Brother had no history of mental health problems growing up.
We had excellent relationship, (5 years between us) visiting each other at uni, welcoming each other into the others friendship groups etc.
He developed a skin condition, a bit like eczema, called red skin syndrome (related to overuse of topical steroids) and spent about 5 years going through an awful withdrawal process (age 25-30). He was living at home with our mother during this time, having given up work. He wasn't believed by the medical profession that it was a withdrawal process, and many dermatologists suggested further use of topical steroids. It was an appalling physical process to watch and he was very ill. I supported him the best I could throughout this process, although with working and having 2 young toddlers at the time I couldn't always be there for him. It was also difficult to know if him going against all medical advice was the correct treatment for him. He is extremely intelligent and was second guessing the doctors constantly. I am more inclined to follow instructions as per medical advice.
He then started to see his skin improve eventually. At this point he seemed to develop depression/anxiety traits.
He also started to turn on me and my husband, saying we hadnt supported him, or believed him about his diagnosis. He claimed we did nothing for him to help him (I flew back from holiday once to go and help look for him as he threatened suicide and ended up hiding out on the local common, the police eventually found him). He suffered psychotic episodes. One time when I was with him, he put his hands around my neck and began to squeeze. He was always included in family events by my wonderful in laws, but would often turn nasty at them and start accusing my in-laws of not supporting him (he had also kindly been given accommodation by them in their house when he was going through an obsession about allergies in his own house).
My mum tried so hard to support him throughout this process. She had been widowed when I was 13 and had done a great job bringing us up, but I often had to step into the parenting boots during that time, as she also had physical issues from a stroke.
He also had my grandmother removed from her own home (the house was shared between my mother and her mother as they were both widowed) and put into a care home (she was displaying early signs of dementia but certainly didn't need a care home at that stage), mainly because he hated her and couldn't bear to live with her. As I had moved out many years before it was difficult to intervene as I didn't have the full picture. In hindsight I can see what happened.
Over the last 5 years my mum gave up everything for him to try and help him rebuild his life. The effect on her was monumental. She constantly cancelled plans to see me and her grandchildren, even for things like her own birthday celebrations. I would message him on a regular basis to ask if he wanted to meet up, if he needed anything, but conscious of the fact that by this point I was actually scared of him and didn't want to be alone with him in any setting (aggression was always directed at me, not my mum or my in-laws). He would generally ignore my messages anyway or hide away in the house when I came round to pick my mum up. He would regularly try to turn her against me and she occasionally had to come and stay with us to get away from the toxic atmosphere in her house.
During this time my mum had a hospital spell for a badly broken leg. She was in for weeks. He only visited once.
She then developed bowel cancer. Luckily this was treated fairly easily. My brother convinced her to lie to me about the cancer so I didn't find out until a year later that she had it. I was under the impression that her colostomy bag was being fitted due to severe ulcerative colitis. Again no visits for her in hospital from him, not even on Christmas day.
Sadly the cancer reoccurred, and spread very quickly. She spent 3 months in hospital. He maybe visited her once. I tried to visit most days. It was the most awful thing I have experienced. She eventually died this February, I got to be with her as she went. My brother refused to come, despite contact from everyone who knew him. On the same day that she died, he was sectioned after frantic calls from me to his psychiatrist and the crisis team. Although eventually he went in voluntarily, so he was able to leave a few days later of his own free will. During his stay in hospital I visited the house to get mum's paperwork to start organising the funeral etc. The house was in absolute squalor. Dog poo on the floor. Vodka bottles everywhere (he is an alcoholic).
By this point our relationship was non existent.
Fats forward 6 months and he is in and out of hospital (general hospital), often for alcohol withdrawal and associated issues. He's had a few aggressive phone calls with my husband. I've had messages blaming me for mum's death. I've also just been through a bowel cancer scare myself, luckily I'm OK. I panic whenever my phone rings in case it is him, hands shaking, heart racing sort of thing.
I'm now getting messages from a well-meaning friend of my mum's, saying something needs to be done, now, as he has just been sent home from hospital back to truly horrific living conditions. Which is all well and good, but what on earth am I supposed to do? I can't solve any of his problems. He's so far down the black hole that I haven't a clue how to help him. The medical profession haven't been able to help, his psychiatrist is lovely but overstretched, as are social services, and I just feel utterly helpless. I barely know him anymore, so it's like being asked to help a total stranger. The only thing that has helped my sanity over the past six months whilst I try to grieve for my mum, and stress about my own health, is reducing contact with him. His friends are rarely in contact with him anymore. We have a few cousins dotted around but basically, he has no one because he has alienated everybody. I understand that mental health problems can do this to a person, but the fallout of his problems on everybody else has been absolutely massive, and people just don't have the time or energy for him any more. It's so incredibly sad, and I feel desperately sorry for him, but I don't see how he will ever get better. I feel incredibly guilty, but also incredibly angry with him for everything he's done. How do you distinguish between actions caused by mental health issues and other actions? It's all blended in to one for me.
Any advice very welcome. At some point the house that he has trashed will need to be sold, but that's a story for another time as it's unsellable right now anyway.
Feeling sorry for myself right now and wondering if I could/should have done more...
Sorry this is so long 😬 well done if you get to the end!