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"[diagnosis] is something you have, not something you are"
Does anyone else completely disagree with that sentiment?
I see it a lot in these communities, and I definitely am not trying to yuck on someone else's yum, but I just don't relate to it. Maybe someone else can explain it better than me?
Like, I feel almost totally defined by borderline. I struggle so much with life because of this disorder. It takes so much time and energy away from being able to focus on normal people things, to the point that I feel unable to live a normal life without a ton of help and therapy.
So I just feel that I really am my BPD.
PS: not trying to stir a pot or anything, it's just a thought I had and wanted to talk about
I don't agree with that statement either, or at least not in full.
I firmly believe a large part of my personality was formed around how I coped with the adhd symptoms I've had for my entire life. I think the statement tries to separate the person from the disorder by giving power to the person, which is laudable by itself, but it falls short by not recognizing the effort someone puts into dealing with their disorder day to day and how that subsequently shapes how they deal with things in the long term too.
However, I'm still different from others suffering from the same disorder. Not every person has the same symptoms or severity of symptoms and therefore copes and learns differently. In that sense, it's not something I am as that would make me the same as others.
Ultimately it's a bit of both. It defines me as I live with it every day, and have for years. The actions I took, take, and will take, in coping with it are every bit as defining as not having the disorder would've formed me. It shaped me who I am, but it doesn't define me. It influences me, but my own personality influences it too.
I'm just me, and I have a disorder that I deal with every day. Sometimes it dictates my actions, sometimes my actions dictate it.
Absolutely echoing this post here, as another person with ADHD as well as some other mental illnesses. These things have a big effect on me and are inevitably a huge part of who I am, and I’m not a fan of those truisms that try to dismiss how much a part of me they are. But at the same time they aren't the only things that define who I am.
"X is something you have, not something you are." I feel is kind of clumsily worded as well.
"I am more than X, but X is a part of me." - I think this is a more apt phrasing, but there's still a fair bit clunky there.
I am not just ADHD myself, but goddamn it sometimes when people ask me 'Why are you like this?!' it's so refreshing to be able to say 'ADHD' and be done with it.
I feel like this is more apt to non-mental issues, like physical disabilities. I have crippling eyesight issues, but that isn't who I am. But mental illnesses can be so broad and encompassing it absolutely can dominate who you become.
I like art. I wanted to draw. Badly. I always fell short and failed compared to my sister.
My sister was neurotypical, I'm ADHD.
I found out when I was thirty that my horrible hand eye coordination and drawing skills are in large part due to coordination being so heavily affected it can be considered a diagnostic criteria for ADHD.
I feel like I kind of got pushed into my hobbies by my limitations, and now that I have something extrinsic to help understand, I know I don't just have to blame myself for things I literally cannot control.
I am not my ADHD, but my ADHD is an integral part of who I am and who I grew up to be.
I think one way to understand this quote is as a statement to other people about how they should (or should not) relate to someone with [diagnosis]. So not, "you should not see yourself as [diagnosis]." But rather, "I should not see you as [diagnosis]."
I don't know what your experience with BPD is, but my ongoing struggle with depression and anxiety is pretty invisible to people. Even when I talk openly about it with people, I find that people have difficulty relating or sympathizing unless they have experienced something similar. Even if this "they" thinks someone is has a mental health issue, they are probably not going to identify a diagnosis unless they are specifically told. I know these are common themes for mental health, but I think in the context of this quote, that might be part of why it's hard to relate to?
If I think about someone with autism, or Downs syndrome, or an amputation, something that is both very visible and easily categorized, I can imagine that it would be a lot easier to pigeonholed or disregarded because people think they know everything about you because they think they know something about the diagnosis. (TBC I have none of these issues myself, so I am only speculating and going off things I have read or seen other people say.)
Regardless of any of my maunderings, I think you should feel free to disregard this idea if it's not helpful to you. In the end, you're the one closest to the situation and the one who has to take responsibility for how you deal with it.
To stir the pot a bit: I feel like most similar attempts at rewording common things are, in general, basically attempts at activism done by online busybodies and should be seen as such unless proven otherwise.
My chronic illness cannot really be worded as something I am and I try not to make it my identity like some patients do (usually ones who are desperate - I don't like it, but I empathize and understand quite well how it happens), but like you and other people here say, it has 100% changed my personality and does define who I am to a significant degree, unfortunately.
And since there's a lot of misconceptions about my illness and even many doctors don't know a lot about it, any potential issues with identifying/non-identifying with it would be basically at the bottom of the list I'd like to see changed. I'm skeptical about switching between calling people a handicapped person vs a person with disabilities (if that's the current accepted name) bringing any tangible benefits.
Such statements can be either useful or harmful depending on the context.
