Kind of out of the blue, I find myself wishing I would have found a pdoc back in 2019 when I first thought "if this isn't bipolar disorder, I don't know what is." I can see I was to caught up in the manic (hypomanic?) thoughts that God was calling me to reform a certain corrupt organization. So, I followed where God "wanted" me to go and, instead of seeking treatment, ended up joining this emotionally and spiritually abusive group for a year and a half, with my time there ending in a very traumatic way.

I'm trying to find a way to grieve what was lost by being diagnosed in Sept. 2021 instead of 2019 without spiraling or completely beating myself up about it. The temptation is to be really hard on myself.

This will be a good think to talk with my counselor and pdoc about, but I don't see either of them for a few weeks.