ABSTRACT
From February to July, 1990, I spoke on the phone several times a week with a close relative I will call Dylan. It was a time of enormous upheaval in Dylan's life. His wife was divorcing him, and she was doing it with more than the usual venom-—including making serious threats to prevent him from ever again seeing his two young children, who were the lights of his life. Nearly every time we spoke, he wept. He was inconsolable, and he was medicating the condition with anti-depressants and alcohol.
