Donate to help seht find a place.

Hey, you already know who I am and I think a lot of you know my story so far. Or at least a decent amount, but I think I should go through it all this time to be 100% clear

I've grown up in multiple both physically, mentally and sexually abusive households growing up. My dad was never in the picture, and my mum had been raped around the time she had me— she was in no state to look after me, so I went to government foster homes before my grandparents. In the foster home, I was neglected in my most important growing stages as a baby/ toddler, even having their dog bite my leg and it being infected to the point where they thought they might have to take it off. I still have the ugly ass scar to this day on my right leg. Once my grandparents got custody of me at about 4, it wasn't any real improvement. My grandma who was the closest to my idea of a mother, was a drug abusing alcoholic due to chronic pain. My grandpa was a abusive, mentally torturing man who neglected me at every stage of my life. I had to look after myself growing up because there was only myself. I'm kind of a sickly guy, with a brain condition (intercranial hypertension) and a weak lung due to chronic asthma, I was practically there for half of school and had to drop out of high school to nurse my dying grandma. She died around 2019 which was about a couple months after I was raped by a guy my age from my school. After my grandma's death, my grandpa fled where we left, leaving me with around $50 and telling me to go find my own place. I was 16, who had dropped out at year 10 with no qualifications or anything to help myself so, I moved in with my mother. I've always been on and off with her, as she's mentally never been there in my life, she was clinically clingy, an anxious mess at all times, had constant mood swings with some of them ending out in me being hurt or chased around, she wasn't a mother. She wasn't fit to be one either and I was the parent at all times— growing up even on the weekends I got to see her I was the voice of reason even at the age of 9, I was a child of rape and she was around my age when she had me. But she loved me, she loved me a fucking lot in her own twisted and confused way. From 16 to around 21 I lived with her, neglecting my condition, spending my government study pay checks on her and her needs with food, it was like I had swapped from being a caretaker for my grandmother to my mum. There was no personal space, everything of mine was hers, I wasn't allowed to have friends or talk to any family I had. I was depressed, really fucking depressed, and when she would get mad she would threaten kicking me out just to try and mooch off of me right after.

Around mid last year, I had finally gotten independence. Things were looking up, albeit I was a little short on money because I had finally found a friend to rent with and sort my shit out, but it was good, I was getting somewhere for once. I had blocked her number, under the guise that maybe once I had my own real place and money, I could eventually fix my relationship with my mum. Because deep down with all the anger and spite , through everything, I still loved her. She called me every single day, on multiple private numbers, on neighbours phones, on her rare friends phone or support worker phones. But I thought I had time, I thought I could finally for once in my shitty life be selfish. I was studying art theory, and then around this month I was supposed to be enrolled into a university level course for art, but now I have to abandon that.

On February 1st around 4pm, a couple hours before my birthday I got a call from a detective. She had killed herself with expired morphine, choking on her own vomit on the sofa. I've never felt grief like this, it was so fucking sudden. 40 is so young, man. A life stolen away. And after this, a couple days later I was kicked out, my phone broke with all my documents and memories (also locking me out of my bank, so I have quite literally no fucking money), and I have nothing anymore. My condition is flaring up constantly and I don't know how much more stress my heart can take. I was supposed to inherit her home, my childhood home, but I was denied. I'm going to most likely be Homeless, as whatever savings I had are gone and whatever it was, was far too little since I had only just become independent, with too little time to really get a stable amount.

I genuinely hate the fact that I've had to make a gofundme multiple times now, but it genuinely feels as if nothing ever changes or gets better. My life as of right now is a fucking neverending nightmare. I really am hopeless now, with no real chances of having anything and this was my last measure. I'm sorry for coming off pathetic, and I'm sorry for being in this situation. I really have no family whatsoever, very limited actually irl friends, and no support. I don't want to be homeless, I don't want to go blind from my condition.

Please don't be stressed to help out, whatever helps.

Putting proof of my condition here, alongside over time whatever other documents I get. I still have not issued a death certificate for my mum, but when I do I'll upload it here as well.

Also as a measure, I can try and do art in exchange whenever I am in a safe location. All I have is my laptop and my drawing bad anymore. This is around my skill level at the moment.