Questioning my Diagnosis

I frequent a forum for Bipolar Disorder. I usually read the entries daily and rarely respond. I find comfort reading that others are struggling like I am. So I read their struggles knowing that I can relate to how they feel. It is comforting, after feeling so alone for so long, to find others that are just like me.

One topic is brought up time and time again. Over and over. In my own mind, but also in the minds of others.

"What if I am not Bipolar? What if I am making this all up for attention? What if I really am in control of my moods and behaviors but I just choose not to be? What if everyone else actually DOES deal with what I deal with, but I am just overly emotional/sensitive? What if this is all just a figment of my imagination? What if this is all made up? What if I am not Bipolar but instead I am just a loser? What if my diagnosis is wrong, and there is nothing wrong with me except my inability to deal with every day life issues?"

Searching "Am I really bipolar?" or "Questioning my diagnosis" in any bipolar forum will bring up pages upon pages of people who also go through this thought process. It is frequent.

I want to stop taking my medication. Cancel all therapy appointments. Stop going to the doctor. Get a job and continue with my life. What the fuck am I doing, taking this vacation of agonizing loneliness? Get a JOB! Suck it up buttercup. Pull up your big girl panties and march on. Carry on my wayward son.

Is there really anything actually genuinely wrong with me? Am I just playing a game?

But then I list out all of my outbursts. All of my breakdowns. My familiar waves, the fog of depression, my OH-MY-GOD ideas and pursuits which are never followed through to fruitation. My embarrassing delusions of having romantic relationships with coworkers, professors, bosses and friends. The panic attacks and getting out of bed means climbing a mountain. Then I realize that that list is long. It is several pages long. An old company listed on my employee file that I was "mentally unstable", a label I scoffed at then, but now realize was a correct description.

But is that all real? Do I really have a problem or am I just weak?

This is why it is hard to stay on track with medication. This is why it is hard to continue to go to therapy every week. This is why it took me until the age of 30 to seek help.