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I feel sad that my life has been stunted because of my BD. I always knew, from a very young age, that I was "different" than other kids. Extremely sensitive to my environment, and sometimes in another world. Severe depression and extreme anxiety were always there, and I was aware that other children didn't live with such feelings. But I had rages that were as intense as "that thing" that would sometimes lift me as high as the sky.
I did well with going to a community college, because when I needed to I could skip class or drop a class, but doing such things as going to a real university and creating a career was, I was well aware, not possible for me because of how I functioned (or didn't).
When I received my diagnosis of BD and PTSD - as I recall I was in my mid-30's - I felt relieved. I can remember the face of the pdoc who diagnosed me, even though I cannot recall his name. I finally had answers as to why - and it wasn't my fault! It wasn't, as they had told me all the way through school, that I "wasn't trying enough"...or that "I had so much potential, why didn't I use itt"? Always I was at fault. But with the diagnosis I was free to start working toward healing. Maybe I would never graduate from university, but I could roll up my sleeves and put the hours and energy into improving and stabilizing my life. In addition, I belonged to quite an elite group! So many of the greatest poets, writers, artists; many of the greatest minds ever known to humanity had BD. I had always been deeply into writing and creating art; I remember after being dx'ed that I knew what was meant by an "artistic personality" - it meant, in most cases, bipolar disorder.
It's a rough ride for sure, but I've met SO many amazing people along the way. I hate the side effects of meds; still, I'm grateful for meds. Maybe I really am crazy, but I don't think I'd give up my BD, because it would be like trading myself in for a cheaper model.
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