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It was about six years after I was diagnosed and received social security disability for my mental illness that I accepted that I was bipolar. For all those years I thought that I only had PTSD and that my pdoc was doing me a 'favor' by saying I had bipolar to help me get disability.
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The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well. anonymous
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