Writing the book was therapeutic, but he says its message is most important. Bipolar Shoes -- People Do Matter is an investment of three years of creating, writing and working hard to make his dream happen.

"By telling my story, I wanted to inspire people and make a difference in the way we perceive bipolar disorder," he said. The work is a personal road map as much as it is a book, with joy and despair colliding, sometimes with nuclear effect, as O'Riordan steers along a winding road to awareness.

From his days growing up in County Cork, Ireland, to years after emigrating to Canada with his parents, he skillfully structures the complex picture of a life that would suddenly come apart along a lonely stretch of Alberta highway in 1994. That was when, "out of the blue," he hired a cab to take him from Calgary to Edmonton. Well into the drive, O'Riordan experienced a sudden awareness that he was God. He had seen the light, and in a flash of inspiration had the meaning of life down pat. He wasn't aware of it then, but he had slipped into the manic phase of bipolar disorder.

It was the beginning of a mental breakdown that would lead to a month-long stay in a mental health institution and the start of a painful journey toward healing. O'Riordan never liked school and quit after Grade 9, preferring paid work to classrooms.There was no shortage of jobs in the early years. Despite his lack of formal education, he had high energy, a quick wit and was not afraid of hard work. He worked for his dad making packing cases and later landed well-paying warehousing and shipping jobs.

His careers were relatively unaffected by his increasing periods of depression. They were sometimes severe, but the self-medication of a few stiff Jameson's and numerous pints of Guinness seemed to carry him through until the darkness passed."I guess I ignored mental health and always thought it was a sign of weakness. Like many, I just toughed the pain out."

He was on his second marriage and had three young daughters by the time he hailed that cab in 1994.

"Just like that, I knew I was God. Why I would have taken a cab, I have no idea. All I knew is that I got the taxi driver to pull over on the highway, left my wallet on the front seat and started walking back to Calgary," he said."There was about $1,000 in the wallet, but what did I need with money? I was God."

This manic stage of his bipolar condition was the graduation from being helplessly depressed to being electrified with energy. The night he thought he was God, it was -30 C, with a fierce wind. If it hadn't been for the alert cab driver calling the police, O'Riordan could have died along that highway. He was 33.

The month spent in the Alberta mental health facility proved to be an eye opener. At first he felt scared, confused and embarrassed to be a patient. As he became more familiar with his surroundings, he began to feel at ease."It was more like sanctuary than a hospital. The staff was wonderful and supportive. They made me feel like a person who mattered."

After he left hospital, he walked away from his Calgary business, filed for divorce and bankruptcy, both for the second time, and started life with a clean slate. He married again in 2000, but the marriage lasted only four years, and once again O'Riordan fell into the abyss of depression.

It was after he connected with Heather, a friend in Humboldt he had met on the Internet, that life began to look a little brighter. Their friendship turned to love."After a year of commuting every second weekend, I decided that instead of moving Heather and her children to Edmonton I'd move to Humboldt."

Two years ago, he married Heather, who has become his closest ally in his fight against bipolar disorder. She was the one who encouraged him to write Bipolar Shoes.There have been setbacks in his recovery, but mental health professionals in both Humboldt and Saskatoon have always been there for him. He says everyone who works in the mental health field is an unsung hero.

O'Riordan says he never let his illness be an excuse not to be productive, so he made the book his job. It will not be his last."I was one of the many who thought mental illness was a weakness. I now can say it's a sign of strength for me. My goal is to ease this stigma one book at a time."