Hi, my name is CM. I’ve hit rock bottom and am beyond struggling to keep a roof over my head and the utilities on. I don’t care what happens to me, but my babies—Roxxi, my emotional support rescue dog who’s almost 5, and Sammi, my 5-year-old rescue cat—didn’t sign up for this. They are my only family and my world.

I had some savings, but the first time I got sick, it was all gone. After a domestic situation, I lost everything and had to relocate. I’ve always worked in healthcare, but due to health issues, I had to downgrade from a full-time CNA to a poorly paid HHA with only 25 hours a week. As a veteran, I’ve fallen through the cracks and receive little help. I’m humiliated to do this, and ashamed that at 57, I can’t find a better job, though it’s not from lack of trying.

I never drive, so I walk Roxxi to work with me—an hour each way—just to try to make ends meet. I’ve been in my tiny apartment for many years, and everything I have is something I found or was given. Making barely above minimum wage, my lights and gas are about to be shut off, and I’m behind on rent. Now my phone is out of talk and text time, so I don’t even know if good jobs are trying to reach me. I’m not frivolous—thrift stores and discount shops are my high-end retailers. I’m not looking to get rich, just to survive and keep my pets safe.

Roxxi needs a vet appointment I can’t afford, and both need some kind of Christmas because I’m so depressed. They are the only reason I get out of bed. I’m disgusted with myself and my situation, and I see no light at the end of the tunnel. The stress and pressure hurt my heart and feel like concrete on my chest. I’m humiliated because I’m ashamed I need help. I’m usually the one who helps everyone else, not the other way around. I keep praying for a miracle, but I think God gave up on me. I’m swallowing my pride and asking for help only because of my pets. Any support you can give means the world to us. Thank you for caring about Roxxi and Sammi and helping us find hope.