Hello everyone, I have been a reader of these forums for quite some time and they've always given me strength and a sense that I'm 'doing the right thing' when it comes to my adult son, aged 30. But now, now I feel so lost. I live in a permanent state of anxiety and sadness and I just don't know what to do about it anymore. My son is 30 and we had to make him leave the family home four years ago (he’s an only child) due to his erratic behaviour, verbal abuse and mental health issues. As you are all aware, it’s the most heart breaking, soul destroying thing to do as a parent, forcing a mentally ill child out of the home. Well, he wasn’t a child at 26, but he is my child. We tried so desperately to get him help from the community mental health team but each time we managed to get them to our house, they kept telling us there was nothing they could do (three separate visits!) To them, he wasn’t quite ‘mad’ enough! L Even though his own doctor told them that he thought our son was bordering on mild schizophrenia. We told them how he thought that we’d bugged the house, put cameras in the walls, poisoned his food, had him followed, stole ideas from inside of his head to make money off him and so the list goes on. We wrote a weekly diary type letter to his doctor and copied the mental health team on to it and after several weeks, they phoned us and invited us in for a meeting. Progress, we cried! But no, as soon as we sat down, they simply said, ‘this has to stop’ – they wanted us to stop asking for help. I was so angry and upset. I challenged them and asked exactly what we were supposed to do? Our lives at home were hell and he desperately needed help. They suggested making him homeless and the police would pick him up ‘if they saw him wandering the streets.’ I asked how they thought loving parents would just throw out a mentally ill person – how was this acceptable? Anyway, to cut a long story short, they wouldn’t help and circumstances pushed us into making him leave. It's been a nightmare ever since. It’s almost four years later and he won’t settle anywhere. We’ve found him rooms to rent and paid for them. He’s found rooms to rent and we’ve paid for them. The local homeless charity found him somewhere to live and gave him some money toward a deposit and that went wrong too – to the point that they will no longer help him. From what I can gather, they lost a landlord over it so I don’t know what my son did to cause that. I know that he drinks and I know that he does drugs – I don’t know to what extent but it obviously plays a part in his day to day living. It doesn’t seem to matter what help we try to give him; it always ends up the same. A month or two later he’s back on the doorstep because it’s gone wrong again. No home, no food, no money – no anything but his bags. He won’t go the doctors to get any help. I’ve offered to go with him but it’s a no-go. We went to the local council to say he’s homeless and they said, ‘sorry, he’s not a priority’ there’s nothing we can do. A few nights ago we looked out of our back window to see someone climbing over our garden fence after helping themselves to some of his belongings he’d left out there. Turned out to be drug related – so now we have that to put up with too. This time we’ve really tried to put our foot down and say no more. No more money, no more knocking for food or drink, no more coming back to our door with all of this mess but he just doesn’t listen. He turns up anyway. All times of the day and night and won’t stop knocking til one of us answers. I sit in the house after work with the curtains shut because I don’t want him to know I am in there. I just can’t take it anymore. Having to keep telling my own son that no, I can’t feed him, no I have no money, no there’s nothing I can do that he’s sleeping outside and it’s November. Last night I caught him trying to pitch a tent at the bottom of the garden! I gave him a quilt and pillow and said he had to leave and if he didn’t, I’d call the police. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I know that he’s brought most of these problems on himself but as a mother, it’s killing me. Anyway, thank you for reading and sorry to ramble on. Take care, Belle.