The Joys and Tragedies of Late-Adulthood Diagnosis
As the world shut down, I stepped into myself
Denial
There is validity in self-diagnosis.
The first time I read up on borderline personality disorder (BPD), I knew in my gut that it is what I had had. Granted, the circumstances surrounding this revelation weren’t the best. After all, I was watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and as they listed the symptoms I played along, accidentally scoring a 8/9 on the checklist (mentally insert Leonardo Dicaprio pointing at TV meme here). I felt it in every fibre of my being that my whole life had been leading up to that moment and I ran to confirm the diagnosis. The only other time I have felt this kind of clarity was when reading up about adult ADHD.
Though I was in therapy, on antidepressants and by all accounts doing well, I could feel myself evaporating.
Unlike previously, I already had a diagnosis under my belt, so rather than trust my intuition, I decided to ignore the symptoms. After all, how many mental health issues can one person have!
I do believe if it wasn’t due to the pandemic, I would have stayed on this path. However, studying at home brought upon its own unique set of obstacles. So after many months of turmoil, I went to the doctor and I was…
