If I Wrote My Eulogy, It Might Look Something Like This
For the 1st 30 years of my life, the closest I ever got to suicidal thinking was joking about how I was much more likely to be homicidal than suicidal. That changed after white supremacist workplace harassment hijacked my social work career in 2016, when served with a disciplinary letter that said I was "hired to practice social work, not social justice," as if they could ever be separated.
After a decade of barely surviving those whose words fail to align with their actions, I dream of death much more than I ever dream of life."
Prior to discovering my ex's betrayal in 2024, I assumed I would die by white supremacy, as it felt like I was coming closer to no longer existing with each awful day in the academic-industrial complex.
For weeks, I tried to make sense of what I have now come to reconcile as "evil that passed itself off as a person that I...tried to love," thanks to Nikki Giovanni's brilliant "When I Die" poem, which continues to give me strength in dark times.
For me, part of reckoning with this month of Disability Pride is accepting that July also offers an opportunity for us to honour countless beloved disabled ancestors like Alice Wong, Patty Berne, Tinu Abayomi-Paul, Shafiqah Hudson, Stacey Park Milbern, Ki'tay D. Davidson, Ruby Goorahoo, Audre Lorde, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, etc., knowing my ex's abuse shortens my own life.
Could the average fat brown queer disabled immigrant woman survive being drained of $183,364+ over 6.5 years during cycles of overwork and burnout that further disabled her?"
Growing up with Pappy and Grams' unconditional love, I never indulged in thinking I might be average, but the 1st year white supremacy hijacked my social work career, I read 450+ books, as I worked towards becoming the most committed to anti-oppressive practice for whenever I managed to reclaim my hard-earned career from that bigoted field.
In doing so, I learned from Black and brown writers far more brilliant than me, some of whom died, in part, due to poverty, so I am under no illusion about how life is snuffed out by dire circumstances, as I reckon with my own mortality.
When I still got regularly commissioned by publications to report on stories, I covered how medically assisted deaths are more easily accessible to disabled folx than the resources we need to stay alive, as can be seen from the PDF below, (as TEACH Magazine has since resorted to a paywall in a desperate attempt to stay in existence in the rabid publishing industry):
Unfortunately, over 4 years ago, when I reported on that story to highlight how the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms had NEVER offered "universal human rights" to those of use who are BIPOC, LGBTQIA+, disabled, Palestinian, undocumented, etc., it never occurred to me that I may soon need to resort to a medically assisted death of my own given my inability to afford to exist following white supremacist workplace trauma, COVID-19, gender-based violence (GBV), aging, etc."
To be clear, despite how much I dream of the sweet slumber that I imagine death would offer to my exhausted soul, I continue to attempt to survive all the forces that align against me, sometimes only out of sheer spite.
Especially given that I often cringe over how generative A.i. violates the dead by animating their image, voice, etc., July felt like an opportune time to attempt my 1st hermit crab essay in the form of a eulogy while still here.
Please bear with me, in what I promise will be my 1st and last quote of President Barack Obama, as his speech at the memorial service for former South African President Nelson Mandela on December 10, 2013, stated this:
"It is hard to eulogize any man--to capture in words, not just the facts and the dates that make a life, but the essential truth of a person: their private joys and sorrows, the quiet moments and unique qualities that illuminate someone’s soul."
Given the difficulty of writing a eulogy for any man, I thought it best to save the world the trouble of attempting to capture me in words when few are likely to have the resources to do so at their disposal in quite the way I still might.
Krystal was likely dragged to her death cussing, but still believing in the principle of things, like aligning one's actions with one's words, as that was how she tried to live her own life. If you remember nothing else about her, please never forget that she was most harmed by a man who claimed to love her for 6.5 years while exploiting the fuck out of her attempt at access intimacy with him. Maybe if the $183,364+ he drained her of was not also accompanied by white supremacist workplace trauma, COVID-19, etc., she might have survived beyond the summer of 2026, but the essential truth of Krystal Kavita Jagoo is that Makai Livingstone's unrelenting legacy of lies stole her life."
Our understanding of able-bodied supremacy has been formed in relation to intersecting systems of domination and exploitation. The histories of white supremacy and ableism are, after all, inextricably entwined, both forged in the crucible of colonial conquest and capitalist domination. We cannot comprehend ableism without grasping its interrelations with heteropatriarchy, white supremacy, colonialism, and capitalism, each system co-creating an ideal bodymind built upon the exclusion and elimination of a subjugated “other” from whom profits and status are extracted."
My ex is far from the only person to claim to care about me, only to hurt me galore, as that list includes many, such as a writing group that unjustly suspended me last year after I read this rare piece of fiction that must have hurt the feelings of at least one of its founders who had ghosted me after asking if he could apologize to me for some earlier fuckery of his:
Imagine how pathetic a man must be to resort to an unjust suspension of me from his group after hearing less than 10 minutes of me dragging an unnamed man AFTER HE FUCKING DISRESPECTED ME FOR MULTIPLE MONTHS!🤡
It is not my fault his group rightfully congratulated me on annihilating Fuckboi 2.0 in my fictional writing, so he experienced a social death of sorts, but I will admit that it is exactly the kind of FAFO life ethic to which I aspire with every fibre in my being!🔥
My point is that many failed to do justice to my presence in life, so I have no reason to expect better upon my death, but I can guarantee that if I have the ability to haunt folx after my passing, some will never rest well again! 👀"
Until my (un)timely death knell, I continue to attempt to secure enough paid work to afford to exist without sacrificing my commitment to anti-oppressive practice (as doing so would make life feel much less like worth living for me), which means not aligning with Zionism, generative A.i., or other unethical shit.
Towards that end, I have revamped my virtual store here, so if you have been considering purchasing services from me, please consider this a personal request to invest in this fat brown queer disabled immigrant woman who has devoted her all to being a Disability Justice practitioner for the last decade.
Given interest in a make-up session of the Access as Love workshop from March that honoured the legacy of the late Alice Wong, I am hosting that for this month of Disability Pride, at 7-9pm EST on Saturday, July 25, 2026.
Depending on when you read this, I may have already resorted to a medically assisted death given my inability to survive Makai Livingstone's Access Intimacy Abuse, so if able to help me avoid that outcome, please do so below.
If able to contribute to my survival following my ex's financial abuse of at least $183,364, which further disabled me, alongside white supremacist workplace trauma, e-transfers within "Canada" may be sent to krystaljagoo@gmail.com and funds may be sent via PayPal below, so please consider supporting me!🙏🏾
BTW, on the off chance that you are looking for a gifted equity practitioner and educator for virtual services like writing, facilitation, and consulting, you are welcome to peruse my CV below, and explore paid services here.
Please consider sharing this newsletter to amplify the reach of my work!🙏🏾
Post a comment