)), multiple rape counselors, violence recovery teams, therapy, psychiatry, grand juries, having to repeat the details I can recall so many times; I have been left in a quite humiliating state—not only due directly to the attack—but because I have exhausted all resources. In so being, I have turned here hoping to pick myself back up and return and return to my passions, my startup & index of projects, school; stability.
I should also add that I have Lupus SLE and take a number of medications and see a handful of specialists regularly. What was done to me during the attack could have killed me. I still wince knowing I was on these medications when I was unconsciously drugged quite likely should have killed me.
Every day I am bombarded with reminders, and that subsequently reminds me of the epic series of misfortunes I have fought through throughout my life. I should be proud, but I am not.
I am exhausted.
I feel as if I am traveling upon a Mobius strip of intertwined catch-22s. Something like Murphy’s Law mutating from a ball & chain to a relentless parasite. All I know now is deep unforgiving depression and sleeplessness.
In the last four years alone, I have been twice robbed, battled colorectal cancer, left school, put my startup on indefinite hold, have been under such duress I haven’t been able to return to even a side job, and this is only a hint of what I have been through. Please excuse me if I sound like I am whining--It is not my intention. Putting this into words and out to strangers and asking for help is utterly humiliating.
Just last month I was diagnosed with an enlarged left atrium which may require a pacemaker.
I am 30 years old. This is where I am.
I urge you to share this wherever you can, I am drowning in this and I need as much assistance as possible. #LifeofTristan
I will be homeless at the end of this month as I have no income and cannot afford to move and rent elsewhere. I cannot do this alone and I am petrified of what will happen if I do not find a solution. I owe two different roommates $15,000 and $10,000 respectively, in back-rent. Rates are unbelievably high in the Boston area.
My priority medical expenses combined are somewhere between $20-30,000: the remaining surgeries from the attack and urgent periodontal work are not covered by MassHealth because the two are “cosmetic” and the other is simply not covered whatsoever so I must pay out-of-pocket. Even affording a transit pass on a regular basis to get to every appointment, et al, is difficult.
Going back to school, Harvard Extension School would require a minimum of $15,000.
During this time I’ve lost the overwhelming majority of my workshop, tools, and completed projects (wood, metal, stained glass) to an auction of a storage unit. I cannot afford to replace them, which had given me a healthy passive income prior to all of this. I would be understating if I were to say this truly saddens me.
I am selling nearly everything I own here, including items I never wanted to let go of. This has not been as fruitful or as expedient as I had anticipated. Since moving here in January of 2014, my belongings were never shipped as promised and sit in storage at risk of loss to other possible auctions, including my nearly three-hundred volume library.
I have never been unable to afford returning to Chicagoland to retrieve my things or even to visit my grandmother and her twin sister, in their late 80s. I’m afraid I will not see them again until they pass.
Thinking about telling you this has me anxious and shaking.
Even regular expenses; mobile phone, transit, shoes/wardrobe, food, co-pays, basic needs—living expenses, etcetera, I cannot at all afford. I would love nothing more than to return to stability and shed the immense pressure that has been bearing down on me.
I plan to conscientiously distribute donations to living/housing, medical, and university, as these are paramount.
Should I be honored to have the opportunity to move beyond that, I will direct funds towards visiting my grandmother & great aunt, shipping my belongings, to my stalled startup and its needs, replacing workshop tools/equipment/supplies, and starting over again, in a far better place, and all thanks to your kindness.
When I add all of it together, the total hovers between a staggering $150,000 and $175,000. I am not asking for nor expecting that. I am far more concerned with the present urgent situation regarding housing and living expenses, and immediate medical costs.
Throughout I will keep you apprised of my progress and with hope & prayer I would like to give back to you any way I can, be it tangible or digital, your choice. I welcome any questions, thoughts, conversation. I am forever grateful to you, none-the-less.
With all Humility & Appreciation,
Tristan Spencer DeWolfe
[Apologies for the length, being brief can be beyond unbearable when things like this are so pressing.]
One year ago today, the 15th of August, I found myself somewhere I never imagined. On that day I was beaten unconscious, drugged repeatedly with methamphetamine and GHB, and raped by two assailants for over two hours until an attentive hero alerted police. Wrapped in a blanket soaked in my own blood and desperately attempting to form any coherent picture in my mind, I knew this would haunt me. The frequency of which, I had never predicted.