If your disorder is fully recognized and at least somewhat understood by those around you, it is possible for your environment to provide an excess of acknowledgement which can lead to overprotection, rejection of challenges, excessive identification with patterns associated to your condition, and ableist attitudes both from others and yourself. In that context, the ideas surrounding the notion of "you are not your diagnosis" can be helpful or benign.
However, if your condition is not fully acknowledge by your social circles, in a way that prevents them from giving the support you need, including but not limited to the access to essential health resources, than the "you are not your diagnosis" mentality can actually harm your chances of living a healthy, happy life.
Personally speaking, the "you are not your diagnosis" mentality did me more harm than good, but not everyone faces the same circumstances that I do.
Edit: Regarding the truthfulness of the statement in regards to my personal identity, I don't really care about the answer. I don't think I can answer that. Too complicated. So I focus on the practical consequences, the impact it may have on my mental health. To me this is more medicine than it is philosophy.
I view it similarly. Also I think it's worth noting that these disorders are just terms we give to certain types of thoughts, feelings and behaviors and they aren't quite the same as physical ailments in that way. While there could be some ways of saying that about some physical ailments, like the common cold isn't just one ailment but a varying set of viruses and often its just diagnosed through symptoms rather than taking some test that seeks to specifically extract and identify the virus in your system (though that's mostly a resource issue on a large scale rather than a science/tech issue). However with psychology pretty much all of our diagnostics is through identifying symptoms rather than observe underlying elements that cause those symptoms and in that way, there's a lot of factors at play that go into any diagnosis and they can change over time.
I have a friend that was diagnosed bipolar, but years later this diagnosis was changed to something else. They were pretty surprised to find that out, and they did form a lot of their identity around their diagnosis. Now instead of posting bipolar memes it's memes about something else.
Notably, homosexuality was once in the DSM. Not everything in the DSM is correct, and that isn't to deny any elements of the scientific method that go into modern psychology or the DSM today, it's just noting that our understanding is evolving and some things will change over time. But it's not like a diagnosis of polio where something can be extracted from you and put under a microscope or given any other kind of test to determine that there is a very specific type of virus causing the symptoms that one would experience to be given that diagnosis. There have been disorders that have been renamed and reclassified from one DSM to another. Aspergers syndrome is no longer regarded as a diagnosis in the way it once was and is now a subset of autistic spectrum disorders.
As our understanding of how thoughts, feelings, behaviors etc. can be related or in what manner they can be grouped together to better identify what defines someone in a way that can be treated, what is one thing today can be a different thing years from now. I think there's of course some that have more research into them and thus have more staying power and are unlikely to change significantly, but it does show that if we chase a diagnosis in the form of identifying through what that diagnosis is known for, we're doing things in reverse. The diagnosis doesn't define who the person is, the person defines the diagnosis by who they are.
Now to further clarify or muddy up my view depending on how that view is initially perceived, I think there is some value in people who identify with their diagnosis, I don't know how to identify or explain that value but clearly for some people it works. I view it like religion in some ways, where I don't have any religion and I can see some harm in religion, but for some people it works. I can see under some circumstances if I had religion in my life, how I could be a better person than I am now (I could also see some circumstances where I could be a worse person). I don't mean better as in more ethical or moral necessarily, I mean better as in a more functional and capable person, though it varies from person to person what benefits or harms could be derived.
In a way I might also be influenced to view more positively a lack of an identity around a diagnosis because I don't have one. I know the flaws of self-identifying, so I can't in good conscience go around telling everyone I've got schizoid personality disorder or some high functioning autistic spectrum disorder, but I also can't afford to go see a psychologist/psychiatrist to possibly even get such a diagnosis even if I wanted to or would benefit from it, so I may just have this viewpoint to adapt to the reality that I don't have a diagnosis to identify with.
You can define yourself however you like, and I would always respect self-definitions.
There isn't a problem with "I am borderline", but there is when it becomes "you are borderline", or further "you are borderline and so we're not going to provide anything in the way of support for you". This is surprisingly common in English NHS MH services where people are really struggling to get meaningful support.
We've had a lot of tackling stigma campaigns, and one of them was tackling MH stigma from MH professionals. That focussed on examining the things MH professionals believe about people who've got the diagnosis. A lot of those harmful beliefs were that people are entirely defined by their diagnosis. It was pretty concerning to hear MH professionals come out with this, when I had previously thought this person had good values and worked compassionately.
