Redux- labels, identity, treatment and deciding that it no longer really matters

Garbled entry ahoy!  If you can’t be arsed reading it, here’s the summary:

My social worker does not agree with the BPD thing but also thinks most diagnosis are subject to change from doctor to doctor.  Which is good and was what I was mostly upset about, as she’s known me for eighteen months and had never expressed concern about my relationships etc.   I don’t have a problem with BPD other than its inaccuracy and also the, “KA-POW!” way it was dropped on me.  It was proper, “Oh, by the way…”  I was upset that I felt things had been kept from me when I had asked outright a few times.

I’m not  too upset at the moment since I’m neither being referred for treatment for anything BPD nor am I taking medication.  The only useful thing about diagnosis is the treatment, so if I’m not being treated, it doesn’t matter.  Well, it does, but  I haven’t got the energy to seek a second opinion or challenge anything at the moment.  All I want to know is that if anything goes wrong off medication, I will be taken seriously and helped, and I’ve been assured I will, so!  I’m not entirely confident that I will be, but at least my social worker doesn’t agree and she might, at least. That’s what’s important, knowing that if something goes tits, I’m not alone.  If something doesn’t within the next few months, I am making a graceful exit from the community mental health team.   For now, I’m being kept an eye on.

I feel okay, physical ARGHs aside with withdrawal still kicking my arse and making me feel incredibly ill and making it hard to do much.  This whole thing has actually been a bit of an eye-opener.  I’ll see how I do off medication.  These are unknown lands for me to wander in.

This was at the end so if you don’t read that far:

So! I shall continue to blog, whatever label I have or have not, as it’s original intention has always been to monitor my moods and write bollocks, and that hasn’t changed.  Thanks for your support and for putting up with my wailing.  It’s much appreciated.

For the long version:

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