On February 13th, 2026, I almost died. I survived a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm with only a 5% chance to live. I had been bleeding internally for six hours before they got me on the table at Huntsville Hospital. Eight weeks later I have no income, no insurance, less than $20 in my pocket, and I’m taking the bus downtown tomorrow for the CAT scan to see if the stent is holding.

Help me rise up after this diagnosis and rAAA. This is the full story of how I got here — starting with the late-in-life ADHD and PTSD diagnosis in fall 2024.

For the last two years. I've been surviving on prayer and God's guidance as I've navigated very complex medical conditions that have presented themselves to me.

On February 12th, 2026, I ruptured an abdominal aortic aneurysm (rAAA), I didn't know I had. It had never been diagnosed and it had been ballooning for a very long time. When it ruptured, the pain was something I had never experienced in my life. I bled internally for three hours before I made it to the ER in Madison, Alabama where I sat for another 2-3 hours before a CT scanned confirmed the obvious, life-threatening situation that should have, by all statistics, killed me. The emergency room trauma team did their job. They cut my clothes off, shaved my entire body, and put me in an ambulance and rushed me code 3 to the Level One Trauma Center at Huntsville Hospital. The survival rate for what was experiencing is less than 10%. I survived. Only God knows how.

I woke up. I didn’t know if I was in heaven, or a hospital at first. The first thing I thought about was how close I was — not close to dying, though that too — close to making it.

I am not someone who gave up

I want you to understand— I am not here because I've quit. I am not here because I stopped fighting. I am here because I fought my way back from losing absolutely EVERYTHING, over and over — six weeks before launching a career pivot back into what I love the most, focusing on what I used to do as Garden Design Editor of Southern Living magazine and launching a new land planning and garden design business, my body had other plans, maybe it was God's way of waking me up to be better than ever. Maybe it was his way of guiding me to answer a calling that I've been ignoring for the last 20 years since I left the editorial staff at Souther Living.

In 2024 I lost my job. I was in treatment for life-long depression and compounding anxiety that never went away and didn’t know why. I now know why. I received a late-in-life diagnosis of ADHD and PTSD that explained decades of struggles that I had been dealing with but didn't know how to explain it to anyone. It came too late to stop what had already fallen apart. A few months after that, I was robbed of my legal and online identity, stolen, as if I did’t exist — every device I owned was taken, phone, iPad Pro, laptop, all gone with no transportation. I was evicted from my Nashville townhouse next to the music studios in Nashville’s 8th ave South neighborhood known as one of the creative hubs of music city. I watched roughly $50,000 worth of my creative studio gear, furniture, clothes, all my kitchen and BBQ belongs, put out in the alleyway around 5:30pm, ahead of a freezing 30-degree night. To say I was in shock, doesn’t describe what was going on with me. Time stood still. I was numb and I realized I was homeless: with no where to go, no one I could call. I was alone in a way that can't be described. My landlord knew I had been under the care of a medical team and had expressed his understanding and that he would work with me as long as it took. I had not missed rent payments prior to missing my first rent payment, even during months of not working or having any meaningful income. I was living off savings and selling personal possessions and even letting my vehicle go. When the landlord evicted me, he said, “he was a business man and had to do what he had to do.” He didn’t however, support my need to reschedule the hearing for the eviction I was still being treated and had no way to get to the hearing, due to ongoing medical treatment. The court was not sympathetic or empathetic to my situation and refused to grant a continuance and I never heard back from the landlord or the courts until the day of eviction.

After one night on the street of Nashville’s 8th Ave. South neighborhood in freezing weather, I came back the next day. All my possessions were gone, stolen, taken off, or disposed of, and I was not surprised, with the homeless situation in Nashville. I know because I had helped many of them as they were dumpster diving in our dumpster outside my townhouse. The things that were missing didn't matter anymore. Whoever took my things needed them more than me and were just trying to survive life and the streets: All my belongings that I had worked so hard for over the years… were simply gone.

After two weeks in a temporary shelter provided by an angel that I knew from a songwriting session in the neighborhood, I made my way to Cleveland, Tennessee, on the promise of a position with a ministry there, I ended up in a shelter, owned by the City of Cleveland, TN. It full of people fighting addictions that I knew a lot about from my days, earlier in life as a tactical street narcotics officer for the city of Decatur, AL in my early 20's. Substance addiction has never been part of my life, and never will be. Daily, I worked hard from the public library. I got back up, made my way to Chattanooga to start a new life in design and consulting. I was so close to a stable future, a real life. It could have played out, living downtown Chattanooga. God had other plans and I grateful for making my way to Huntsville, AL in the middle of December, 2025.

