I knew over a decade before I was actually diagnosed - never saw a need to go in for meds as I wanted to prove to myself that I could manage on my own!
Had been doing a lot of reading and was like "... oh yeah that sure sounds like me! But my hypomanias would be way too mild so maybe not" and thus went on with my merry life, depressions and all! I developed rules and guidelines for myself that I stick to pretty well (I'm pretty disciplined, stubborn and practical which helps me a looooot, along with my baseline being pretty reserved and careful!)
Finally decided to go and get antidepressants last year in anticipation of a rough year ahead, and I'd been stuck in and out of some really annoying depressions. So in I was to see a doctor and just disclosed the information about myself pertaining to depression and not worrying at all about the ups... to then have a spectacular reaction to the antidepressants and spent like two months SUPER wired and more hypomanic than I've ever, ever been. I was rather nuts.
So in I had to go to see a psychiatrist. I basically knew the results and was open about it, and he agreed with me.
I just accept that I'm me, and that "me" contains some stupid ***** depressions, and some rather fun hyper times. I don't really see anything wrong with me being me, although I do wish that the depressions would knock it off and that my self-esteem would be better. The label itself is rather nonimportant to me, although I don't disclose it to anyone outside of my friends due to the stigma.
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"The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things. Of shoes, of ships, of sealing wax, of cabbages, of kings! Of why the sea is boiling hot, of whether pigs have wings..."
"I have a problem with low self-esteem. Which is really ridiculous when you consider how amazing I am.
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