The Battle For A Diagnosis ( And Why It's Worth It)

10 years of misdiagnosis and maybes. 10 years of professionals scratching their heads and saying we don't know. 10 years of thinking I was making it all up. 

So when the doctor said,

“You have Borderline Personality Disorder and complex trauma”.

My heart stopped. 

I was 26 years old when I was finally diagnosed. It had been 10 years since my first mental health doctor encounter. 10 years of doctor appointments that never helped, of being dismissed, given the wrong medication, being misunderstood, being labeled “emotional”, having the severity of my mental illness questioned. 

I was first diagnosed with depression.

I was told to work out more, eat better, take vitamins.

I did it all, when I could when getting out of bed wasn't too painful.

I didn't get better, more doctor’s appointments, more diagnosis.

Maybe depression AND anxiety, they said.

Then it was MAYBE severe depression.

Then maybe bipolar.

I stopped trying, canceled appointments, didn't turn up to appointments. What was the point? I also live in a small city in Australia, where mental illness is rampant yet services are extremely lacking (and often incredibly incompetent). Whether or not that's why my diagnosis took so long, I'm unsure, but I know living in a small city or town with limited resources has not made it easy. I wasn't heard, I wasn't listened to, I wasn't believed. It felt so pointless. I spiraled inwardly and for years it got worse until I couldn't take it anymore.

Was it all in my head?
I’m all alone. 

No one cares.
NO ONE CARES.

Do I even care enough to get better?

My story is rare, I guess you could say I’m “one of the lucky ones”, with an incredibly supportive family, who fought for me and helped cover the financial costs. With their support, I was able to continue to pursue my diagnosis, and even though it’s taken 10 years from the first appointment, even though I’ve felt like I've lost a lot of my life to an unknown illness. Nothing compared to the feeling of my BPD diagnosis and having it all explained to me. So many maybes had been said in doctors’ offices so to finally have a definitive diagnosis. One that made sense to me and my doctor, I wanted to weep, I wanted to scream and cry and jump with joy. For years diagnoses came with a heavyweight like something was added to my already heavy load… but for once it felt light. 

Three Things I Wish I Knew

• Give yourself time to process the diagnosis. Don't post about it, don't tell the world about it, have a moment to breathe, mourn, cry, laugh, and embrace the next season with your diagnosis. 

• Google isn't your friend. When I was first diagnosed with BPD I googled everything and to be honest… It scared me more than anything. I had to step back and give myself time to process the diagnosis before researching again. Sometimes we don't actually need to know *everything* about our diagnosis, at least not till we’re in the right headspace. 

• You are not your diagnosis. You are a human being worthy and capable. A diagnosis helps us to focus on what we need to do to get better, to live a beautiful life despite what is happening in our minds. It is not our full identity. I constantly remind myself “Is this me or the BPD speaking?”. More often than not, it isn't me. 

For once in my life, I feel like I'm on the road to healing. The path looks somewhat brighter in front of me. I know it won't be easy, most days it isn't. But knowing I'm working towards a better me, a healthier me, a me who would be proud of ME. For those in the process of a diagnosis. Know that I'm with you every step of the way, and one day it’ll be worth it. While I don't think a diagnosis makes it all better, for me personally. It has helped me gather all the tools to keep moving forward. 

You’ve got this.