I came to Huntsville, AL to publish and publish my memoir. Huntsville is adjacent to Athens, Limestone County, where I grew up. I reacquired a few of the the “tools of the trade” I needed to work, but only on a shoestring budget, after losing everything again. I built the foundation of a new career. I drafted a the assets to publish the memoir and to offer Garden Design, Land Planning, and other landscape related services, drawing on my past career, as Garden Design Editor for Southern Living magazine, and using the skills and knowledge acquired while prior I was a brand representation for the magazine and Sam's Club, along with all the sponsors for both tours that put me on the road nearly 300 days a year for 10 years, that included time in Memphis running an sales, marketing, and consulting firm as Director of Client Services. My time in Memphis changed me. Something was inside me telling me I was not in the right place in my career.

This past week, through the help of two friends and a very helpful DMV in Huntsville, AL., I received my first valid goverment issued ID, a replacement driver's license to replace the one that was taken from me in Nashville, late in 2024 — it’s the first official ID of any kind, except a birth certificate I obtained through the Alabama health department system and only got that because someone that knew me in that office helped me, when they chose to do the right thing for me. It was God's way of showing me I belonged back in Alabama at the right time.

At age 60 with no ID, no insurance, and no vehicle, I had very few options, still being successfully treated for the ADHD, diagnosis a year earlier. I was days away from the other side of all of this.

Then… my ballooning aorta that I didn’t know I had, ruptured, and everything stopped. Peace be still is a real thing and that’s what I experienced. I asked the Dr.’s if I was going to die. The silence was validation for what I already knew. I accepted that silence and prayed. I prayed for peace. I prayed that my family and friends would understand one day, why I was away and so distant in their lives. I prayed for forgiveness from God and everyone I had ever wronged in my life. I didn’t always make the best decisions in life, but I always had good intentions with a good heart, that, nobody can question, but God. I’m at peace in my life with God, who has finally forgiven me for sins that were know and unknown. That’s the joy and happiness one can live with inside the grace of God.

The loneliness that I’ve endured has been the worst part. No one knew what was going on with me, inside my head and neither did I.

The medical team that diagnosed me with ADHD and PTSD, in the fall of 2024, explained to me, that living with this all my life affected me, my family, and my friends in a way that was truly horrifying and hard to accept, even more difficult to know what to do about it. Therapy, both secular and christian-based, was hard, very hard to work through with no one around to support me. At times, I was impossible to be around. There was just too much to explain and they don’t give you a manual on how to explain to family and friends what has happened, other than to tell people to try and understand something that is so rare at my age, it became impossible with the people that were around me at time. I lost them. I lost all of them. Therapy sessions help me understand the “how & why” part of my life that was so misunderstood by me and others. It taught me that some of my actions and decisions hurt my family, friends, and others that were close to me. My actions, my words, were at times, devastating, however, I never did anything intentionally to hurt anyone, to offend anyone, to do anything, other than do my job, try and take care of myself, and take care of the ones I loved the best way I thought was right. I simply was doing what I thought was best to take care of myself and my responsibilities I had to my family, and my livelihood.

The road I traveled, did me in. Burnout, complete, burnout and deep, dark depression followed. I made ends meet the best I could until I reached out for help, when I landed back in Nashville, after going from Memphis to Orlando to a 1400 acre farm in Livingston, TN., to eventually, landing in the townhouse that I was later evicted from during treatment.

You learn a lot about yourself when you’re homeless, all alone, surrounding by the drugs you used to fight as a young cop on the streets of Decatur, AL. I was just out of college prior to becoming the entrepreneur I became, prior to all notoriety of working for Southern Living magazine, prior to all the cameras, stages in music, brand representation, the tours, the 10 years of traveling full-time because I had committed to fulfill obligations that I believed in... The loneliness is hard to describe.

I need my family back. I need my friends back. I need people in my life again. I need a purpose driven life, as Rick Warren wrote about in his book, "The Purpose Driven Life". I've learned these things about myself through that book in plain sight to me, all along, but never saw it till recently.

The five things I will I will live by the rest of my life.

Currently I have two people in my life that have stood beside me, a 25 year friend who owns a farm, and Henry, my spiritual guide, mentor, and “preacher man” as I call him. They are both pushing 80, and ironically, the age my parents would be if they were still alive. Covid took Mom, and a vehicle accident took my Dad when I was 19 years old, while I was Lipscomb University(formerly David Lipscomb College).

The health systems have largely failed me — but God didn't.

I have no bitterness about that. I have clarity. I've driven by faith.

