Missteps with diagnosis, care, and self-acceptance of bipolar disorder turned into the insights that guide my wellness today.
I share my story because I want others to know they’re not alone — and because I’ve learned lessons I wish I’d known sooner. These are the regrets that shaped my recovery, and I offer them in the hope they might help someone else avoid similar pain.
What follows are some of the biggest lessons I’ve learned — and the regrets I hope others can avoid.
1. Not Accepting a Diagnosis
I was in the middle of a raging manic episode when I was first diagnosed. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder very quickly, but I couldn’t accept it. I knew little about mental illness and refused to believe I could be diagnosed with a serious condition so fast. I should have gotten a second opinion to confirm the diagnosis rather than dismissing it so hastily.
2. Not Waiting Long Enough to See if a Medication Was Effective
I was told that medication could help with my manic episode, but I wasn’t told how long it might take to work. I tried medication for a couple of weeks and abruptly stopped when I saw no effect. I should have asked my doctor how long to try a medication before judging it, and I should have asked about alternatives and next steps.
3. Stopping My Medication
I stopped my medication several times — when I felt better and when I felt it was holding me back on one of my hypomanic or manic missions. It had serious consequences, including involuntary hospitalizations. I should have realized I felt better because the medication was working and recognized warning signs, like those missions, as signals that I needed help. I should have understood the possible consequences of stopping treatment. My doctor should have explained those consequences more clearly.
4. Not Understanding That Depression Is Part of Bipolar
I thought bipolar was all about mania. I didn’t understand that depression is actually the more common state. I dismissed my depression as simply being sad and stayed in a deep depression for nearly six years before my next manic episode. I should have learned more from my doctor about how bipolar is truly experienced instead of relying on media portrayals.
5. Letting Myself Be Seduced by Hypomania
I loved hypomania. It made me feel alive after long periods of depression. I was active, creative, risk-taking, and social. It felt like the “me” that my bipolar illness had taken away — but it quickly dragged me into mania, where everything became uncontrollable. I let it take me there too many times before I realized it wasn’t who I really was. Now I am no longer seduced by it. When it comes, I know it’s time to get help.
6. Thinking It Wouldn’t Happen Again
I thought my first manic episode was a one-time event. I didn’t expect it to return, so I didn’t stay in treatment. I should have taken my bipolar disorder more seriously and made sure I had ongoing care.
7. Refusing to Believe My Life Had Changed
I spent years wishing I could return to the “former me.” I didn’t accept that bipolar had changed my life. Comparing myself with friends and colleagues who didn’t struggle with mental illness made me feel like a failure. I should have accepted those changes and developed coping strategies instead of remaining stuck.
8. Not Demanding Better Care Sooner
I accepted poor care for too long. I had one doctor I saw for five years who would fall asleep during my session. I convinced myself this was what I deserved. Another doctor told me, “You will never get better; your manic episodes will become stronger and more frequent.” I accepted that prognosis. I should have believed I deserved better care and looked for a clinician who offered hope and partnership.
9. Waiting Too Long to Find Recovery-Oriented Care
After 16 years, I finally found a doctor who helped me live my best life, not just manage my symptoms. I didn’t think that was possible. Embracing that care played a significant role in my recovery. I should have known I was worthy of compassionate treatment and sought it sooner, even if it meant starting over with a new doctor and rebuilding the relationship.
10. Not Listening to Difficult Advice
At many points during my illness, my loved ones tried to do what was best, including taking charge of my treatment. I felt I had lost control of my life and resented it deeply. I should have kept my voice in decisions while still listening to caring advice and accepting help.
11. Being Alone and Isolated
I lived in isolation for many years, sometimes not leaving home for weeks. I was ashamed and convinced nobody could understand me. After many years, I realized I was wrong. Joining a peer community was empowering — seeing others fight for and achieve recovery showed me what was possible.
12. Not Seeking a Life of Meaning Sooner
I didn’t know what “meaning” was. I thought it meant “earnings.” All my life I had worked hard to achieve this, but didn’t realize it was making me miserable and contributing to my illness. Now I fill my life with purpose, especially through my nonprofit, Psych Ward Greeting Cards, where people with mental illness donate cards that I deliver to patients in psychiatric wards. I don’t earn money from this work, but it has been a gift for me and a key way I share my hope for recovery. It has given my bipolar journey purpose and meaning.
13. Waiting for My Life to Change
Life doesn’t change unless you work on it. I waited and waited for things to get better. I was passive and didn’t recognize that I could change my circumstances. Eventually, I realized I couldn’t wait for bipolar to disappear or for episodes to stop. I had to be active in my care — set goals and pursue them.
14. Not Recognizing Bipolar’s Strengths
For many years, I believed bipolar would only hold me back — that it was a liability. I now see that I’m part of a community of great courage and strength. Bipolar also helped me clarify the life I truly want.
15. Believing I Was Unlovable
For many years, I felt unloved — and worse, unlovable. I feared abandonment and being left all alone. I didn’t see that my family’s focus on my illness was often how they tried to love me during those difficult times. Yet, they could also have focused more on me as a whole person and on supporting my recovery. I now help parents understand how their loved ones feel through this illness, and they help me, too. I know now my family never stopped loving the “true me,” and our love has deepened through this journey.
I offer these regrets not as blame but as lessons — small signposts I wish I’d had. If any part of this resonates, please know recovery is possible and that asking for better care, connection, and clarity is worth the effort.