My name is Kashan. My 15-year-old niece, Mya, is my hero. She is the main reason I am alive today.

Now, her life is in crisis, and our family is on the verge of becoming homeless. I am asking—I am begging—for your help.

To be completely and painfully honest, I have struggled deeply with my own mental health in the past, even to the point of attempting suicide. In my darkest moments, I was convinced my life was unbearable and that I had no strength left.

But then I would look at Mya.

I saw this beautiful girl, my niece, fighting every single second of her life. Fighting a body that causes her pain. Fighting a world that doesn't understand her. Fighting a silence she can't break. And yet, she is still here, still fighting.

Her impossible, silent strength forced me to be better. Her struggle made me see how precious and resilient life is. She saved me, plain and simple.

Now, I am desperate to save her.​

I wish I could find the words to help you see the Mya we love, but I also need you to understand the reality we are drowning in. Mya is on the most severe end of the autistic spectrum. Her life is a constant, overwhelming struggle:

She is completely non-verbal. All her pain, her fear, and her needs are trapped inside her.

She injures and hurts herself constantly. As a family, we are helpless to stop it, and it is a living nightmare to watch.

She has hyperphagia, a medical condition that gives her a constant, painful, insatiable hunger.

She doesn't know how to use the bathroom. We are constantly cleaning up human waste. When we can afford diapers, she rips them off.

We get almost no sleep. Her distress and confusion mean she is up most of the night, often destroying everything around her.

Our bad days have now become our only days, and we have nothing left to give. Our family has officially surpassed its limits. We are financially, emotionally, and physically broken.

The constant destruction and noise from Mya's distress mean we are being forced from our home. We are about to be homeless, with nowhere to go that can safely handle her needs.

Our first, most urgent goal is to secure safe, stable housing. We need a place where Mya can be safe, where the walls can be reinforced, and where she won't be thrown out for things she cannot control.

But I am also fighting for more. I am fighting for Mya's right to exist. I want to use this platform to scream for awareness for severe autism and the youth mental health crisis that is being ignored. The system has failed us. We cannot be the only family drowning like this.

Mya showed me that my life was worth fighting for.

Please, help me show her that hers is, too. We are desperate. We have nowhere else to turn. Any amount, any share, is a sign that we are not invisible and that Mya matters.

Please help us.

A Message From Mya's Mom, Tyonna: We Are Drowning

This is Tyonna, Mya's mom. My brother, Kashan, wrote this main Givesendgo story because I simply don't have the emotional capacity left to write it myself right now.

But I need you to hear this directly from me.

I wish I could hide how much we're struggling, but as my brother has said, we've surpassed our limits.

I am a mother who has already had to say goodbye to my first daughter, Isabella, and I am fighting now with every ounce of my soul to save my two girls who are still here, Lexi and Mya.

My sweet Mya, the beautiful girl in the middle of our photo, has needs that are more than my hands can provide. The constant stress is crushing us. I haven't had a proper night's sleep in years, and watching her destroy her environment, or worse, injure herself, is devastating.

My older daughter, Lexi, on the left, helps as much as she can, but no child should have to bear this burden.

We are failing Mya because the support system has collapsed around us, and that is the most painful truth a mother can face.