Hi, my name is Kish Gadson.

I never thought i would be in a place where i needed to ask for help like this… but life has a way of humbling you in ways you can’t always prepare for.

There’s a kind of strength people expect you to carry quietly.

The kind where you smile through the pain, adjust, adapt, and keep going no matter how heavy things get.

I tried to be that person.

But the truth is some battles don’t stay quiet.

I live with invisible illnesses

Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS) and Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) conditions that don’t just affect my body, but every part of my daily life.

With POTS…

I experience fainting episodes daily.

Something as simple as standing up can cause my body to shut down without warning.

One moment im trying to move forward, the next…

I lose my vision and my hearing then everything goes black and im unconscious..

Sometimes there is no countdown.

No time to prepare.

Just the constant awareness that at any moment, I could lose control of my own body.

With FND…

I suffer from daily seizures episodes that are not only physically exhausting, but emotionally overwhelming and unpredictable.

They take pieces of me with them every time they take…

My energy.

My stability.

My sense of safety in my own body.

And when it’s over… I’m left trying to gather myself again, like nothing happened even though everything did.

Some days, even the simplest things feel like mountains.

Standing too long.

Moving too fast.

Trying to get through what most people would call a “normal” day…

can leave me drained, dizzy, unable to walk, unable to talk, unable to function the way i wish i could.

There are moments where i feel trapped between who i am and what my body will allow me to be.

And that’s one of the hardest parts.

Because i am still me.

I still have dreams.

I still have purpose.

I still have a heart that wants to give, to love, to show up for others.

But my reality doesn’t always match my will.

And that disconnect…

it hurts.

But even in the middle of all of this…

I’m still trying.

I’m still fighting to live, to be present, and to hold onto the pieces of myself that refuse to be taken by this.

One of those pieces is my heart for others especially animals and people in crisis.

Even when i don’t feel my strongest…

I still care deeply.

I still want to help.

I still want to make a difference in whatever way i can.

Because pain has a way of making you more aware of other people’s pain.

And i never want to lose that part of me.

This journey hasn’t just been physical

it’s emotional, financial, and deeply personal.

There are days where the weight of it all feels like too much.

Where the uncertainty, the medical needs, and the constant adjustments make it hard to feel stable.

Medical expenses continue to grow.

Daily needs don’t stop.

And living with conditions that are unpredictable means planning anything even basic life becomes a challenge.

I’m doing everything i can to stay afloat..

I push through when i can.

I rest when i have to.

I adapt, I adjust and i keep going…

But right now…

I can’t do it alone.

And that’s one of the hardest things for me to admit.

Because asking for help feels vulnerable.

It feels like exposing the parts of your life you usually try to hold together in private.

But i have learned that strength isn’t just about holding everything by yourself…

Sometimes, strength is allowing people to hold you too.

That’s why im here.

Your support whether it’s a donation

a share, or even just a kind word means more than i can fully put into words.

It helps me continue treatment.

It helps me manage daily life.

It helps give me a chance to keep fighting for a future where i can stand a little stronger than i do today.

Not perfect.

Not fixed.

But stronger.

More stable.

More able to live the life im fighting for.

I’m not giving up.

Even on the hardest days… I’m still here.

Still hoping.

Still pushing.

Still believing that things can get better, even if progress is slow.

I’m just asking for a little help while i keep going.

Thank you…

for seeing me.

for hearing me.

for taking a moment to understand what this life looks like behind the words.

And thank you for being part of my journey in any way you can.

Kish