It happened to various degrees at various times, with periods of forgetfulness (thinking I was over it "like a flu") many times along the way. Despite my official bipolar diagnosis at 32, I only uttered the words "I have manic depression" the first time while sitting in Human Resources with my boss and the director of HR a minute after they threatened to fire me if I didn't get help. That was after six people waged formal complaints against me to HR. The next day I was in the hospital for the first of 10 times. That was at 34.

Acceptance doesn't always fully happen with uttered words. It took years to really accept. I went through stages of bereavement thinking I was the illness. Luckily that passed. It's hard finding the "you" in a lifetime of untreated bipolar. But I did. Maybe around 43 or 44. I accept that I "have" an illness called bipolar disorder (or manic depression), but it no longer has me as it did before.

It's a long history and journey.