Even someone with a mental illness so severe that she screams at strangers and throws herself into traffic, certain that cars will stop for her, can find her way back to the sunshine of reality. And if she can, so can others.

Michael Greenberg says as much in his memoir "Hurry Down Sunshine." His daughter Sally did all those things the summer before her sophomore year in high school. Today, she leads a life of structure and calm, although her inner sunshine is sometimes clouded by the possibility of relapse.

What made the difference for Sally? Chemical and psychological treatment for bipolar disorder, support from her family, her own courage and hard work.

Greenberg writes with precision and depth of almost unfathomable problems. Are the drugs that are retrieving his daughter's mind destroying her personality? Did he cause her illness by pushing her when she had problems learning to read? Is their stress-filled home city of New York toxic? Should Sally tell school friends about her illness?

Greenberg knows every family must make its own decisions. But with the account of how his own loved ones coped, he provides a comforting companion.

He shares the verbal digs, shouting matches and the doors banged in anger. He also describes moments of great tenderness and forgiveness.

When Sally's brother Aaron, a college student, visits her, she tells him acid caused her bizarre behavior. "Why would she lie to me?" Aaron asks his father.

Greenberg answers, "She may have thought she was keeping you safe. ... She figures we can't handle the truth. Her truth."

Aaron replies, "She's right. I can't."

Sally told her father she wanted her name used in this book. She has been ill a dozen years now, long enough to know that going public will cause some people to question her every thought and action. She must know deep down that she is no more responsible for her disease than a diabetic. But pride and shame can make that realization difficult. As her father notes, even language conspires against it. We say a person "has" diabetes, but a person "is" bipolar.

Her decision gave her father the narrative power of truth. Since her 15th summer, medicines that brought her years of peace have failed and been replaced by others that could conceivably fail, too. But Sally is determined to anticipate and head off the worst bouts. "Least," she says, "they drop you to the ground like you would when caught in the crossfire of a shootout."

"Hurry Down Sunshine" is emotionally honest and has an ability to dispense hope that a fictionalized account would not. A page turner, it is a great read even for those with no compelling interest in mental illness.

Theresa Tighe retired last year after 26 years as a reporter for the Post-Dispatch.