In my case, it allowed me to definitively explain to family, relatives and friends, why I do what I do. No one cares about what you think you have, but yourself...I couldn't even get a former, long-term girlfriend, to accept my suspicions, despite spending years at the mercy of my random obsessions/quirkiness/etc., until I was officially diagnosed. It's not a free pass to explain away all of my life's failures, but it makes it substantially easier to justify decisions that might have looked like laziness to other people. I mean, shoot, I'm guilty of these knee-jerk reactions, too. In my perception, the difference between being scared and being diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, or being sad and being diagnosed as clinically depressed, is huge.