I was diagnosed about 6 years ago. For the longest time, my doctor simply put episodic mood disorder… it was not until switching doctors and going through the worst depression of my life that I was finally given the diagnosis of bipolar. I still have times where I feel weak and unprepared to deal with my illness. Then, I think back to some of the darkest moments…. where I didn’t care if I lived or died (I wasn’t suicidal just indifferent)… and then I remember the awesome support and love my family gave me. My husband has never been the most supportive when it came to my treatment but he surprised me. He  gave me the strength to pull through when I could not see any other way except to give up. I have been blessed to have the family that I have. I am not the only”special” one in the family either. We take each day as it comes and we are always just a phone call away from one another. I remind myself daily to stay strong and remember that I am not alone.

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