One of the first things you’re told when you’re diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder is that you will have to be on medication for the rest of your life. When I heard that I was distraught. It’s a hard pill to swallow, pun intended, and I even bawled my eyes out the first time to do so come. The nurse on duty at the psychiatric hospital I was staying in was very kind and understanding. She told me not to be ashamed. She asked me if I judged people with cancer for having to get chemotherapy and assured me that there was no difference between the two. I would come to hear similar sentiments echoed in the following months.