Three surgeries (with two still to come (explained below)), multiple rape counselors, violence recovery teams, therapy, psychiatry, grand juries, having to repeat the details I can recall so many times; I have been left in a quite humiliating state—not only due directly to the attack—but because I have exhausted all resources. In so being, I have turned here hoping to pick myself back up and return and return to my passions, my startup & index of projects, school; stability.
I should also add that I have Lupus SLE and take a number of medications and see a handful of specialists regularly. What was done to me during the attack could have killed me. I still wince knowing I was on these medications when I was unconsciously drugged quite likely should have killed me.
Every day I am bombarded with reminders, and that subsequently reminds me of the epic series of misfortunes I have fought through throughout my life. I should be proud, but I am not.
I am exhausted.
I feel as if I am traveling upon a Mobius strip of intertwined catch-22s. Something like Murphy’s Law mutating from a ball & chain to a relentless parasite. All I know now is deep unforgiving depression and sleeplessness.
In the last four years alone, I have been twice robbed, battled colorectal cancer, left school, put my startup on indefinite hold, have been under such duress I haven’t been able to return to even a side job, and this is only a hint of what I have been through. Please excuse me if I sound like I am whining--It is not my intention. Putting this into words and out to strangers and asking for help is utterly humiliating.
Just last month I was diagnosed with an enlarged left atrium which may require a pacemaker.
I am 30 years old. This is where I am.
I urge you to share this wherever you can, I am drowning in this and I need as much assistance as possible. #LifeofTristan
I will be homeless at the end of this month as I have no income and cannot afford to move and rent elsewhere. I cannot do this alone and I am petrified of what will happen if I do not find a solution. I owe two different roommates $15,000 and $10,000 respectively, in back-rent. Rates are unbelievably high in the Boston area.
My priority medical expenses combined are somewhere between $20-30,000: the remaining surgeries from the attack and urgent periodontal work are not covered by MassHealth because the two are “cosmetic” and the other is simply not covered whatsoever so I must pay out-of-pocket. Even affording a transit pass on a regular basis to get to every appointment, et al, is difficult.
Going back to school, Harvard Extension School would require a minimum of $15,000.
During this time I’ve lost the overwhelming majority of my workshop, tools, and completed projects (wood, metal, stained glass) to an auction of a storage unit. I cannot afford to replace them, which had given me a healthy passive income prior to all of this. I would be understating if I were to say this truly saddens me.
I am selling nearly everything I own here, including items I never wanted to let go of. This has not been as fruitful or as expedient as I had anticipated. Since moving here in January of 2014, my belongings were never shipped as promised and sit in storage at risk of loss to other possible auctions, including my nearly three-hundred volume library.
I have never been unable to afford returning to Chicagoland to retrieve my things or even to visit my grandmother and her twin sister, in their late 80s. I’m afraid I will not see them again until they pass.
Thinking about telling you this has me anxious and shaking.
Even regular expenses; mobile phone, transit, shoes/wardrobe, food, co-pays, basic needs—living expenses, etcetera, I cannot at all afford. I would love nothing more than to return to stability and shed the immense pressure that has been bearing down on me.
I plan to conscientiously distribute donations to living/housing, medical, and university, as these are paramount.
Should I be honored to have the opportunity to move beyond that, I will direct funds towards visiting my grandmother & great aunt, shipping my belongings, to my stalled startup and its needs, replacing workshop tools/equipment/supplies, and starting over again, in a far better place, and all thanks to your kindness.
When I add all of it together, the total hovers between a staggering $150,000 and $175,000. I am not asking for nor expecting that. I am far more concerned with the present urgent situation regarding housing and living expenses, and immediate medical costs.
Throughout I will keep you apprised of my progress and with hope & prayer I would like to give back to you any way I can, be it tangible or digital, your choice. I welcome any questions, thoughts, conversation. I am forever grateful to you, none-the-less.
With all Humility & Appreciation,
Tristan Spencer DeWolfe
Organizer
Tristan Spencer DeWolfe
Organizer
Somerville, MA
