An escape into literature

It is interesting that I did not consider these symptoms to be the first symptoms of the disease. From primary school I read a lot, and in the first year of high school I started ambitious literature, both beautiful (eg Dostoyevsky or Kafka) and philosophical. Reading "The History of Philosophy" by Tatarkiewicz, which for me showed that there are no certain bases for our knowledge and no foundation for a meaningful life. Besides, I was hungry for all kinds of knowledge, I also read a lot of books also in the field of psychology and psychiatry. Sometimes it seemed to me that what was happening to me might be the result of some mental disorder, but somehow I was never sure about it. 
After graduating from high school, I started studying library science. This was already the result of the depression that plagued me. I just wanted to bury myself in some library and somehow survive a life that too often seemed gray, empty, and meaningless to me. In fact, I should go to biology, which I had been interested in since elementary school, but somehow I lost my heart to it during high school. To some extent, it was depression that decided: the problems I had with myself made me take a more serious interest in the humanities. 

Studies interrupted by illness

I only survived less than a semester in library science. In the fall, I was hit by a depression so severe that I quit my studies overnight. It was the first time in my life that I started psychiatric treatment. So what if I was not even fully correctly diagnosed - I got a weak antidepressant, which actually did not help me at all. The depression ended in the spring as usual, and I still wasn't sure if I was really suffering from a mental disorder or not. 
After a year of inactivity, I started studying sociology. I went there with my friend, which made me a little emboldened, and also because it was one of the few humanities that I was not interested in any more. I studied for three years, every year, I did suffer from depression, but with such a moderate intensity that I was able to pass each year, even with good results. After the third year, she caught up with me again. So strong that I didn't start my fourth year studies at all. A year later, I was also unable to start my studies. No wonder, the academic year began in October, and this was the beginning of my annual depression. As a result, I even gave up the thought of higher education. 

Suicide attempts and hypomania

Then I experienced one of the worst depression in my life, I tried to commit suicide. My relationship broke up more during this period, though it was not due to illness. Immediately after the end of depression, I got the first hypomanic state in my life, practically on the verge of mania. It lasted for six months. 
Thanks to my experiences, however, I refined the functioning of the Center to the end, I managed not to make nonsense. Then I started working at the Department of Sociology of Work and Industry of the University of Lodz as an academic teacher. Then, thanks to the knowledge in the field of psychology and psychiatry, I realized that I suffer from bipolar disorder. Then I resumed treatment. The main thing I wanted was the elimination of depression, because the hypomanic states did not bother me particularly well. I was still depressed every year, but there were changes: hypomania started in winter and depression at the end of spring. During one of the major depressions, I tried to commit suicide for the second time. 

The longest depression

Unfortunately, once I had practically finished my PhD, I fell into one of my longest depressions - it lasted 14 months. It was no longer possible to hide it at work (up until then, I had tried to make sure no one knew about my mental disorder). I tried to commit suicide again. Unfortunately, my boss, who was also my supervisor, decided that he did not need an employee with a mental disorder and long sick leave. He did not allow me to defend my dissertation and got rid of me.

Breaking down and working for the Friends of Disabled Society

That's when I broke down completely. It wasn't the typical endogenous depression of bipolar disorder (which is mainly caused by spontaneous changes in neuronal transmission in the brain), but a total life crash. My hypomanias were over, I was alone, and I didn't know what to do with myself. I no longer had the strength or courage to look for a job at another university. I went on disability for two years. Then I somehow managed to mobilize myself and started to work at Friends of Disabled Society. I worked for a dozen or so years, although my depressive problems did not end (apparently I am a drug-resistant case - the list of drugs I managed to "pass" during that time includes more than 30 products). While working at TPN, I met my current partner. Somehow, I'm pulling everything together.