What I really regret is that I used to think bipolar could be controlled by trying hard. I was diagnosed by an internationally known pdoc specializing in bipolar. He told me that he was surprised I'd managed to keep a job (I was about 2 years into my career) and that I had a severe case of bipolar that with the meds available at that time could be calmed but that I wouldn't have a cure. He was less blunt than that, barely, but I've known since the day I was definitively diagnosed that I had a lot to fight.

The thing is that I used to think fighting was all it took. Sure I was working on 3 hours of sleep and had a hard time doing parts of my job (paperwork, I was always buried) but the parts I deemed most important (how the patients responded to me, that my patients improved) I was good at. I was good at paperwork too but very black and white so it took me a lot of extra time to feel it was done properly. I had to go out on disability a number of times and vocational rehab told me I should go on disability years before I actually did. My pdoc and therapist never said I'd have to quit eventually but I knew I wasn't likely to have a 30 year career. However I thought I could make it work for a long time.

What I regret is the arrogance I felt then. My pdoc told me I was the highest functioning patient for the severity of the illness that she had ever treated. I thought that meant I was always going to find a way to keep doing what I wanted to do. When I first was on PC under a name I had completely forgotten using until a search for an unusual med popped up my own posts, I didn't even come to this forum or if I did I didn't post. I was handling things well and I guess I thought I didn't really belong.

Looking back now I was really in my last few years working. When things fell apart it happened rapidly. And anything I would have contributed then would have been more like "try to do things the way I have; see what a success I've been". I hope it would have been more kind in my wording but it was what I secretly would have felt.

Now I know that I should have appreciated the years I could work more. I should have seen them as the gift they were and not something I was entitled to. I should not have taken being able to live without support for granted. I'm 41 and need my mom's help and will probably always need some help. I have goals but they are hard to meet because I never know how I'll feel one day to the next. There are things I'd like to do but I can't commit and I worry that will always be true. I don't really have a vision of my future.

But what I've learned is that nobody ever really has an honest view of the future. Anyone of us can wind up in so many different situations. And I am sorry to anyone who I would have been judging back in my days of doing that; I guess the joke is on me because I judged myself too harshly and a lot of bad things came into my life because of that. Now it's ok again and I hope I never lose sight of "doing the best I can do, whatever that means".