I was so much in denial that I tried to blame everything on an existential crisis for almost three years. I also thought life had been more or less OK before meds and wondered if they were making me crazy instead of making me better, and I asked myself time and time again if I was just making it all up. WRONG on all counts. Being hospitalized in October 2014 broke through the wall I'd built up and shattered any illusions I had about the nature of the beast. It also made me realize that this was never going to go away; all I could do was manage it. And I have managed it pretty well since then...while I've been depressed and anxious lately over the approaching loss of my husband, I haven't had a real bipolar episode in over a year.