I don't disagree with you at all. I have a thought that it is missing the woods for the trees. I haven't received a therapeutic diagnosis (yet) but I have received several medical diagnoses in the past 2 years: first sleep apnea, and now Celiac disease. The recentness of coping with both of these, and mourning what I have lost is fairly fresh in my memory, so it may contribute to my view (I will most likely never sleep without a mask on my face again for the rest of my life. I will almost certainly never be able to eat a regular pizza again in my life. I can't grab an Auntie Anne's Pretzels when I go to the mall with my wife, but she can still eat it on a whim). My diagnosis was not what gave me these things: the diagnosis is simply giving a name to what is causing the symptoms that made me seek treatment. I already had (or was) these things, with some signs pointing to them having been there my entire life. A diagnosis merely helps me compartmentalize them, and accept myself, even love myself, for who I am, instead of telling myself I suck all the time because I am constantly in pain, lacking energy, forgetting things other people can remember easily, or falling asleep in random places.
So, from a bodily health standpoint instead of a mental health standpoint: Do I just have Celiac Disease or am I a Celiac? It frankly makes zero difference to me. I would probably ask anyone who told me "a diagnosis is something you have not something you are" this: why does it matter to you? Do you just want to stop hearing me talk about something that really matters to me, and affects me on a daily basis? That's a valid boundary for them to set: don't talk to me about X. But passively skirting around it is not helpful. And a valid boundary for me is: I don't want to talk to you if you won't let me talk about something I have to think about constantly.
Also: this is a great topic for you to explore with your therapist the next time you meet with them. They could help you explore why you feel bothered by this, or understand the other viewpoint.
I'll throw something lighter out there, that many in the thread will relate with.
Taylor Tomlinson's take on Bipolar Disorder and taking your meds.
Bipolar disorder has influenced who I am, heavily. I have some of the best and worst of my life to thank it for. But so long as I keep on keeping on, I don't have to let it rule me.
For me it’s about the deterministic nature that comes with these kinds of things
Eg, a large jump for me in terms of healing from C-PTSD was understanding that objectively shameful things about myself/actions were more indicative of the trauma I went through rather than me as a person (so the internal hatred was than turned externally, also yah for Ketamine therapy for being able to reach into very dark recesses of the mind in a safe environment)
It’s true to say “the person I am” is in part defined by my mental problems - it’s also true to say “the person” is separated from this and that a lot of “the person I am” is affected by both external factors and basic genetic human responses that are common to make in said situation (eg the objective means of traumas responses and PTSD and having tests like the ACE test to being able to quantify trauma - because it’s less “there’s something wrong with you” and more “this is the response the human mind will take” that leads to things like PTSD and BPD).
As a great book title puts it perfectly: The Body Keeps the Score
Also putting this as it’s own comment because this is pure talking out of my ass on a topic that wasn’t asked about, but I do strongly recommend to not focusing on having a “normal” life, but focus on having a “happy” life - “normal” is fighting an uphill battle to begin with as stated, and it’s common enough for a “normal” and “happy” life to not have overlap even outside of having mental issues. The world sells you something, but never trust a salesman. Getting “better” isn’t about being able to live a normal life free of these issues, but instead figuring out how to navigate life that works best for oneself in dealing with the issues - a lot of this can be counter to what is sold
I think that, for some people, their mental issues tend to become the focus of their identity through sheer overwhelm of the sympyoms/consequences, which a doctor or good-willed person believes is holding back the ill person's healing. So by saying this, I think it's meant to jolt you out of that rut/spiral and shift your focus to all the other things you are/have besides the illness. From there one can focus on building more of what they already have built up, which I guess for some, might help them feel better. If it's a chronic issue, then maybe it's used as a way to try to end an episode of worse symptoms.
That's my take on it, anyway.
I mostly agree with the statement. The literal sense of you, the person, being so much more than a particular diagnostic condition is certainly true. I think I don't share many of the sentiments here because I've not found any diagnosis nor most meds to be particularly helpful, so my life isn't centered around any particular diagnosis.
Another problem is that psychiatric conditions aren't well-defined. Diagnostic criteria are often of the form "n of m criteria satisfied" (and satisfied based on the judgement of whichever clinician you talked to). It doesn't make sense that if you satisfy n criteria (or more broadly, the judgement of someone), you're [diagnostic label], but if you satisfy only n - 1, you're not. These are statistically significant clusters of symptoms that are convenient labels for societies and medical/support systems, but barely begin to describe the range of how people can be. Many people have multiple diagnoses, but if you're being described by conditions A, B and C, then I suspect you're uniquely you (with many uncommon characteristics and difficulties) and that the (vague and ill-defined) union of A, B and C is just a crude approximation of your characteristics. Why not just focus on your specific characteristics instead? In particular, childhood trauma can branch into very varied and complicated problems as things go unaddressed over decades and people cope very differently with their circumstances and accumulated learned behaviours.
That said, I do tell some people that I'm on the spectrum. I'm not using that as a diagnostic label, and only somewhat as an identity label, but mainly as a cue to them that I can't meet some of their usual expectations about social interactions. I also really haven't understood (or maybe "acknowledged" is the better term) many of my difficulties and figured out how to deal with them well.