For years, I poured myself into my work—supporting people facing homelessness, substance use, and complex trauma. I worked in the nonprofit world, a high-profile position I once called my dream job. And it was. I used to say I manifested it. But something shifted. Slowly, then all at once. The weight of the world I carried began crushing me. I smiled on the outside, but I was drowning inside. Numb. Empty. Overwhelmed. I found myself planning my end—not out of hopelessness, but exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion that wraps itself around your spirit and tells you there’s no way out. I gave everything to others—my time, my love, my soul—but left nothing for myself. I believed my worth was measured in how much I could give. I didn’t know how to receive. I didn’t know how to rest. And now, I’ve finally paused. I’ve taken leave from work to face what I’ve buried for years, and for the first time, I’m choosing

me. I recently received the King Charles III Coronation Medal for my work in the community—a bittersweet reminder of what I’ve accomplished and what it’s cost me. Now, I’m seeking help. Real, deep, life-changing help. There’s a therapy treatment—specialized for trauma—that could give me a second chance at life. The cost is steep. It’s a heavy burden for my family to carry, especially, where there is little support for people like me who’ve stepped away to heal. So here I am—vulnerable, hopeful, and reaching out to the world. If you’ve ever known what it means to burn out from caring too much… If you’ve ever struggled to ask for help… If you believe in the power of healing and community… I’m asking, humbly, for your support. Whether you can donate, share, or send words of encouragement—thank you. Truly. Let’s create a space where healing isn’t a luxury, but a right. Let’s build a community rooted in compassion, resilience, and love. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for helping me find my way home. With love, Renee