“You will never hold a job again,” the psychiatrist said. I was 38 years old. I said I was sure I was not bipolar. “Because you are,” she said. “You can’t self diagnose. I assure you, you will never work again, period. Your wife will divorce you if you don’t help yourself by applying for disability.” Despite the twelve daily pills she had me on, I stood my ground. My wife kicked me out, keeping our dog. I stopped the pills, earned a master’s degree, and worked seventy-hour weeks in a new career. I remarried. I still miss the dog.
Howard Dart Humeston is a former university administrator and adjunct faculty who writes novels, short fiction, and poetry. He is married and lives in Florida.