Then her son, the bright, handsome musician, had a major breakdown. He came home from college and curled up on his bed in the fetal position. When people came to visit, they asked about him, and wondered why he never came out. His mother would turn beet red then, but it was far worse when he did come out. Always a quiet and rail-thin blond, he was now coarse and overweight. He would sit in the living room in a funk, insulting his mother’s visitors, several times driving them from the house. This went on for years. There was a seemingly endless succession of psychiatrists, mental institutions,
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