Home(less) for the Holidays

My name is Anié and I am a Food Systems, Policy, and Justice Agvocate.

Since returning from working on the Farm Bill in Washington D.C. in 2018, my life has taken some very unexpected turns.

As a result, I find myself faced with losing everything and being forced to turn to a shelter or out onto the streets.

This fundraiser is just for the bare minimums needed to get through the next month.

Housing- $950

Water- $100

Electricity- $200

Heat(gas)-$150

Cat Food & Litter(3 cats)-$300

Phone & Internet- $250

Food-$300

Household Supplies-$100

Gas(car)-$100

*This doesn’t include any personal expenses like clothes or shoes, further emergencies, or luxuries *

—This is how I got here. *Trigger Warning* This may be difficult for many to read. Trust me when I say, living it has been worse. —

I met someone and we started dating February 2019. By the end of the year, he asked me to move in with him. I explained that I would not give up my security and safety unless it was for a lifetime commitment and to build a life together. So, for our 1 year anniversary, his parents flew us down to spend a few days in Florida with them before I kicked off a month of travel and conferences.

While there, he proposed and I accepted.

As I crisscrossed the country, reviewing grants, representing our region at conferences, and even working on the Oprah WW tour, I was on Cloud 9, filled with excitement and joy.

Everything was coming together seamlessly, between my relationships throughout the hospitality and service sector, and his friends and family connections.

And then Covid hit. Lockdown and isolation.

He insisted that it made no sense for me to keep my place until we were married, as I had intended. Why pay to be locked down in two separate places when we were getting married anyway? After much hesitation and many discussions, I relented and we started to move my stuff in.

The rest of 2020 was a jumble of protest support, political campaigning, emergency food delivering, and numerous medical appointments and procedures to determine if I would need chemotherapy or just surgery.

On Nov 4 2020, I was on the ballot as a candidate for County Council At-Large and on the operating table. Later that same day, I was giving an interview about running for office, before I even removed my hospital bracelet.

Over the next two months until our wedding day on NYE, I struggled to manage preparations while severely restricted from the surgery. Unbeknownst to me at the time, there were several issues with the surgery and I was developing a massive infection, deep within the site.

If my life was a rollercoaster, this was the point when you’re nearing the ‘big drop’.

After the wedding, I spent most of January at the doctors office, where they removed significant amounts of infection every few days, while I was place on several rounds of antibiotic treatment.

Things seemed to be improving by the end of January and we got two great pieces of news - I was hired as the Inaugural NorthEast Region Urban Soil Health Specialist and we were expecting!

Once again, I was filled with joy and optimism.

But things were not all rainbows and sunshine.

Covid was continuing to wreak havoc with the world, our new Old home had more than a few challenges, and my husband had lost his job in October 2020, just days before my surgery. We were doing better than most, but I could tell that he was struggling with things.

I tried to distract him with plans for the future, encouraged him to spend more time with his friends and his Little Brother(BBBS), shared lots of job opportunities for him to consider, asked his family and friends for advice, and tried to get him to consider couples therapy.

He refused and when I mentioned anything when we were with family, he would get upset and refuse to respond.

I was excited about my new position and hoped that the additional income would relieve some of the strain and tension, but it didn’t.

Then, just a week or so before the first ultrasound, the unimaginable happened.

I woke up in severe pain, and thought it might be constipation. But after an hour or so, it was becoming unbearable, so I woke him and we went to the hospital.

 They performed several blood tests and two internal ultrasounds over the next couple hours, and by 10am, they confirmed my worst fears. The pregnancy had been ectopic and had ruptured. I was hemorrhaging internally and would need emergency surgery. 

Almost two hours later, they finally take me into surgery. I’m not certain how I survived, especially once I saw the images from the surgery.

After the loss, I tried to keep going. Trying to stay busy and hoping that would keep me from collapsing with grief.

Meanwhile, my husband was planning a weeklong road trip and vacation.

Not with me though.

With his group of high school buddies.

Even though we never got to go on a Honeymoon.

Even though he still wasn’t working.

Even though I begged him for just a weekend away for the two of us.

‘He’s had a tough year and really needs a break’ is what his family told me when I asked them for help and support.

I was far from happy, but I came home alone from a couple days with the whole family, to go back to work, get the dog from the kennel, and tackle the growing list of repairs and projects around the house.

While he was gone, I struggled with overwhelming depression, loneliness, and despair and called the support hotline. When I told my husband he brushed it off. While he was gone, he needed money and I sent him most of my paycheck.

When he got back, he was more frustrated than ever with the clutter and disorganization and said he was going to stay at his parents house until the bedroom was finished.

The next time he came by, he said he couldn’t tolerate the mess and he no longer wanted to be married.

he told me that I had ‘Three weeks to get your shit and get out of my house’ or he was going to call the cops and have them drag me out.

I spent the next several months trying to find some way to get him to talk to me, or anyone, about what was going on, but he continued to refuse. 

After several months of juggling everything, I had a breakdown. 

I had watched as my next door neighbor and my immediate supervisor both successfully carried to term. We were all due at the same time, in October.

That’s when I was informed that I would have to go through the imaging and biopsy procedures again, before the surgery could be repaired.

Unfortunately, my employer was unwilling to accommodate my request for additional time off and offered me ‘separation’ instead.

In March of 2022, the cancer and plastic surgery team’s successfully removed a significant amount of tissue and hopefully that will have resolved the issue.

Unfortunately, my body and systems have been wrecked by the trauma and surgeries.

In addition to the ÂûDHD, allergies, asthma, C-PTSD, etc, I have also been diagnosed with Apnea, Excessive Daytime Sleepiness (EDS), and narcoleptic episodes.

Despite of all of this, I have continued to be highly engaged in my community, policy and advocacy efforts, and developing relationships with my neighbors.

I am in the consideration for an incredible opportunity, but the competition is steep- over 600 other candidates, and the process started in October and will not be decided until after the new year.

In the meantime, I’m facing and experiencing suspension or disconnection of critical resources and failure to make payments will result in the court ruling that I immediately vacate the only home I have.

Making this fundraiser hasn’t been easy and I’ve put it off for as long as I possibly can, but I’ve run out of options and time. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

In Service,

Anié