I was five years old when my uncle drove me to the mental hospital. I was confused and afraid.             “Why do I have to go?” I asked Uncle Harry.             He turned his head towards me and smiled. “Your father needs you.”             “What’s the matter with him?” I was beginning to cry,

I’ll be 75 years old this year. My wife, Carlin, will be 80. Even our 5 children are rushing past mid-life. We’ve all had health challenges that we talk about with family, friends, and our health-care providers. But there’s one problem that remains hidden. It’s depression and bipolar disorder. My father suffered from them for

I have been dealing with depression for 70 years now. My book, describing my own healing journey, begins with these words “I was five years old when my uncle drove me to the mental hospital.” He was taking me to see my father who had been committed to Camarillo State Mental hospital after taking an