Veteran Family Facing Imminent Eviction

Hello, My name is Jessica Silver. I am the displaced spouse of a U.S. Army combat veteran, a mother of five, a stone and wood sculptor, and an advocate for the spouses and children of veterans who are not enrolled in the VA. Six years ago, during the same week the COVID pandemic began, my children and I had to suddenly flee our home because my husband, a combat veteran suffering from severe untreated PTSD and TBI, had become too violent for us to safely remain in contact with him. It took his involuntary commitment for us to finally have the chance to leave. Because of the nature of his service-connected mental illness, he refused to engage with or enroll in the VA. That refusal became one of the many forms of abuse we are still struggling to overcome today. When people hear the term domestic violence, they often think first of physical abuse, and understandably so. It is the most visible form of abuse, so it tends to take center stage. However, financial abuse is one form of abuse that can continue long after a family is technically “safe.” I have made it my life’s mission to bring awareness to this issue and to advocate for policy changes within the VA and other programs that serve military families. Current policies are causing extreme harm to some of the most vulnerable veteran families: the spouses and children forced to flee domestic violence, untreated mental illness, or substance abuse. Under the current system, once the veteran is no longer in the home, even when separation is necessary for safety, the family is often excluded from benefits and support they would otherwise qualify for if the veteran were still living with them. This creates a devastating paradox where families may feel pressured to remain in unsafe situations simply to maintain access to support for their children. These outdated policies have failed to evolve alongside the realities many veteran families face today. I have been using my family’s story to advocate at the local, state, and federal levels while simultaneously living through the same fallout that far too many veteran spouses and children are forced to face alone. Thankfully, there are some incredible community organizations that stepped in to help our family. Through the Homeless Prevention Program run by the Opportunity Council here in Bellingham, we were finally able to find a stable home. For the first time in years, all five of my children had their own rooms, which is a huge deal when you have teenagers. The property had over an acre of land, a barn where I was able to set up my stone carving studio, and enough outdoor space for my kids and our dog to run, play, and finally feel like kids again. Stability was finally starting to feel possible. Unfortunately, that stability was short-lived. Not long afterward, my youngest son Justin underwent a biopsy to rule out leukemia. Shortly after the procedure, he nearly died from sepsis and acute respiratory failure. Since then, our family has endured crisis after crisis, including multiple hospitalizations, pneumonia, COVID, kidney infections, cellulitis, appendicitis, vehicle breakdowns, homeschooling challenges, and ongoing financial instability. Before all of this, I never truly understood how precarious life becomes when you are unable to consistently meet your family’s basic needs. It becomes nearly impossible to maintain steady work when you are the only parent available to manage every emergency, appointment, crisis, and logistical challenge that comes with raising a large family alone. And once you fall behind financially, it can feel almost impossible to recover. People often assume poverty only happens to certain kinds of people, but the truth is that hardship does not discriminate. Poverty is a lot like mud. Mud does not care who you are, where you came from, or how hard you work. Once you are covered in it, everyone looks the same, and climbing back out by yourself can feel nearly impossible. Recently, we lost our housing assistance due to budget cuts to the program that made it possible for us to stay in our home. Overnight, we were left responsible for nearly $4,000 a month in rent that we could not afford to pay on our own. At the same time, we also could not afford the costs associated with relocating, leaving us trapped in a home we could no longer sustain. As the months passed, I was forced to spend nearly all of my time trying to navigate assistance systems, advocate for my family, and search for solutions instead of being able to fully focus on rebuilding financially. Our unpaid rent eventually grew to over $24,000. Now, we are facing eviction with the same devastating problem: nowhere to go and no money to move. A sheriff is expected to arrive Monday, and we may be forced to leave behind many of the belongings we have not managed to move out in time. There have been moments where this situation has left me feeling completely defeated and hopeless. But I also know I cannot give up because my children are depending on me, not only to keep them safe, but to teach them that even during the worst moments in life, we still have control over how we respond. I want my children to understand that hardship can either harden you or transform you, and that sometimes the most meaningful opportunities, growth, and connections are found just beyond the edge of our comfort zone. So this is me reaching out for a helping hand as I once again try to pull my family out of this muddy pit and build something stable for my children. I would love to find someone who is open to a work for rent type situation, I am a Jill-of-all-trades type and whatever I don't know how to do I quickly will figure it out and I don’t shy away from hard work of any kind and I am very open to the idea of relocating if need be! Besides that I am open to any form of support, guidance, resources, opportunities, or kindness that someone may be willing to offer. Thank you for taking the time to read our story. Any help, big or small, means more to my family than words can express.