DOMESTIC VIOLENCE TW
This is definitely something new for me, something I never would have expected to have to do so I’m feeling a bit shaky and nervous. I just want to already thank you for even looking at this and/or considering donating.
I’ll cut right to the nitty gritty:
Early morning on August 28th of this year, my now ex-boyfriend assaulted me at the apartment we shared, in the city I moved to in order to be with him. Proper legal action was taken and now he no longer lives in the apartment with me.
I was left nothing in the process. My car was not working, I had overdue bills from where my ex boyfriend spent my bill money on things other than bills, and rent was due the next week. I spent all my money trying to maintain the apartment. Which I was thankfully able to accomplish.
The issue that is now at hand is that the apartment’s lease was in my ex boyfriend’s name and I was only an occupant. I am now being forced to apply for the apartment myself. I’m sure a lot of you have been through that and are unfortunately familiar with that money-gripping process. A deposit. First month’s rent. The whole enchilada.
I am supporting myself and two cats. I need your help to keep my apartment! I have survived a physically and emotionally abusive relationship; I was so fortunate to be able to take proper legal action and get myself out of the deathgrip of domestic abuse. The horror stories of people locked in abusive relationships with no exit are not simply myths and tall tales. This happens to so many people every single day and some don’t ever get the chance to ask for help.
I got that chance. And now I am asking you for your help.
Here is an outline of my expenses:
Deposit for apartment: $200
First month’s rent: $445
Electricity activation: $140
I am kicking and screaming to keep this apartment, to not end up without a place to live. This is my home, the one I made in this city and I don’t want to lose it! Any amount of donation will be thoroughly and whole heartedly appreciated! Even if it’s only $1, the thought will show me that people out there are aware of the horror that is abusive relationships and are willing to help and support the victims and survivors.
If you read this and would like to help in a non-monetary way, I encourage you to share this post as well as volunteering at your local women’s and children shelter!
Donation page: http://gofundme.com/f0xoj8
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! THIS MEANS THE ABSOLUTE WORLD TO ME!
With absolute best regards,
Hey guys, just a quick update. I haven’t had power since Thursday. Sunday was my birthday. And I have to sign the new lease on Wednesday. Also I’m working 7 days a week. I would really like power at my house (I just need $50 for that to happen!!!) I am so grateful for all the continued support. If you can’t donate, please please share this!! I love you all!!!
Help out someone who’s been fucked around by a justice system that doesn’t seem to give a shit about women, or justice, because it doesn’t.
My colleague and I went up to Syracuse earlier this month to talk with the US National Guard and Air Force about the drone program being run out of Syracuse’s Hancock Airport.
The base denies that killings are carried out with their drones, and won’t disclose the identities of drone pilots, who go to work, fly in a combat zone overseas, and then get home on time for dinner.
Protestors are dealt with very harshly, and the military manipulates the law in order to repel and even incarcerate them, though their demonstrations are peaceful. Here’s the video, and the little write-up can be found here.
Citizens of Ferguson speaking out about how they’re treated, and how systemic racism starts working against black children and their futures before they’re even teenagers.
Even at age twelve I could tell that Jimmy Carter was an honest man trying to address complicated issues and Ronald Reagan was a brilcreemed salesman telling people what they wanted to hear. I secretly wept on the stairs the night he was elected President, because I understood that the kind of shitheads I had to listen to in the cafeteria grew up to become voters, and won. I spent the eight years he was in office living in one of those science-fiction movies where everyone is taken over by aliens—I was appalled by how stupid and mean-spirited and repulsive the world was becoming while everyone else in America seemed to agree that things were finally exactly as they should be. The Washington Press corps was so enamored of his down-to-earth charm that they never checked his facts, but if you watched his face when it was at rest, when he wasn’t performing for anyone, you could see him for what he really was—a black-eyed, slit-mouthed, lizard-faced old son-of-a-bitch. He was a bad actor, an informer for McCarthy, and a hired front man for a gang of Texas oilmen, fundamentalist dingbats, and right-wing psychotics out of Dr. Strangelove. He put a genial face on chauvanism, callousness, and greed, and made people feel good about being bigots again. He likened Central American death squads to our founding fathers and called the Taliban “freedom fighters.” His legacy includes the dismantling of Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, the final dirty win of Management over Labor, the outsourcing of America’s manufacturing base, the embezzlement of almost all the country’s wealth by 1% of its citizens, the scapegoating of the poor and black, the War on Drugs, the eviction of schizophrenics into the streets, AIDS, acid rain, Iran-Contra, and, let’s not forget, the corpses of two hundred forty United States Marines. He moved the center of political discourse in this country to somewhere in between Richard Nixon and Augusto Pinochet. He believed in astrology and Armageddon and didn’t know the difference between history and movies; his stories were lies and his jokes were scripted. He was the triumph of image over truth, paving the way for even more vapid spokesmodels like George W. Bush. He was, as everyone agrees, exactly what he appeared to be—nothing. He made me ashamed to be an American. If there was any justice in this world his Presidential Library would contain nothing but boys’ adventure books and bad cowboy movies, and the only things named after him would be shopping malls and Potter’s Fields. Let the earth where he is buried be seeded with salt.
Ferguson swine wanted to play army but cry like infants when their targets start shooting back.