I would like to start off with a story from a group. This was a group that ran for 24 years at the hospital where I worked, although of course I was the only person in it who was there all the way through. Patients do sometimes get better, but group analysts just carry on. This is about halfway through, it is several years ago, and the group did give permission to write about them, but still I have changed the details. One patient in the group was a very clever, eloquent man with severe long-lasting manic-depressive illness for which he took a mood stabilizer and anti-depressants. He had had admissions in the past. When he was low, he could be dangerously suicidal, and when he was high, he could be angry and grating and omnipotent. If he came high to the group, they would know immediately and tell him forcefully what he was doing, and he would often calm down. He was clever and well read, not well enough to work, but with many interests and a deep commitment to a range of unconventional religious beliefs. He was also the child of old-style communist parents, and he and his siblings felt always that their parents cared more about the international working class than they ever did their children. Similarly, in the group, he either idealized me at a distance or, more often, found me unkind and useless, the sort of therapist, he thought, who, like his parents, cared more about the group than about him. One day, when he was quite well, he was talking about his intense 736724G AQ0010.