Surviving the Storm: My Battle with Roof Damage in Florida

A powerful thunderstorm swept across Florida, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. My home was not spared—the relentless rain and fierce winds tore through my roof, leaving it in shambles. For years, I struggled to find a solution. Repairs were costly, and my aging house lacked insurance coverage. The previous owner had neglected maintenance, leaving me with a derelict property.

My options were limited. I applied for FEMA assistance, hoping for relief. Additionally, I decided to create a plea on GoFundMe to rally support from friends, family, and kind-hearted strangers. But there’s a painful truth: my father, Alex Daoud, turned a blind eye to my desperate situation. Unlike my siblings—whose education, clothing, and well-being were provided for—I received nothing. Coerced and manipulated, I found myself isolated from family bonds.

Kelly Hyman-Daoud, a prominent tort attorney, and Alexander Daoud, a respected Dermatology Doctor, thrived while I struggled. Their financial success contrasted sharply with my own hardships. Words alone couldn’t bridge the gap—they abandoned, sabotaged, and stole from me. My good nature became a liability, leading to rejection and lost opportunities.

As I share pictures of my damaged home, I hope to raise awareness. Life’s storms may batter us, but resilience and community support can help us rebuild. Together, we can weather any tempest.

My home bears the scars of a relentless storm. These pictures reveal the extent of the damage: every room plagued by roof leaks, the once-pristine drywall now sodden and sagging. The floors, too, suffered extensively. I scrambled to salvage the carpets, but the oppressive humidity made drying them an almost impossible task.

Above, the ceiling harbors a grim secret—likely mold growth. It demands replacement, a daunting endeavor that includes addressing a roof that has limped along with patches for the past decade.

In this struggle for survival, my house stands as a testament to resilience and the urgent need for repair. 🏠💧🌧️

In the wake of the devastating storm that ravaged my home, I find myself at a crossroads—a line drawn in the rain-soaked sand. It’s a line that defies embarrassment, for pride has no place in survival.

The Line I Draw: Relying on GoFundMe

I stand unapologetically, my resolve unwavering. The truth is stark: my roof leaks, my ceilings sag, and mold creeps insidiously through the cracks. The financial burden is overwhelming, and the weight of it threatens to drown me.

Yet, here I am—a digital plea echoing across the internet. GoFundMe, my lifeline, becomes my beacon of hope. It’s not a path I envisioned, nor one I ever imagined treading. But necessity knows no shame, and desperation erases pride.

The Unseen Battle

Behind the campaign’s pixels lies a battle fought silently. Each share, each donation, each empathetic comment—these are the lifelines cast to a drowning soul. Friends, acquaintances, and strangers rally, their compassion transcending screens and distance.

The Power of Community

In this vulnerable space, I discover the strength of community. GoFundMe becomes more than a platform; it’s a testament to human kindness. The act of giving—whether a dollar or a heartfelt message—becomes a life raft. And I cling to it, grateful for every outstretched hand.

No Shame, Only Resilience

So, I draw my line—a line that defies embarrassment. I am not ashamed to rely on GoFundMe. Instead, I wear resilience like armor, knowing that vulnerability connects us all. Together, we weather the storm, one pixelated plea at a time.