When I was seven years old, I watched as police carted my father out of the house and took him away. He had severe bipolar disorder and was experiencing what I know now to be an “episode” of this mental illness.
What I learned over the 40 years that my dad was alive is that he could foster a loving relationship despite not ever mastering his recurrent episodes. The answers to the rest of my many questions about my father’s illness were nowhere to be found.