Dear Friends and Family, and People I Don't Know. 

I never thought I’d be writing this again, but here we are — elbows-deep in the soup of life’s catastrophes with no ladle in sight. Over the last six years, we’ve weathered a surgery, two job losses, a car accident, surprise home repairs, and a slow, suffocating descent into medical & life's curveballs debt. We even tried consolidating it like responsible adults. Spoiler alert: it’s still crushing us.

Add to that our need to be home with our children, one of whom is autistic and receives intensive in-home ABA therapy, OT/Speech Therapy, and you’ve got a recipe for financial ruin that would make even a medieval plague doctor raise an eyebrow.

So here it is, short and not sweet: we need immediate financial help — not advice, not a budgeting lecture, not a new app suggestion — just actual, tangible help. We’ve managed the spiral with grace and dark humor, but the bottom is coming fast. It's do or die. Get it under control, or file for bankruptcy and hope rock bottom is padded.

We are so grateful to those who’ve helped in the past —Grandma, I'm looking at you — their kindness meant everything. And I hate asking again. I hate it with the fire of a thousand overdue bills. But the truth is, most people didn’t answer the call last time. We didn’t want to point fingers, but they were twitching. 

That’s why we named the campaign Everyone's Supportive In Theory. Because in reality, most people just sent thoughts, prayers, and the occasional emoji. I must’ve missed my appointment at the Vibes-to-Currency Exchange, because all the goodwill in the world hasn’t paid a single bill.

We don’t need another awareness post or a banner on your profile pic. We need real, tangible help. Money. Support that actually supports.

If you’ve ever thought about helping—this is the moment. Please step up. We’re still fighting, still hoping, and still clinging to life by the skin of our overdrawn teeth.

$10,000 is the starting line. Will we reach it? We’re crossing our fingers… but not holding our breath.

For context: our last fundraiser (over a year ago) was after the car accident. It raised $0. Yep. Zero. So here we are again—bruised, jaded, desperate, and hopeful anyway.

Shoutout to Grandma, who is single-handedly keeping the family torch burning while everyone else fumbles for a lighter.