So my house was broken into (and some dude got in bed with my mom)

I started a new job this week. That's the good news.

Here's the bad news:
My house was broken into
THRICE
It was a close friend of mine
TWICE
and my mother was harassed in her room by one of the breakers-in
ONCE.

Context: Eric, a friend of mine, needed a place to stay on Monday. He wanted to stay for a few days, I could give him one night, what with work and all. He stayed that night comfortably and left sometime the following morning. I didn't see him for the following two days until wednesday night, when we hung out for about 2 hours. I had to get ready for work early in the morning and sent him packing around 9ish, heading to bed.

And now it gets weird.

Eric appeared in my room, half naked, at 2 AM. He was whispering to me that he was just part of my sub conscious and I'm pretty sure was coercing me into gay sex. I told him to go to bed in the adjoining room or get the fuck out, as I had work in the morning.

He wandered downstairs, and after several minutes of awakedness I decided to check on him. I'd heard the door in my mom's room open and close once or twice, assuming it was my mom just using the bathroom or something, so I held back an extra few minutes and went to the bottom floor.

He was sitting at the Kitchen table, by himself in the dark. We conversed briefly. He'd replaced his shirt. He said he just needed to do some thinking and was drinking what I assumed was a glass of water. I went back to bed because I figured he was just high or something.

I woke up the next morning, and he was lying on my couch in the room neighbouring our kitchen. I irritatedly barked at him to go upstairs and go to bed in the top floor. I prepared my breakfast as usual, and my Mom came downstairs a bit later than she typically does. Immediately, she struck me as anxious and freaked and interrupted my egg-making to ask/explain a few things.
Ma: Did you invite Eric over last night?
Me: No. He woke me up really early for some reason though.
Ma: Yeah, he got into my bed. While I was in it.
Me:[REDACTED]

We found a bottle of wine tucked under the kitchen table that he stole from us. I ripped him out of bed, yelled at him and kicked him out of my house. While I was at work all I could think about was how fucking stupid he was and what I'd do if he came back. I concluded with "Nobody. NOBODY is that fucking stupid."

Eric was that fucking stupid.

I walked home from work, an hour-long bout of exercise after the sedentary 8 hours that come with my new job's training.

Mom was home, cooking dinner. We reviewed how buttfuck ridiculous it was that Eric had done what he did. Shortly thereafter I went upstairs. I was on the computer for about 20 minutes, called Eric and I's mutual friend Aaron and talked to him about what had happened, pacing upstairs. Seeing a funny shape in the shadows of my old room, I clicked the light on.

And there was Eric.

He was huddled up against the wall, shushing me from a loud 'What the fuck is wrong with you?' hanging up on Aaron. He got to his feet and I yelled at him awhile, not even wanting to touch him. He claims he'd come back to gather the shit he'd left (a laptop, a shirt, a hoodie) and my mom had come in while he was trying to find them. At no point did he attempt to explain his shitshow of an appearance the previous night.

I stood him in a doorway, gathered his belongings, found ANOTHER opened bottle of wine and a little nest consisting of stolen food and a pile of ash (from weed he invited himself to smoke inside while no one was home). I yelled at him and his faggoty shit of a face tried to force tears. I shoved him downstairs, hurling epithets and hate much as I could and made it clear I'd kill him if I ever saw him again.

Eric has something very bad wrong with him, emotionally. I might just go and try to find him myself.