👉 you can help directly here:
We're two disabled queer + trans people trying to move out of a crumbling semi-rural Section 8 apartment where we've been dealing with fun things like:
ant infestations (that started in january. in MINNESOTA.)
holes in the ceiling + sagging soft spots that promise more to come
neighbors who literally SWATTED us
and an on-site maintenance person who has seemingly been trying to sabotage us since day one.
She’s accused us of things we didn’t do (like having a dog?? we don’t??), made false reports, and generally made us feel like we’re being constantly watched and punished for existing. I can’t sneeze without her bad vibes leaking in from the other side of the wall.
We've finally secured a new place in through section 8. It's a top-floor apartment in a much calmer, safer environment in an area closer to a major city that will provide access to resources we've been lacking, such as medical treatment. It's genuinely the best place either of us have ever had a chance to live in, and getting there would be fucking life-changing for our health, safety, and survival.
But we need help getting out. We move out by July 31st, 2025, and we need help covering moving costs. That means:
a moving truck and help with furniture (we’re headed to the third floor, bless our spinal columns),
basic moving supplies (tape, boxes, trash bags, etc),
and emergency funds in case something goes sideways (which, spoiler alert: it already has).
Because, OF COURSE, every power-that-be is making this as hard as possible. In just the last week:
I had to beg a county worker not to sit on my income paperwork for 10 days because I literally need to move now,
and Section 8 scheduled our inspection for July 30th—less than 24 hours before our move-out date.
Like. What???? That gave us zero time to plan. If that inspection failed for any reason, we’d be homeless. I had to file a whole disability accommodation just to get them to consider rescheduling. Like “hey if you do this, I might spiral into total crisis and lose all my resources! please don't!” The fact that I had to put that in writing is... bonkers doesn't cover it. I'm waiting on a response and have no idea what things are actually going to look like, despite the apartment approving me. I consent, my landlord consents, Section 8 does not. That's where we're at.
Amidst all this, I'm still trying to function. Last month I had to go to the ER and was prescribed Ativan because my body just said “nope” to eating, sleeping, or doing anything that wasn't vomit bile and stare catatonic at nothing. To top it off, I just got denied SSI—on the basis of a false claim that I had detransitioned, because I have the gall to sometimes go by different names as a queer person with a dissociative disorder. So. Yeah. It’s been a bad time.
AND—because the universe can always kick harder—Trump's "Big Beautiful Bill" is already starting to impact services. If Planned Parenthood loses Medicaid funding, both of us will be completely cut off from our only affordable access to HRT. This move would put us in an area with more clinics that still accept Medicaid, giving us safer backup options if the worst comes to pass.
👉 If you want to help us actually make this move happen:
Helping us would give us a chance to live somewhere stable, quiet, and accessible. It would let us heal. It would let me, as an artist, make things again. I want so badly to just be a neurodivergent queer artist in peace, and this move could finally make that possible. We’re almost there—just need the final push.
Thank you for reading. May your walls be solid and your floors ant-free. 💜