Stand by Kelley in Her Time of Need

I am raising funds for my friend Kelley, who has been diagnosed with a mental health disorder. She has written in her own words what has happened to her over the years. She desperately needs financial assistance to pay for her property taxes so she doesn’t lose her home. Here are her own words:

“Hardships & Self-Care

1. Son diagnosed with “apraxia”

2. Closed my kayak rental business

3. Grandparent diagnosed with bone cancer and begins chemotherapy

4. COVID travel/school restrictions

5. COVID and inflammatory diagnosis

6. Undiagnosed psychosis, schizophrenia

7. Adoption of wild BLM Mustangs

8. MI and NY neighbors trespassing

9. Three horses died, four rehomed

10. My father went “missing”

11. Surrendered MI property, land contract

12. Dad was said to have died, his body was said to be cremated

13. Animal carcasses left to scare us

14. Someone attempted to steal kayak

15. Grandmother passed away

16. Electricity was disconnected

17. Property tax notices began

18. We bartered for food, exercise

19. We began socializing, seeking sense of community, emotional support

20. We visited nearby towns (Unadilla)

21. DSS removed son from me

22. I voluntarily checked into CPEP, later moved into in-patient care — January–June hospitalization

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Personal Narrative

August 2020 I bought a home located in Windsor, NY. This home became the primary residence to myself and two children by summer 2022, however, circumstances separated us from one another at this time. In effort of reuniting my family, I write to seek financial assistance on past due, delinquent property taxes, past due electricity, and repairs.

At the time of purchasing the home, we lived in Michigan and had plans of repair to both homes prior to making the move permanent. Our life was hectic but manageable. My son had weekly appointments with a speech pathologist in effort to overcome “apraxia.” Also, one of the children’s grandparents was diagnosed with bone cancer. The desire to be closer to family prompted the move, although travel restrictions during COVID made most travel attempts challenging.

Circumstances worsened when I contracted COVID, as I also began symptoms of a rare inflammatory disease of the breast. As symptoms subsided I felt empowered, as though I had a new lens on circumstances. I thought my experiences were a spiritual awakening. Hindsight — I was experiencing psychosis, or what some call schizophrenia. This time was bizarre because I had real circumstances occurring at the same time as perceived circumstances.

For example — and as if I didn’t have enough responsibility — we rushed the adoption process of several wild BLM mustangs. I still had two homes in need of repair but felt the horses needed my, and my daughter’s, care. Our time training them was therapeutic, but I realize now the irony — horse blinders. I began making short-cuts in effort to meet time and financial demands. In that time frame, I had switched the hay for lesser quality grass feed. Although I worked with the horses, I could not see the declining health of our geldings. We lost three of the sweetest boys to my undiagnosed mental illness.

My experiences were not isolated in a bubble, but exposed. On top of mental illness, I experienced mental injury from neighbors, strangers, and family. My dad went missing for two weeks, later said to have died with no real explanation. I still question if he lost his life trying to protect me for choices I was making or if he is alive, seeking answers.

We should have felt safe in either home, except I caught neighbors trespassing on both the MI and NY homes. Animal remains were placed outside to intimidate me and my children. My daughter caught someone stealing a kayak in the back of our NY property, startling us all.

I was not functioning well and every area of our life was impacted. Bills were not being paid and I was not earning income to prevent disruption. The electric was disconnected, turned off, and property tax notices began. I felt ashamed and targeted. I did not know how to ask for help, or who to ask for help. I felt paranoid, as if someone wanted to harm me or those I care about.

I began to listen, slowly journaling what I witnessed, hoping to develop a sense of discernment through emotional, spiritual, and physical storms. By the time we lost the horses, I felt as though I deserved punishment. But the truth is that I needed help, a sense of community and support. The remaining horses were rehomed and the grandmother with bone cancer passed away.

The life we were hoping for diminished but we still had one another. I became more active in the community, frequenting the library, attending weekly luncheons with the older members of our tiny town and getting to learn from those who would share their opinions openly, in kindness.

To those who watched from afar, I can only imagine their criticism, based on those who verbalized grief. To those who took time to speak, even in unkindness, I feel thankful. I replay those conversations in my mind. I do not write seeking pity, but to share my circumstances in hope that someone may slow down to re-evaluate what they may see in behaviors within their sphere of influence.

Are you condemning the behaviors of mental illness, further injuring a situation, when speaking in love, compassion, support is needed?

I knew change needed to happen, but I did not know where I could be effective to salvage my home and family. I did not have the luxury of stopping time, so I continued listening, observing. I needed to slow down enough to reprioritize my effort to earn income, but I focused first on what I seemed to have done well — communicating and listening.

I knew changes needed to occur, but I needed to first gain perspective. With my dad and maternal figure gone, I felt alone. November 2024 I took my son on a trip. We traveled by bicycle to a nearby town that promotes “a pilgrimage” and “meeting” forum. We were clean and well-equipped. We camped underneath clear skies and engaged in conversation with locals during daylight. These actions were not a way of life, but actions for a time to gain perspective by collecting my thoughts, reflections. I did not feel alone when locals were as open to communicate as they were.

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Final Page

My son and I were headed home when DSS showed up to remove him from my care. There was little communication from the representative to learn of our circumstances, and there was no support for my family unit, only support to remove my son, as though I were a danger to him, or as though I was placing him in danger.

Two months later, January 2025, I was still seeking answers to all we had been through and at the request of a friend, I voluntarily checked myself into CPEP, short-term hospitalization. I wanted to unpack all we had experienced and felt talk-therapy was beneficial. I was later moved to a long-term program offering a teaching-style environment and time to reflect on the information I was given. This is where I have been since March 2025 and am now awaiting discharge.”