Surviving Alone: My Story of Struggle and Strength

By Jeanette R. Harrison

Over the past five years, my life has been a relentless struggle—one that many people never see. I’m sharing my story not for pity, but to shed light on what it truly means to fight every day when support is scarce, and cruelty is often the loudest voice.

2020: When My World Fell Apart

During the pandemic, my ex kicked me out of our home so his new girlfriend—now his wife—could move in. I arrived in Idaho with nothing but my dog, two suitcases, a few boxes, and $2,400 in palimony—less than 50 cents a day for a 12-year relationship. No furniture, no savings, and no safety net.

People didn’t understand that not every state is a community property state like Idaho, and that laws about divorce, common law marriage, and property rights differ widely from state to state. Because of that confusion, many assumed I was lying or misrepresenting my situation. I was treated like it was my fault. I had to survive on small “gifts” from friends—barely enough to get by. For 15 months, a COVID grant kept me afloat. Amid the chaos, I published my third poetry book, “Only Settle for Happiness,” in December 2020—my first of many wins.

I'm smiling, but this was a tough day. It's the day my money started to run out in November 2020, and I had to apply for a COVID grant to keep a roof over my head. 

2021–2022: Building Despite the Odds

I worked part-time at Pearson and launched my business, How Healthcare Works, in 2021 with just my stimulus check. In February 2022, I published “Bragging About You” and promoted it on podcasts through 2022 and 2023, even while battling severe COVID early in 2022. I went back to work for Pearson in 2022,  and then started a temp job at the housing authority to "give back" after I had been saved by the Emergency Rent Assistance Program. 

That December, I had a car accident over Christmas weekend. I couldn’t afford repairs, so in June 2023, my car was repossessed.

This is my 50th birthday. I spent the day mostly alone. My sister took me to lunch and then to the grocery store where she bought me a cake and ice cream and sent me home to eat it alone. My one true friend I have had in Idaho texted me later that day and invited me out for the evening. 

2023: A Year of Hardship and Persistence

My belongings didn’t arrive all at once—they trickled in over three years, one or two boxes at a time, only when I could afford the shipping costs. It was a slow, painful process. Finally, a kind couple I’d never met offered to bring my things to Idaho after a trip to Missouri, relieving me of that burden in May 2023. 

Despite losing my car, eviction notices, and job instability, I kept fighting. I received rent assistance from local charities, my church, and the county. I got a $6,000 microloan for my business and a county loan for rent, but people treated me like I’d squandered a fortune.

I secured a temp job at $17/hour in October 2023, relying on buses and walking miles. People in Idaho helped me minimally, and people who knew me for decades bullied, criticized, and complained, and made me feel like a complete loser. Yet, I published “Get Your Walk On,” held a book signing, read my children’s book at a daycare, and grew my social media presence as an influencer.

I was happy in this picture. I was working on my business full-time and feeling like I was gaining some traction. But, like everything else the past five years, if I didn't make immediate changes, I was treated like a failure. I don't know anyone who magically is successful in their business in only a few months... especially while going it alone. 

2024: Still Fighting for Stability

I was hired permanently at the housing Authority in January but still couldn’t afford a car. In August, my teaching job lasted only weeks before ending without explanation. My apartment complex repeatedly took me to eviction court (a continuation of 2023), each time seeming to coincide with job losses. I went on unemployment and struggled to really push my business. For the first time in five years, I really felt supported with my business and those around me, I thought, "We're finally getting somewhere." 

I was back at my job at the housing authority, my walking book was out, and I was getting therapy for my PTSD. I felt good about life. Later, in the summer of 2024, I did several videos for my business. I felt like, "I can do this working full-time and running a business thing. I'm going to be okay." Until I wasn't. You can't be okay without solid and real social support. Not pretend. Not scripted. Not forced. 

2025: Enduring Against All Odds

Around Christmastime, I obtained a short-term temp job. I received another after the first of the year. I also had another eviction proceeding with my apartment complex and went through mediation. That wiped me out financially.  Then, I contracted pneumonia and lost my temp job. I battled pneumonia in the spring, sick for weeks without anyone checking in. Without a car for two years, I was hired for another temp assignment when I had recovered from pneumonia. I walked five miles daily to the bus stop while recovering. Currently, I’m working a temp job in healthcare, walking several miles a week just to get to and from work.

Still, my influence grew. I continued to write, speak, and inspire—refusing to be silenced by neglect and cruelty. 

It's been a hard fight since having had pneumonia. I'm struggling to recover still, and my walking isn't quite what it was. My knee has been hurting me, and loneliness is starting to take its toll on me. I try to find the light even in the darkest times, but I refuse to "just be positive." Life is a balancing act. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, and it isn't all clouds and storms, either. 

Why I Tell You This

Because no one should have to endure this alone. Because real support, empathy, and kindness can change lives. Because the isolation, bullying, and neglect I faced—especially during holidays and birthdays—reflect a deeper societal failure.

If you know someone struggling, don’t turn away. Don’t judge. Offer help without conditions. And if you witness cruelty, stand up.

I survived. I created. I persisted. And I’m still here.

But no one should have to survive alone.

Let’s be better—for all of us.