I've been diagnosed with a panic/anxiety disorder since I was 15 coupled with PTSD it made my teens and early 20s hell. 
I learned how to pretend everything was okay and soon started to believe in that lie. Constantly masking how I was really feeling and appearing as the most confident MFer you've ever met. I believed in my own lie so much I stopped taking meds and seeing a behavioral health specialist (all while knowing something was wrong but believing my own lies).
I got married and lived as a successful civil servant all while hiding my constant ups and even longer downs.
In 2019 I hit what I thought was bottom. I sought help again. My wife and psychologist were very supportive and I struggled to find a local psychiatrist who was taking new patients or one that would even return my calls.
March 2020 I found one and had my first appointment booked for May 2020....Covid had other plans. The appointment was canceled and I was told Goodluck by that provider. 
My psychologist tried holding me together but I felt completely hopeless and was hanging on by a string. 
Flash forward late summer/early fall of 2021. My manic episodes were getting to be uncontrollable and I was in desperate need of help...still struggling to find a provider taking new patients. 
One week before Christmas of 2021 my mother was diagnosed with a major health issue, I was told my dog was going blind and my Uncle the man that took my mother and I in when I was a child the greatest man I ever knew my uncle died in Hospice. The day of his death I had a break down at work and was an absolute mess. Apparently my state freaked people out and I was suspended from the office...I spiraled down. I was being impulsive and manic thru the holidays and days after Christmas I woke up with barely any memory of December and most of November. 
I've been able to piece things together thru text messages and speaking with friends and family. However if I try to recall things myself I describe it as scrambled pay per view channels (able to know what's there but unable to fully recall or see). 
I had enough I was at my wits end and went to a crisis center.  The crisis center I was so scared to visit in the past was able to get me into not only a psychiatrist but also hook me up with a new primary care doctor that actually seems to listen and care. 
My psychologist has shared notes and his thoughts on me with them and yesterday I was diagnosed as Bipolar. 
I've started valproic acid 500mg a day and go for blood work Friday. I have also been taken out of work for a month and a half to monitor my condition.
This has been a scary and long journey for me but I finally feel at peace.
Is this what the journey has been like for everyone? I feel as if mine has taken an incredibly long time to discover people willing to listen and not just want to shove meds down me.