What I am grateful for — deeply, completely grateful for — are the surgical hands at Huntsville Hospital that repaired my body on February 13th. I prayed going into that operating room, and I woke up on the other side. That is faith. That is real. And that is what has kept me going every single day since.

I have lived through all of this alone. No safety net. No family nearby. No assistance from any government programs, just faith, will, and the faithful belief that the work I was put here to do is my future.

I've been working every day, from a micro-budget, long-term hotel room in Huntsville, with a laptop, no transportation, no insurance, no income, and nothing but a desire to build something that helps people. I have sold off every piece of gear, kitchen items, and clothes, that aren’t necessary that I purchased recently — piece by piece — just to keep a roof over my head and food to eat while I recover. I’ve had medical expenses to pay for without insurance and without any income, without any way to make a living, except behind my computer screen.

I’m a writer, designer, I’m a candidate for obtaining my Registered Landscape Architects’ license issued by the State of Alabama. I will continue to develop my new website, SoulBlueLiving.com, publish my memoir and content to help others, and to offer Garden Design, Land Planning, consulting, and everything I have to offer, to improve outdoor spaces, large and small, to make those spaces more “livable”, and sustainable, through thoughtful design, that invites you outside to enjoy the spaces you never knew you had or could. I'm committed to do this with an eager heart, and a desire to help anyone with their properties, regardless of the size or budgets. I've worked in all of those situations over the 35 years I've been do this. I know I can help. Maybe it’s just a phone call, a zoom call, or a master plan to help the you visualize, “what could be”, or even more exciting, “what will be”. I’ve got service options for everyone.

I am 60 years old. I survived a surgery that kills 9 out of 10 people. And I have spent every day since doing the only thing I know how to do: working toward a future built on sustainable land planning, garden design, and sustainable use of the properties owned by all types of homeowners, developers, and builders. — It is the work I was made for. It’s the work I did for Southern Living and Progressive Farmer. It’s the work I’ve done all over the country. It’s the one meaningful thing I have left to give, and I intend to give it.

But, and I hate using that word(but), I have come up short. No transportation. No insurance. No income. Nothing but the will to keep going — and a deadline standing between me and the street again. I've a few days away from not being able to stay in my current living space, the long-term hotel in Huntsville, AL.

There are many unknowns, ahead of a scheduled CT scan this Tuesday, April 14th to evaluate the success of the stent that implanted. Meanwhile the medical bills are coming in fast and furious with no options at the moment to handle them without overwhelming stress. It's simply hard to keep everything together and keep pushing forward and I AM DETERMINED to survive this once again. I survived a massive heart attack in 2011, the triple by-pass that repaired it, changed my diet, put the cigarettes down and moved forward.

The first one that came two week ago was for $256,000.00 from Huntsville Hospital. Others have followed and will continue to come from two different hospitals. This is just the beginning of what is to come.

Where things stand right now

I am recovering in a long-term budget hotel in Huntsville, Alabama. It is not a safe or stable environment for someone healing from I've been through, it is not suitable for building what I’m building for myself and my future, however, it is what I have managed to hold onto without becoming homeless with no where to go and no one to rely on. I can do this. I’ve took care of myself, by myself over the last 10 years of isolation from family and friends. I am relying on faith, prayer, and God’s guidance to show me the way. It’s the only thing that has saved me to this point.

I have less than $50 in my bank account. I have 2 days to pay my hotel bill

AND to pay my cell phone bill or I lose the cell service, the room — and everything in it, with no where to go.

At 60, years old, I’m not finished with life. I’m not finished helping other, and I love the work I'm doing. It will keep me going for the rest of my life and provide a meaningful life and income. I've got the skills, the background, the training and with desire to do this. The stress of not knowing where I will sleep is not just uncomfortable after what I’ve been through, it is medically dangerous. My body cannot heal under these conditions, and I cannot build anything if I end up back on the street.

What I'm asking for: I am asking for $27,500 — a 6 month runway that covers stable housing, minimal transportation, & basic living expenses, and the right tools I need to to do my job to make my own way again, and work towards what I was already building, before my life got interrupted again on February 13th, 2026.

This is a bridge — from where I am today to where I was already headed — to where I’m going.

I have a transparent budget and I will share it with anyone who asks. I will keep everyone updated on my health and progress with launching by professional platforms to sustain a living.

Within the next few days I am launching SoulBlueLiving.com and a Substack newsletter to launch my memoir, chapter by chapter, to further detail what I’ve been through recently, and eventually my entire life span. As soon as the websites are live, I'll update everyone.

Troy Hardy (Black)

Huntsville, Alabama

***My budget of my ask on this platform is available to anyone that request it. I want to be fully transparent now, and always. All Prayers & Assistance is needed.