“He’s Never Recovered”: William Tyrrell’s Grandmother Breaks Down as She Reveals Shocking New Details and Her Son’s Descent Into Despair

More than a decade after the disappearance of three-year-old William Tyrrell, new and deeply distressing revelations have emerged from the boy’s biological grandmother, Natalie Collins, who has spoken out about the lasting devastation her family continues to endure — including the heartbreaking decline of William’s father, Brendan Collins.

In an exclusive interview, Natalie revealed details about the hours leading up to William’s abduction, her son’s mental health battle, and how the pain of that day has destroyed lives long after the search for the little boy went cold.

“He’s too far gone on drugs,” Natalie said quietly. “He doesn’t even know what day it is anymore.”

A Family Still Haunted by the Past

William Tyrrell vanished on September 12, 2014, from the front yard of his foster grandmother’s home in Kendall, NSW. Dressed in a Spider-Man suit, the three-year-old disappeared within minutes — sparking one of the largest and most complex manhunts in Australian history.

Despite years of investigation, public appeals, and renewed searches, no trace of William has ever been found. For Natalie and her family, the disappearance was not just a mystery — it was a wound that has never healed.

“That day destroyed us,” she said. “It broke something inside Brendan that will never be fixed.”

“He’s Raging Alone in His Bedroom”

Natalie says her son Brendan, now 35, has spiraled into a devastating cycle of addiction, paranoia, and grief since the loss of his son. Once described as a “sweet, funny, and gentle person,” Brendan is now barely recognizable.

“He started using ice,” she admitted. “He’s thin, disoriented — he talks to himself and doesn’t stop. He hoards kids’ clothes and toys. He buys presents for William’s birthdays even now.”

Natalie, her voice breaking, said she had watched helplessly as her son descended further into instability and addiction.

“He was always a good boy,” she said. “He didn’t drink or take drugs before William was taken. But after that, it was like something in him snapped. He was raging alone in his bedroom, talking to himself. He started calling me names — things he’d never said before. That’s not my Brendan. That’s the pain talking.”

Brendan’s Struggles Behind Bars

Brendan is now being held in Silverwater Prison in Sydney’s west, awaiting sentencing on minor charges. His mother says prison may have kept him alive — but insists he needs professional psychiatric care and drug rehabilitation, not punishment.

“He’s not a bad person,” Natalie said. “He’s a broken one. He needs real help. He needs to be somewhere safe where someone can treat him, not just lock him away.”

She fears her son’s fragile mental state could worsen if he is left untreated.

“He points and talks to himself. He’s paranoid. He’s not getting the help he needs,” she said. “He’s sick, not evil. He’s never got over that day.”

“He Never Got Over Watching His Son Taken Away”

Natalie recalled the day welfare workers removed William from Brendan and Karlie Tyrrell’s care. She said the moment still haunts her son — and marked the beginning of his emotional decline.

“He’s never really got over that day,” she said. “They were at a video store when it happened. One moment, they were just a family — and the next, he was gone.”

She insists her son wasn’t dangerous or violent, just young and struggling.

“He made mistakes,” she said. “But he loved that little boy more than anything. People don’t understand — he adored William. Losing him broke him in a way that no one can fix.”

The Last Goodbye

Natalie grew tearful as she recounted the final time Brendan and Karlie saw their son before he vanished.

“William clung to Brendan and cried, ‘Daddy, Daddy, I love you,’” she said. “That’s the last memory we have of them together. Brendan replays that moment over and over in his head.”

Natalie believes that the trauma of losing his son twice — first to the system, then to the unknown — pushed Brendan into despair.

“He just couldn’t cope,” she said. “He was full of guilt and anger. It ate away at him until there was nothing left.”

A Plea for Compassion

Natalie said she spoke publicly not to reignite old wounds, but to plead for help for her son and to remind people that William’s story isn’t just about mystery — it’s about real families still suffering.

“We were ordinary people who made mistakes,” she said. “Now my son is lost, my grandson is gone, and I don’t know how to fix any of it.”

She said she still senses William’s presence every day.

“Sometimes I’ll see a Spider-Man toy in a shop and have to walk away,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”

Natalie’s greatest fear now is that her son will die before ever finding peace — or before finding out what really happened to his little boy.

“He just needs help,” she said, tears welling. “Can someone please help us?”

Conclusion

Eleven years on, the William Tyrrell case remains unsolved. But for Natalie Collins and her son Brendan, the pain continues in quieter, more personal ways — through addiction, guilt, and a longing for answers that may never come.

“We’ve lost William,” Natalie said. “But I feel like I’m losing Brendan too.”