My father was diagnosed with Bipolar 1 long after my mother and him got a divorce. He was extremely abusive, verbally, emotionally, physically. I was diagnosed with bipolar 1 at 17, my father was diagnosed a few years later. That's when it all started to make sense.

Unfortunately my father never wanted to get better or at least never made any real attempts. I reconnected with him once briefly but that failed. He commit Suicide a few years later. It's very sad because I know that he gave up, I know what he was going through too. I'm not sure if that's where I get part of my strength to never give up from. Knowing his diagnoses made forgiving him a lot easier for me. My sisters not so much as they try but don't really understand how bipolar feels. For me I van chalk a lot of it up to that fact that he was ill, I can look back and see it so clearly.

He didn't have a clue he was mentally ill. He had no insight and I think even after his diagnosis he still did not accept or try to find any insight, that part is harder to swallow, but I understand.