Hey family,

I’ve never been good at asking for help. But pride won’t keep the lights on and shame doesn’t pay the landlord. So here I am, palms up, telling the truth.

The Situation

I’m waiting on my disability benefits. The paperwork’s stamped, the doctors signed off, but the government clock ticks slow while real life bills pile fast. Rent. Power. Prescriptions. Groceries. They’re all past due or hanging by a thread.

Total gap to keep my head above water: $5,000.

That number isn’t random. It’s the exact math of the next two months of survival:

Bill Amount Note

Rent (2 months) $2,000 Keeps a roof over me and my daughter

Utilities & Internet $600 Lights, heat, and the line I write on

Groceries $800 Basics. Nothing fancy.

Medical co-pays & meds $700 Pain management & seizure control

Gas / transportation $300 Appointments & Mia’s school runs

Cushion for late fees / surprises $600 Because life never shows up on time

I’m not asking for a new car or a vacation. I’m asking for breathing room—so when the disability check finally lands, I’m not already drowning.

Why It Matters

You’ve read my stuff on Substack—Quiet Hero Chronicles, SHARDS. You know the deal: addiction, prison, fatherhood, redemption. I clawed out of that hole. Built a life worth protecting. And now a busted spine and neuropathy have me benched.

Writing is what keeps me sane—and what keeps other folks seen. If I’m busy fighting shut-off notices, there’s no ink left for the stories that save us. Your help doesn’t just keep my lights on; it keeps the words flowing for everyone who leans on them.

Where Your Money Goes

Bills get paid the day funds clear.

Receipts posted in campaign updates. Total transparency.

Any leftover pennies roll straight to the next month’s rent if the disability decision drags.

What You Get

I can’t promise fancy perks, but I can promise truth:

A public thank-you on my Substack (unless you’d rather stay silent).

A private update every Friday until the disability hits—wins, losses, numbers.

A brand-new essay, “Grace on Credit,” emailed exclusively to donors once we hit the goal