feelin unreal

My mother’s condition is getting worse, and with every passing day I feel more terrified that I may lose her before we can save her.

Her enlarged thyroid is making breathing difficult, and even simple moments now seem exhausting and painful for her.

The doctors told us she urgently needs treatment and surgery, but we are standing helpless in front of costs we cannot manage.

I try to stay strong, but inside me there is only fear.

Please, do not let me watch my mother slip away while I can do nothing.

Any support could help save her life.

The hardest part is watching my child suffer while I can’t always afford the medicine or the things he needs. As a parent, feeling helpless in front of your child’s pain is something that breaks the heart.

I’m doing everything I can to get back on my feet, but right now I truly need help. Even a small donation or sharing this message could make a real difference for us.

Thank you to anyone who chooses to stand with us during this difficult time. 💙

Please help my daughter's sweetheart alleviate her suffering.

Because of the tent life and the spread of infectious diseases and many epidemics, she deserves a better life like other children; she has the right to play and study.

We cannot afford to buy medicine due to our difficult living conditions. Please save my daughter; every donation makes a difference in Habiba's life.

Approved by:

@gazavetters

Hello, I'm Lama... My husband, Mohammed, is 30 years old. I want to ask for your help for my husband. Please support him and share his story so that it reaches everyone.🙏

My husband, Mohammed, has suffered from numerous health problems for 12 years, and the situation has worsened during the war due to shortages of medicine and healthy food. He urgently needs surgery and medication.😔

The costs of treatment and medication are very high; please, every donation from you will contribute to his recovery.

Please help my husband, donate to him, and share his story so he can recover and get the medicine.

Every donation, no matter how small—10, 25, 50, 100$...—will contribute to improving his health.

My name is Najah.

I am not just a number in a medical report, nor just another patient in a hospital room.

I am a girl with dreams, a mother waiting for my recovery, and a home waiting for me to return

Today, I'm writing to you with a tired hand - but my hope is not tired

The doctors confirmed that my treatment is possible and that my condition can improve...

But time is not unlimited, and support is the difference

Just imagine for a moment:

70 people.

70 hearts.

7O simple decisions to give💔

Only $5 from each person

An amount you might not even notice in your daily lirfe...

But here, in this bed,

it is a new heartbeat, a chance to stand again, the beginning of healing💔🥺

The pain is hard...

The waiting is harder..

But the hardest part is knowing survival is close, yet still needs one small step🙏

I'm not asking one person to carry everything alone.

Just 70 small life🥺❤️

people who believe acts, when combined.

that create

With your support, I can rise,

With your support, I can return to my dreams.

With your support, my name - Najah - can truly become "success" 6

Please don't scroll past in silence💔

Share. Donate. Be one of the seventy

You might be the one who completes the hope.🙏

Najah , her mother, will not forget your silence, and she will not forgive a heart that didn't move, or a hand that didn't reach outEvery donation, every share, every word of support... could be the difference between life and death for Najah

She is suffering from a severe calcium and iron deficiency... her body is weak, and her life hangs between hope and danger.

Treatment, vitamins, and nutrients can save her

Every donation, every share, every word of support... could be the difference between life and death for her

Donate now and give Najah a chance at life!

Campaign verified:

@gazavetters (629)

@90-ghost

@el-shab-hussein.

Help us before it's too late. Your support could save lives.

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Without this treatment, death is not a possibility—it is inevitable.

She is growing weaker day by day, and we cannot do this alone.

Just $10 from 50 people could help save her life.

It may seem like a small amount, but for Najah, it is the difference between life and death.

FORGIVE ME AND DON’T FORGET ME.

The first is a photo of a woman, Harpy, standing outside in a forest of trees without leaves. She has long brown hair and wears a black overcoat and gloves.

The rest of the images are screenshots of her poem. It reads:

Every girl like me I know feels like she was born with an expiration date, like there's a number stamped on her forehead that says "26 years old" that says "six months after the money runs out" that says "when you can't do this anymore" that says "as soon as you work up the courage," and I'm one of the lucky ones, because that scares me, Sometimes I think I have an immigrant's patriotism for this world, because it took me 20 years to decide that I wanted to live in it. Maybe that's what hope is.

But I don't know how to say that the greatest poet I know and her girlfriend, who looks so like me she nearly made my mom faint when she opened the door, are probably not going to last another year. So everybody told me to vote for Bernie Sanders. It's not enough.

Now people are saying this might be the end times, but I want to remind them that we have already been living in them, for as long as I can remember, and I don't know why it's so hard to keep in contact with someone I don't see, to reach out across that burden of distance with the uncertain arms of exhaustion, but I know why it's hard to reassure somebody, when all you can say is "I'm scared, too." How much money do you give somebody, when money is the thing you don't have? For time, same question.

A trans woman I had never met came into my shop one day and pointed me out to her friend, she said "you are my sister," and I said "yes, I am." So when I saw one of my sisters out on the street with a slice of cardboard, I brought her a bottle of water and all the cash I had in my wallet, because afterward I couldn't stop crying for six hours, and I don't think anybody asked me why.

Maybe this is why there are so few things that feel important to me anymore. I said "the only things people like me make are cries for help" and I got 128 reblogs. Apparently, some people find that relatable.

A lot of people have told me that I'm the most optimistic person they know, and I don't tell them that I have to be, I take it as a compliment.

The thing they don't tell you about hope is that it's cyclical, it needs to be refreshed every single day, Hope is just like every other kind of work you do on your body. So what does a story mean, to that? What can a poem mean, to that? I abhor maintenance. I don't want to have to say anything anymore, I want to walk to the place where all my words are done, And build a home there. It's not enough. All your pleas and all your promises, your fights and feats and failures, are not and never will be enough. Not for us. This world was not made for us.

So let's build a better one. Let's start right here, right now, just us, not with a kiss or a fist but just you and me pledging to not let go no matter what comes, deciding even when the love is gone that we're not gonna let each other drown anymore. So I want to offer my hand, to every girl like me who needs it, and walk with you into a place beyond these empires, a place that doesn't exist yet. And that, I hope, is enough. Because that's...everything.

Oooh I should share this here! I have a Black Comic Creators masterlist I've been compiling since 2020 that I continue to update!

→→ LINK ←←

Please donate now. Your help could save my baby before it is too late.