Growing up in the San Fernando Valley was a delight. It seemed that summertime lasted forever and our little home in Sherman Oaks was the center of a wonderful universe from which I began to explore. The front yard was big and it was lined by trees, which I soon began climbing. I was a
I wrote about my early experiences visiting my father in the mental hospital. Our home attracted death like a magnet. The same year my father went to Camarillo, a close friend of the family shot himself. I remember going to the service, confused and afraid, but no one talked about why he died. Yet, everyone
“Kids have a hole in their soul in the shape of their dad. And if a father is unwilling or unable to fill that hole, it can leave a wound that is not easily healed.” Roland Warren. I was five years old when my uncle drove me to the mental hospital. I was confused and
I have a particular interest in preventing mid-life marriage meltdown, a problem that is becoming I increasingly prevalent today. My first marriage came to an end when I was 33 years old. We had two children and had thought our marriage would last forever. I healed the wounds of love and loss and eventually fell
Most people don’t know I’m bipolar. Even if you had known me when I was the most out-of-control you probably wouldn’t have been aware that anything was wrong.
Depression and mental illness carries a different meaning than physical illness, although we now know that they really can’t be separated.
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