I was diagnosed in late February, after going through a mixed episode that started in mid-December and ended just a few weeks ago. Actually, I'd been gradually decompensating over the past 3 years or so and didn't want to acknowledge it, not even after I started getting into different kinds of trouble. (Of course, it was always someone else's fault...)

I'd suspected I was bipolar for years before this, but I didn't really want to know for sure; it was just easier---to say nothing of more socially acceptable---to allow myself to be labeled 'depressed' and given ADs, which either worked for a little while (Paxil, Prozac) or made me manic (Wellbutrin).

I didn't want this diagnosis. But now that it's "official" and I'm learning to accept it, it's actually a good thing to be able to wrap a word around the anxiety, confusion, irritability, rage, exuberation, depression, sadness, despair, and fear that I've been dealing with for most of my life.