Gabby's climb for a cause
Organized by: Gabrielle Greer
My name is Gabby. I turned 18 in April of 2016. I've had a kind of rough life. Lots of bumps in the road. Since I was a 1 year old, I had been searching for a cause. My mom left my step father, who then took care of me as much as he could. I never met my biological father, but the DNA difference between my step father and I, never mattered to me. When I was 2 1/2 my dad got married to my step mom. Over the years, things were up and down for me. I remember trying to do second grade math and struggling with regrouping. I got so frustrated that I started crying. My step mother threw the dinner table on me and played on top of me, gripping my face and screaming at me. I then remember being thrown into the wall. That was the first time I had ever felt alone. Within a year or so, I started biting myself. I was little. I didn't j ow what depression meant. I just knew that I was sad and felt that if I punished myself before my step mom did, then she wouldn't hurt me as much. When I was 13 my biological mother decided to kidnapped me and take me to Texas where I witnessed my little brother get beaten and where I was offered drugs and constantly was crying out my window for help. My mother was always high or having seizures. I found a way to contact my step parents and was brought back to the house. We had then moved to Tennessee, where my step mother got a better job. On my 14th birthday my cousin (step mom's nephew) molested me. I was the one being blamed. I remember waking up and a light shining through my door and then disappearing. I played there and closed my eyes. I did everything I could to think about something else. Shortly after that my best and only friend had committed suicide. Around that same time my grandmother who had take care of me when my mom didn't want to, was dying. I was scared to go see her in her state of dementia, so I went with a few acquaintances I had seen at school. I then not only had my first drink, but was raped while unconscious. And it continued after I woke up. I was hospitalized in February 2014, March 2015, and was sent to a residential facility in Alabama for 5 months. Through all my hospitalizations, I spent my 16th and 17th birthday in the hospital. My faith was tested strongly when my grandmother died. I was then put on probation for unruly juvenile after breaking through my window to tell the police about my step mother repeatedly kicking me in the ribs. The bruises weren't enough and I was on probation until earlier this year. This year in may, I had found out that my biological mother had cervical cancer. I wanted to say that I loved and forgave her. I bought a bus ticket for the next week, quit my job and spent my $300 savings on a bus ticket and food and taxis. A week after I got there, the water was turned off for 2 weeks. Where we bathed in the cold showers in the heart of Texas. We then ran out of money for food and my mother's cancer treatments. So knowing that I couldn't find a job fast enough, I began to prostitute in order to keep my family and I fed and bathed. I was almost killed twice. In July I came back and was told that I was not allowed to be back at my parents house. I've been searching for jobs, and housing ever since. Out of all the people who gave up on me, I never would've thought it would be my parents. I'm still praying as much as I can every day for some kind of miracle. I'm beginning to wonder if I have a cause for the earth anymore. I used to get by, by playing My guitar but I had to sell it in order to eat and get food. Any kind of donation would be greatly appreciated. I hate asking for anything. But I'm scared and lost. Thank you for your time.