Homelessness by Orientation – I have been living on the streets for 1 month. I never in my life imagined that I would end up this way. My father (who says he loves me very much) is paying the bills in a home where I am excluded. My psychotic mum rules the roost and she has decided that I am not fit to be seen in polite society. When we had a family conference about what was happening, and my psychotic mum said that it was not her fault that I was so stubborn. I had two choices: either stop being gay or never return home.
I am furious with my dad for not being strong enough to say no. He says that he is trying to put some money together so that he can rent a place for me but mum watches the family budget so strictly that he cannot spare anything. Apparently someone borrowed money from him some time back and promised to pay it back in the next “few weeks”. That is what he plans to give me. Meanwhile I am forced to crash with friends. One even suggested that I should pay in kind and he would not mind having me around the house.
You may think that is rather pathetic of me to be worried about leaving home at 19. I would love to be able to be independent but the thing is that my eviction came as a very big surprise. I was not prepared because I never for a moment imagined that my mum would stoop so low as to burn my clothes and push me out of the house. When I went to child protection services, they said I was too old to fall in their priority list. I had to wait for an assisted housing facility and they are pretty scarce in our area. I am at college and feel that they should have helped me more.
A Family Divided by Mental Illness
When we migrated to the USA from Lebanon in 2000 I was just a baby. My parents were Coptic Christians and they felt unsafe in Lebanon at the time. I would not say that we were a particularly religious family. In truth we have not been seen at any Coptic Church for years. It is just that my mum is a true narcissistic parent in every sense of the word. We are not allowed to do anything that upsets her little world. My sister has done her bit by marrying a man that is way, way too old for her. I actually suspect that she does not love him.
My younger brother is so violent that I think even mum is frightened of asking him to do anything. When he is not terrorizing the family, Malek is busy with his weed and hundreds of prostitutes. My dad works hard but he is the silent type. Somehow he has lost control of the home. I was horrified that my mother could call me a cock-sucking slut right in front of him and he did absolutely zilch.
We have had words but he is his usual noncommittal self. Although he keeps saying what mum is doing is not right, he is also not prepared to take the necessary drastic measures. We (the three kids) once begged him to throw mum out so that we could have some peace but he did nothing…as usual. We have been suffering all these years with this crazy woman. She would take turns making our lives miserable. When she was attacking another person, you at least took comfort in the fact that you were not in her crosshairs at that very moment.
I Got Caught by my Psychotic Mum
I remember the day my mum walked in on me. She had this rule that you could not close your door and she never knocked. We knew to lock our rooms and let her bang on the door until she got tired. For some reason I was so caught up this time that I forgot about it. Anyway it is not really a turn-on to tell your date that you have to lock the door and throw away the key just because your psychotic mum might walk in to inspect the deed any moment. She did catch us fair and square. My date apologized profusely and left.
There was this strange smile on mum’s face, as if she had finally got me after many attempts. It was a wicked, cruel smile. She said:
“so you are a cock sucker…I knew it. I’ve been telling your dad all this time and he will not listen. Now you’ve done it…and also in our house. You are filth. Maybe your husband will treat you when you have AIDS. I want you out of my house and away from my children. You are no son of mine.”
The words meant nothing to me. I had always felt isolated from this woman. My psychotic mum may have had a birth certificate confirming that she pushed me out of her womb but other than that we really had no connection. She had criticized me ever since I can remember. I have the bruises and scars to show for the physical torture that I went through at her hands. That is not even touching the psychological damage that she has done to all of us. The really annoying thing is that she somehow manages to make it look as if she is the victim of some conspiracy from the rest of her family.
I Wake Up to the Reality of Being Gay
I did know that some people in the community had been kicked out by their parents but somehow I thought it would not happen to me. I was ever so careful. My fag hag was absolutely spot on when it came to giving the girlfriend experience to my parents. She would convince them that I was hopelessly in love with her and that we would get married one day. My dad took it with his typically emotionless expression. My mum somehow looked skeptical but we had never given her any evidence to support what must have been her initial conclusion.
She would demand to know whether we had had sex and what it was like. It was a very intrusive question but I gathered that her eagerness to disprove that relationship was causing her to forget some of her evil strategies. I had a good idea about what men needed to do so I gave her the graphic details. My friends say it is sick for a mum to ask for such details but that is how we were brought up. You could not have a life or personality of your own. Everything was under her control and you were expected to obey her without question.
When my dad came home, my mum put on her biggest performance ever. She was the outraged mother who had spawned the devil himself. She alternated between anguished tears and dangerous fury. She said that she did not know how she could look at her sisters and brothers in Lebanon, knowing that she had a child that was doing the devil’s work. Then came the amateurish psychoanalysis. I was a pervert who had always been looking at my brother in a funny way. She said that they needed to be protected.
Out I Go
Even today; I am quite ambivalent about actually going back to the house. The temporary shelter where I went could not accommodate me since I was over 18. Another offered me to stay for the night but then I had to find alternative accommodation for the next days. She had taken a pair of scissors to my wallet including my cards and the little money I had. The bank gave me some cash but it was nowhere near enough to rent a motel or any dwelling for that matter.
My existence now is filled with official forms and internet searches for possible affordable accommodation. I no longer want to go home again…it was about time I left that crazy place anyway. The next school term is running but I am juggling too much. It is not nice finishing a lesson, not knowing where you are going to sleep. One seemingly kind person offered to put me up but he ended up wanting to rape me. Now I am quite wary of offers of help that involve sleeping in someone’s house with them.
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I am hopeful that my dad will finally come through, although he has always let me down right from when I was a kid. If I can rent a room in a hostel, it might give me some relief whilst I work out my next move. I have no inclination to see my mum again. My sister has seen me and advised me not to return because mum is making daily calls to the people in Lebanon telling them that I have become a gay slut and that I am prostituting myself for drugs. It is incredible how she is always able to come up with these stories!!! Anyway, I hope I find a home soon.
