I'm in the same place, curiousity.

Being diagnosed later in life makes me so angry. I would have gone for a degree in English. I would have already been published and have a string of books istead of only five. My post partum depression was so severe that they took my son away when he was six weeks old. I couldn't stand the crying and would yell at him.

Those of you who have been diagnosed early on are lucky. You might take issue with this, but you have been saved years of the sad and dangerous life of the unmedicated bipolar. Street drugs and alcohol were the only things that could calm me. Once I was so drunk I fell out of a speeding car and fractured my skull and broke my ear drum. It was only through the grace of my ever present angels that I didn't get run over as well.

Bad choices in lifestyle and in men made life a living hell. And I am always a little bit jealous when people in here talk about their families. I might have chosen a decent man and have grandchildren and relatives that did not deny my very existence.

So I am right there with you, girl. It's impossible to make up for those lost years. All I can do now is take my meds, do my work and try to find friends that would be okay if I disclosed.

You are my family now.