Acknowledgments

Writing a book of this kind would have been impossible without the support and advice of my friends, family, and colleagues. Certainly it would have been impossible without the excellent medical care I have received over the years from Dr. Daniel Auerbach; he has been, in every way, an excellent and deeply compassionate doctor. I owe him not only my life, but an important part of my education as a clinician as well.

No one has been more influential in my decision to be open about my manic-depressive illness than Frances Lear, a longtime friend and generous supporter of my work. She has encouraged and made possible my mental health advocacy work and is, in many significant respects, responsible for my decision to write this book. Her support and belief in my work have made a critical difference in what I have been able to do during the past eight years.

Several other friends have been particularly important. I am deeply indebted to David Mahoney for his support, many long and helpful conversations, and marvelous friendship. Dr. Anthony Storr has been one of the most important people in my life, and I am very grateful to him for our relationship. Lucie Bryant and Dr. Jeremy Waletzky, both close friends for many years, have been unbelievably kind and generous with their support. John Julius Norwich has, for some time, encouraged me to discuss my manic-depressive illness more openly, and repeatedly stressed his belief that good will come from writing such a book; he has countered all of my arguments for privacy with yet stronger ones for straightforwardness. He has been a wonderful friend, and I am indebted to him for his persuasiveness. Peter Sacks, a poet and professor of English at Johns Hopkins, read over all of the drafts of this book, made many invaluable suggestions, and gave me much needed encouragement. I cannot thank him enough for the time and care he took with my work. Many other people have provided friendship over the years, and several of them were kind enough to read early drafts of my manuscript as well: Dr. and Mrs. James Ballenger, Dr. Samuel Barondes, Robert Boorstin, Dr. Harriet Braiker, Dr. Raymond De Paulo, Antonello and Christina Fanna, Dr. Ellen Frank, Dr. and Mrs. Robert Gallo, Dr. Robert Gerner, Dr. Michael Gitlin, Mrs. Katharine Graham, Congressman and Mrs. Steny Hoyer, Charles and Gwenda Hyman, Earl and Helen Kindle, Dr. Athanasio Koukopoulos, Dr. David Kupfer, Alan and Hannah Pakula, Dr. Barbara Parry, Dr. and Mrs. Robert Post, Victor and Harriet Potik, Dr. Norman Rosenthal, William Safire, Stephen E. Smith, Jr., Dr. Paula Stoessel, Dr. PerVestergaard, Dr. and Mrs. James Watson, and Professor Robert Winter.

During very difficult times in Los Angeles, Dr. Robert Faguet was an extraordinary friend; as I have written, he looked after me during my absolute darkest days, and he did so with great grace and wit. My former husband, Alain Moreau, also was remarkably kind and loyal during those days, and I am grateful to him for our continuing and close relationship. Drs. Frederick Silvers, Gabrielle Carlson, and Regina Pally in quite different ways helped keep me going during those long, terrible months. Later, when David Laurie died, several people in England were exceptionally kind, and they have remained friends over the years: Colonel and Mrs. Anthony Darlington, Colonel James B. Henderson, the late Brigadier Donald Stewart, his wife, Margaret, and Ian and Christine Mill.

The chairman of my department at Johns Hopkins, Dr. Paul McHugh, has been singularly supportive, as was, earlier, Dr. Louis Jolyon West, chairman of psychiatry during the time I was on the medical school faculty at the University of California, Los Angeles. I will always owe a great personal as well as intellectual debt to the two men who were my mentors when I was an undergraduate and graduate student, Professors Andrew L. Comrey and the late William H. McGlothlin. I have learned more than I can say, or adequately acknowledge, from both my students and my patients.

I, like many others, was devastated by the death in 1994 of publisher Erwin Glikes. He was not only a remarkable intellect and a profoundly wise human being, he was also a close friend. He published my book Touched with Fire, and I found it virtually impossible to imagine entrusting something as personal as these memoirs to anyone else. Fortunately, I was able to work with Carol Janeway at Knopf. She has been everything one could wish for in an editor: deeply intuitive, extremely intelligent, witty, and unrelenting in her determination to make the book a more complete and better one. It has been a pleasure and privilege to work with her. Dan Frank, the excellent editor of Chaos, lent his formidable editing abilities to a somewhat different kind of chaos, and helped give structure to this book. Working with the staff at Knopf has been delightful. Maxine Groffsky has been a wonderful literary agent—warm, lively, engaged, perceptive, supportive—and I am grateful that Erwin Glikes introduced us.

I am indebted to Oxford University Press for granting me permission to use material that I had written first for teaching purposes, and then incorporated—as a few brief clinical description passages—into a book I coauthored with Dr. Frederick Goodwin, Manic-Depressive Illness. Mr. William Collins, who typed my manuscript, was invaluably accurate, reliable, pleasant, and intelligent.

I have discussed my family at some length in this book. All meaningful relationships are complicated, but I cannot imagine choosing any family other than the one I have: my mother, Dell Temple Jamison; my father, Dr. Marshall Jamison; my brother, Dr. Dean Jamison; my sisters, Phyllis, Danica, and Kelda; my sister-in-law, Dr. Joanne Leslie; my nephews, Julian and Eliot Jamison; and my niece, Leslie Jamison.

My debt to my husband, Dr. Richard Wyatt, is beyond words. He encouraged me to write this book, supported me through all of my doubts and anxieties about doing so, read each draft of my manuscript, and made many helpful suggestions that I took to heart. I am grateful to him for a love that has endured, grown, and been wonderful.