I didn't realize. My best friend at the time was the first person to realize it. He said something and we talked, and then not more than a week later my T brought it up that I might be bipolar, and during that time I was looking at symptoms and said 'huh, that makes sense' and I got a pdoc appointment scheduled where the end point was a diagnosis of BP II.

That's different from acceptance. It's been 5 years and I still haven't fully accepted that I'm bipolar. I know it to be true, but I want so badly for it not to be that I have this little fantasy world in which I'm not that I sometimes live in.