My name is Robin, and I’m reaching out for help with a car repair that’s become critical to my daily life. My car’s electrical system has developed a short, and without it, I’m struggling to get to my housekeeping job at the West Los Angeles Veterans Medical Center, attend AA meetings, buy groceries, and stay connected to my community and church.
Living with PTSD and TBI, reliable transportation isn’t just a convenience—it’s a lifeline. On cold or rainy days, the stress of not knowing if my car will start has made it even harder to manage my recovery and keep my job. I worry every day about losing my employment and the stability it brings.
Your support would mean the world to me. I would be so grateful and thankful for any help, and it gives me hope to know there are still humans helping humans in need. Thank you for considering a donation and for being part of my journey toward healing and stability.
Living with PTSD and TBI, reliable transportation isn’t just a convenience—it’s a lifeline. On cold or rainy days, the stress of not knowing if my car will start has made it even harder to manage my recovery and keep my job. I worry every day about losing my employment and the stability it brings.
Your support would mean the world to me. I would be so grateful and thankful for any help, and it gives me hope to know there are still humans helping humans in need. Thank you for considering a donation and for being part of my journey toward healing and stability.


