From Surviving to SAFE – PLEASE HELP.

I never imagined I’d be writing something like this. I’m not someone who asks for help — but now, I have no other choice.

For the past five years, I’ve lived in a relationship that has become controlling, abusive, and unsafe. What began as manipulation and emotional control has turned into constant fear — a nightmare that keeps unfolding like another chapter in a story I never wanted to live.

There were times the abuse was physical — moments that left me bloody and bruised, standing in front of a mirror trying to cover up a black eye and a busted lip before going to work. I made excuses for him, trying to stay professional, trying to believe it was just another bad night. But it kept happening, and I kept trying to survive.

When my mother passed away, I needed comfort and compassion. Instead, I was met with anger, coldness, and cruelty. While I grieved, he disappeared to use drugs and treated my loss like an inconvenience. That was when I realized: the person I lived with was not capable of love, empathy, or care.

Now, things have spiraled completely out of control. Substance abuse fuels his rage, and strangers come and go at all hours of the night, using money meant for bills to fund his habits. He’s cut off my Wi-Fi and cell service, leaving me isolated and unable to work freely. He’s drained my bank accounts, even taking money from a zero-balance account, throwing me deep into debt. He’s installed new interior locks to restrict where I can go in the house and has cameras monitoring my every move. He uses every basic need as a tool to manipulate.

I’ve become a prisoner inside my own home — confined to a small bedroom and bathroom with a private entrance that isn’t truly private at all, because he still has the access codes and keys. I live in a constant state of fear. I jump at every sound, running on little to no sleep, fighting through anxiety and emotional breakdowns, all while still trying to hold onto a full-time job and think of a new plan each day just to survive.

The abuse hasn’t only been physical and emotional — it’s been humiliating, bringing betrayal into my home, into my life, and into the few moments when I was trying to hold everything together.

My daughter and granddaughter were forced to leave, and in one of the cruelest moments, he packed their belongings and set them outside in the middle of the night. Watching that happen broke me completely — and I knew I would be next.

Now, that time has come. I’ve been served papers to leave by November 10th. The house is in his name cars are in mine, but though I’ve continued to make payments on both — leaving me responsible for debt while he controls the home. It’s a cruel financial and emotional trap that I can’t fix alone.

I’ve spoken with the authorities, and they are aware of the situation. However, because there hasn’t been a recent physical assault, they cannot remove him from the home. I’ve been told the only true path to safety is to leave and rebuild somewhere else.

My daughter and granddaughter are now in a temporary housing, waiting for me. I’m so thankful she found short-term help, but I’m terrified they’ll have to return to West Virginia if I can’t help provide soon — and then I’ll truly be alone.

This has become a saga of survival — every day brings a new challenge, a new plan, a new reason to keep going even when I feel like I can’t. I’m exhausted, scared, but still fighting.

I have 15 days left to find safety, shelter, and a way to start over. I’m asking for help — something I never thought I’d do — to cover temporary housing, transportation, and basic essentials while I rebuild, reunite with my family, and reclaim my peace.

If you know me — if I’ve ever made you smile, helped you, or if you’ve ever thought of me kindly — please help me take this step toward freedom.

Every donation, no matter the size, brings me closer to safety, stability, and peace.

Please… Please....help me end this chapter and start a new one — one filled with hope, not fear. Those who know me know that communities can make a difference when they come together. I have been on the other side of raising money and helping and I am embarrassed to ask.

Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for caring.

I’m ready to stop surviving — and start living again.