Coming to terms with a diagnosis is hard. When I was first diagnosed I went through a period of intense research into the subject. I learned a lot, and more than anything I learned to accept it as part of my life. I also accepted the fact that I will likely be on psych meds until I die. So be it.

These days I don't really give a rip about learning more. I feel I've got a handle on what the disease is, and after 20+ years of being diagnosed there's not much left to care about. I deal with the moods as they come, work with my doc on med combos, and try to live life to the best of my abilities. I don't really care about the label anymore. Not many people I come in contact with know about it. I have a couple close friends, my wife, and my family. That's about it. It's not something I make known at work, although there is a push at my work these days of mental health awareness. Evidently the most prescribed drugs in my company's insurance plan is psych meds. That let's me know I'm not alone in my suffering.

Anyway, I say live life the best you can. We play the hand we're dealt. There are others who have it much worse than we do.