These might seem like wildly different things at face value, but launching a crowdfunding campaign is exactly like launching a new business. It's not enough to have a donations page for your condition; you need to know how to sell yourself to potential donors (something your mom was pretty good at, or so we've heard). When it comes to crowdfunding, that involves providing constant updates, writing good copy, producing and editing video, promoting your campaign everywhere, and a whole other bunch of skills and connections. This isn't something we dreamt up, by the way. It comes courtesy of Indiegogo, and holy shit, it's so far beyond the abilities of the average healthy and able-bodied person, never mind someone with a long-term, painful, time-and-energy-consuming medical problem. It isn't even funny.
If you're lacking in marketing ability, your best hope is to accidentally go viral by, say, being so terribly ill that not donating is, strictly speaking, a crime against humanity. And that's great if you're suffering from a "faultless" problem like cancer -- you know, something that people can see and know isn't your fault, unlike mental health issues or addiction problems. The internet is good and altruistic and shit, but it's still judgmental.
It's no surprise, then, that only a small number of crowdfunding campaigns succeed -- roughly one in three, most of which are perpetual motion machines. When it comes to medical crowdfunding specifically, however, that success rate plummets to ... 11 percent, roughly one in ten.
If you're fortunate enough to make your goal, the problems don't end there. Although crowdfunded money can help fight off CLL, TB, and LD, it can also cause a case of the horrific condition known as "IRS." Often presenting in the form of an unwelcome audit, there are numerous cases of people receiving money from campaigns, only to have more stress piled on afterward when the IRS starts asking for its cut.