When I was growing up, I earned a reputation for having a hot head. My dad used to look at me and say I was so angry he could fry an egg on the top of my head. So when bipolar disorder decided to set up shop in my home, we had a formula for disaster – my wife’s mania made her wicked, and my first instinct was to fight back. The result was the equivalent of a tropical storm quickly transforming into a Category 5 hurricane with plenty of energy to keep it raging for weeks on end.

I recently accompanied my wife to an appointment with her therapist, Lucy. It was Cecie's first therapy appointment since being released from the hospital as the result of a serious manic episode.