My brother was very sympathetic when I was finally diagnosed. He told me he'd all along suspected I was "different" in the same way that our mother was "different."

I live a very long way away from my brother, so my nieces never come to visit me. It's always me going to visit them. Yes... I guess you're right... he's obviously angry with her. She was very difficult towards the end, and he had to bear the brunt of it, since I was at university, and she'd driven my Dad out of the house. I was home when she took her overdose, but he was home for the months before hand, living hand to mouth and cadging cooked dinners from friends because there was never any food in the house. I had a bit of that, but then I got to escape and go to uni. My brother went too, after my mother died, but the year of his A levels was just an unmitigated nightmare. I suppose I should bear in mind that it hurt him perhaps more than anyone else... particularly because he was her favourite. I imagine he still can't quite believe that she left him.