I Chose to Accept, Not Fear, my Diagnosis
New mental health diagnoses are difficult to accept, but should they be?
I was recently bestowed with the diagnosis of borderline personality disorder. I had a distinct idea that it was coming, even though we had not addressed it in therapy, but it still shook me to the core.
I don’t think it should have, though.
It wasn’t the first mental health condition whose label has been placed upon me. It’s an add-on to my bipolar, anxiety, and PTSD diagnoses, so a mental health diagnosis itself wasn’t the source of the shock.
Receiving a new diagnosis feels like a new set of problems.
For some unknown reason, the act of placing the diagnosis upon me felt as though a change had been made to who I was. It came as more than a defining term or a descriptive label.
My therapist had pulled the symptoms from the DSM 5 and shoved them into my mind. The moment I received the diagnosis, every one of the signs in that list became something new.
Familiar ideas suddenly became foreign and unknown. The color of my inner lens had changed, and I no longer recognized the hallways of my mind. I no longer knew who I was.
Who am I?
What does me with BPD look like? How does he react to stressors? How does he love? How does he hate? What parts of me are BPD, and what parts of me are me as a whole? What does any of this even mean for me?
I thought I had my issues under control, what new struggle will this bring?
All of those questions rolled through my mind on repeat. I felt as though I was coming apart at the seams. It took effort to stop myself from wrapping my arms around my midsection in a futile attempt to hold my broken parts together.
I am not alone in fear.
Identity issues are common in BPD, but I am willing to put it out there that everyone who receives a diagnosis wrestles with this questioning period.
It would make sense to me that it should be so. A mental illness is something of the mind, and the mind is wholly ours. These labels can imply that we are not entirely in control, and that could shake what we think to know about ourselves.
It’s not just our perception that brings fear.
Because of the stigma, the new diagnosis can feel like a brand of shame burned upon our flesh. We are no longer in the crowd of humanity but instead set apart by this label.
Where does the new label place us in society? Am I among the outcast?
No. Every bit of that mindset is incorrect.
A new diagnosis is nothing new at all. It feels life-changing. It feels like the world has stopped. It feels like a mountain has been set before us.
The reality is that the mountain has always been there. The only thing a diagnosis does is assign a label to it. The label changes nothing about the mountain or its makeup. It is only a name.
Names don’t change the substance.
There is a super nice guy at work that I have worked with, on nearly a daily basis, for almost two years. For the first year of that, I did not know his name.
At first, it was like many interactions I have where the name didn’t stick in my mind. It usually doesn’t matter because they’re acquaintances, but I often worked with him. After a few months, I was too embarrassed to ask.
Well, this is awkward.
I didn’t avoid him because of it, but I avoided names. I called him by pronouns and managed to work through the time without the requirement of knowing his name. It was awkward at times, but he was a part of my life, and I didn’t have a choice.
Ah! Ha!
One day, I finally caught someone else’s call to him that used his name. After one year of knowing the guy, I finally learned his name. One full year that he was there without a name.
Do you know what knowing his name changed? Nothing. Our working relationship was precisely the same. He still fit in precisely the same place in my life. He was the same person. The only thing a name brought was more natural interactions.
A new diagnosis is much like that.
It isn’t a new challenge. It’s not a new mountain to climb. It’s not a whole new set of obstacles.
A new diagnosis is a new set of answers. It is a new set of tools. It opens up the gates to treatment that will be more effective for the issues that we already have. It doesn’t change who we are in that moment, but it can change our lives in the long term.
I don’t feel any different, only more aware.
My new diagnosis does not change who I am. In terms of daily life, it changes absolutely nothing. I am not going to act differently suddenly, and other people will not notice any difference unless I speak of it.
Diagnosis, hope or both?
It gives me answers, and it gives me hope. With a label, I learn how best to fight the symptoms that have plagued me since my teenage years. My therapist and I now know what methods to use to bring me to a place of management.
That is the real way that a new diagnosis is life-changing. Not in a negative sense of self-depreciation, but a new ray of hope. Knowledge is power, and that is precisely what the name gives.
BPD is heavily stigmatized though.
That is a harsh reality. I could potentially be judged unfairly now that the label has been placed upon me. Almost every mental illness carries a weight of stigma. It is unfair, but that doesn’t change the perception.
A lot of quality work is being done to fight the negative stigma and progress is being made. The negative connotations do still exist, though, and it can cause fear when a diagnosis is received.
It’s okay to protect yourself.
Many will say that you should fight the stigma, but it’s not required. I don’t want to preach silence. But if the thought of being judged for your disorder terrifies you, please know that you need never speak of it outside of your close circle. No one else needs to know.
It’s not fair that we feel the need to hide our medical conditions in fear, but fairness does not mean much in the world. So I say choose who you inform with care, but try not to hold it entirely to yourself. Seek comfort and support in those you trust.
Use your new diagnosis.
You are not your new diagnosis, just as I am not mine. The diagnosis is something to be used. It is a tool that opens up a new set of ideas to be used in treatment.
So don’t fear it.
Instead, welcome the answers and make full use of the gift that it is. Embrace the new treatment methods and find one that works for you and your symptoms.
Revise coping mechanisms with the new knowledge and let that new label be something that gives you a new lease on life rather than a drag and something to hold you back.
I’m excited.
I have not even started any new styles of treatment for BPD. The symptoms are bothersome, but I must confess that I am excited. I am delighted that I finally have an answer and a few potential paths that can lead me one step closer to a managed life.
I have a mountain to climb, but naming that mountain gave me a view of the summit I will reach.
Remember always: A diagnosis is just a new name for what you already feel and experience.
Subscribe here to stay up to date with my ramblings!
