Single Mom Needs Help
Donation protected
I had an abusive childhood and after surviving a string of abusive relationships as an adult, I don't usually trust anyone enough to really ask for help, and I don't like putting too much of my personal life into the world. So much of it, I'm ashamed of or embarrassed about, especially as I'm trying to build a public platform as an author - but my family is in an emergency right now, and I just don't know what else to do. So even though I blog multiple times a week and I've written and published eight novels in the last five years ... here's the story I'm not telling.
When I wrote my first novel, I was living with my long-term boyfriend, a stay-home mom to our two kids, and I was proud of myself for finally doing something I had wanted to do all my life. Something for me. When the first book took off and started selling, I got excited and wrote the second a month later. But over the course of that year, as I churned out stories and began to build a platform online as an author, some things in my life were NOT changing for the better. As I built a small following and began to build a small income of my own for the first time in years, my relationship took a strong turn for the worst. I don't know if it was because writing took a lot of my time and he felt neglected, or if it was because his pride was threatened by my having an income he couldn't control, however small it was (I never even made $100 in a single month). I published my first novel in December 2012, and by April 2014, he had stopped paying the bills for our family and we were evicted from our apartment. I had no job, no vehicle of my own, and two kids that were counting on me to figure out ... something. I also had no GED or other formal education.
We moved, together as a family, in with his mother. At the time, we were officially broken up - but living together gave us space to see each other from time to time. I liked that it meant our kids didn't feel like they'd lost their home AND their dad, and they got to see their grandmother all the time, and I used those good points to keep myself going despite the humiliation of having to live with family that wasn't mine. I pretended I didn't notice how affected my mental health was, and how much the situation at that time brought back unpleasant memories from my childhood.
We tried to work things out, but some things there are just no coming back from, and in the fall of 2016, he decided he had had enough of family life. He moved out, leaving me to deal with the kids (and their multitude of health problems) alone while he went through a string of friends, girlfriends, and jobs. Slowly, he stopped giving me any money to help with the kids, to keep our therapy dog fed and vetted, etc. Fortunately, I had a little money set back to carry me (I had been expecting this turn of events), a small income from my writing, and plans to get a job. But when I lost my ability to write much, became suicidal enough to scare myself, and started having panic attacks almost daily, I went into therapy and was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, and severe anxiety in 2016. PMDD was added to my diagnoses in 2017. I can't work now, some days I can barely function to write, at home in the only place that passes for a safe zone (my kids and I still live with the family we originally moved in with).
In the meantime, I've managed to purchase a cheap used van, but the transmission is going out, it has multiple fluid leaks I can't afford to fix, and ... well I'm pretty much stuck. I'm currently in the process of applying for disability, and am awaiting a hearing that I'm told could take up to eighteen months to take place. The holidays are coming, the situation for my family looks just about hopeless at the moment, I can't even put gas in my van to attend a doctor's appointment for myself (which is about 40 minutes away from where we live, and that was the closest doctor I could find), and the whole situation is slowly destroying the faith that has kept me going all this time.
It's impacting my health now, too - my blood pressure is up, my IBS is out of control, my hair is falling out, even my skin and my cycles are affected. I just need some help to carry me through until time and consistent effort to improve things can straighten my life out.
In the meantime, I'm still blogging because it's therapy (I also attend actual therapy weekly), and I'm still trying to write when I can manage it. I'm still trying to sell my books to grow an income (which is 60 days delayed) while I wait what feels like an endless amount of time for disability. And I'm even opening my writing up to people who want to donate on a monthly basis as another way to try to build an independent income.
But I need money right now today, and I don't know where else to turn.
When I wrote my first novel, I was living with my long-term boyfriend, a stay-home mom to our two kids, and I was proud of myself for finally doing something I had wanted to do all my life. Something for me. When the first book took off and started selling, I got excited and wrote the second a month later. But over the course of that year, as I churned out stories and began to build a platform online as an author, some things in my life were NOT changing for the better. As I built a small following and began to build a small income of my own for the first time in years, my relationship took a strong turn for the worst. I don't know if it was because writing took a lot of my time and he felt neglected, or if it was because his pride was threatened by my having an income he couldn't control, however small it was (I never even made $100 in a single month). I published my first novel in December 2012, and by April 2014, he had stopped paying the bills for our family and we were evicted from our apartment. I had no job, no vehicle of my own, and two kids that were counting on me to figure out ... something. I also had no GED or other formal education.
We moved, together as a family, in with his mother. At the time, we were officially broken up - but living together gave us space to see each other from time to time. I liked that it meant our kids didn't feel like they'd lost their home AND their dad, and they got to see their grandmother all the time, and I used those good points to keep myself going despite the humiliation of having to live with family that wasn't mine. I pretended I didn't notice how affected my mental health was, and how much the situation at that time brought back unpleasant memories from my childhood.
We tried to work things out, but some things there are just no coming back from, and in the fall of 2016, he decided he had had enough of family life. He moved out, leaving me to deal with the kids (and their multitude of health problems) alone while he went through a string of friends, girlfriends, and jobs. Slowly, he stopped giving me any money to help with the kids, to keep our therapy dog fed and vetted, etc. Fortunately, I had a little money set back to carry me (I had been expecting this turn of events), a small income from my writing, and plans to get a job. But when I lost my ability to write much, became suicidal enough to scare myself, and started having panic attacks almost daily, I went into therapy and was diagnosed with PTSD, depression, and severe anxiety in 2016. PMDD was added to my diagnoses in 2017. I can't work now, some days I can barely function to write, at home in the only place that passes for a safe zone (my kids and I still live with the family we originally moved in with).
In the meantime, I've managed to purchase a cheap used van, but the transmission is going out, it has multiple fluid leaks I can't afford to fix, and ... well I'm pretty much stuck. I'm currently in the process of applying for disability, and am awaiting a hearing that I'm told could take up to eighteen months to take place. The holidays are coming, the situation for my family looks just about hopeless at the moment, I can't even put gas in my van to attend a doctor's appointment for myself (which is about 40 minutes away from where we live, and that was the closest doctor I could find), and the whole situation is slowly destroying the faith that has kept me going all this time.
It's impacting my health now, too - my blood pressure is up, my IBS is out of control, my hair is falling out, even my skin and my cycles are affected. I just need some help to carry me through until time and consistent effort to improve things can straighten my life out.
In the meantime, I'm still blogging because it's therapy (I also attend actual therapy weekly), and I'm still trying to write when I can manage it. I'm still trying to sell my books to grow an income (which is 60 days delayed) while I wait what feels like an endless amount of time for disability. And I'm even opening my writing up to people who want to donate on a monthly basis as another way to try to build an independent income.
But I need money right now today, and I don't know where else to turn.
Organizer
Brandi Kennedy
Organizer
Bell Bridge, TN
