Q: When you received your Bipolar diagnosis, were you relieved to finally have a name for what you suffer from?

A: No, I mourned my ignorance instead.

Q: At first, did you feel you’d been labeled, or diagnosed?  

A: Labeled.  And later, the crushing weight I felt by having to carry around both a label and a diagnosis sent me spiraling into another depression.


When I get into these maudlin moods, what I pine for are the days when I didn’t know I am Bipolar.   Everything seemed more carefree back then.  There was a time when I could wake up in the morning and just ask myself once, “What mood am I going to be in today?”and ride it out and adapt to it, and think all the while that this was what everyone else does.  No label, no stigma in the back of my mind, no diagnosis that would force me to check in and care about my mood and med several times each day.   Whether or not the pre-diagnosis days were really simpler is a moot point.  At this time, it feels like thy were and that only adds to the mourning I have for those times of ignorance.  Especially now, when agoraphobia has decided to rear its ugly head and complicate matters even more.

Does anyone else out there mourn the times before you knew you were Bipolar?  No matter how much better the pharmaceutical intervention can make me feel, there’s never quite been a time since D(iagnosis) Day that I don’t wish things were somewhat back to the way they were.  Because for me, in a lot of regards, ignorance was bliss.