Apparently, according to at least one 3rd year medical student, I show certain traits which are intrinsic to borderline personality disorder. I disagree on the diagnosis as a whole, but can agree on a few select points, such as my “black-and-white” perspective some of the time, my propensity for the dramatic, my reckless driving on occasion (+10 years driving, no accidents caused by me, 0 speeding tickets, only 1 actual fender bender–how’s that for reckless @$$hole?). But not much else. I don’t have promiscuous sex (though I may fantasize), I don’t abuse substances, I’m not suicidal, and I don’t think I’m a binge eater.
So is it fair to tell someone that the only reason they want to do anything is because they’re mentally divergent? Hmmm… No, I don’t think that’s fair. I agree that I come from a broken family with little direction and little in the way of coping skills with everyday life, but I’ve made it this far. I’ve gone straight from high school to college to the work force. I’ve held down jobs for reasonable amounts of time with respect to what my financial and career goals are (2.75 and 0.75 prior and current respectively). I pay my bills for the most part within the allotted 30 day timeframe, unless something odd happens, and then it’s within 30 to 45 days. I’ve had 3 long-lasting relationships and have successfully converted from a romantic one to a platonic one. Overall, I think it’s safe to say I’m not fucking insane.
So I’m inclined at this point to question whether this person’s motives were purely diagnostic when making the statement that I may have BPD. Is it not possible that this person–never having had a decent long-term relationship of any meaningful import, never having to fend for himself or to make decisions independent of Mommy and Daddy’s directives, never knowing or even caring what it’s like to walk in another person’s shoes–is it not possible that this was merely a defense mechanism on his part in response to my long-thought out decision to end our relationship? Methinks this may be a possibility.
I’m old enough at this point to know that I’m not the cream of the crop, I’m not “1 in a million”, I’m not white, or blonde, or 105 lbs with a 5-foot stature. I’m ok with that. I’m not wildly successful or creative or talented, but I’m starting to know what I like and what I want in life. I’m ok with that. What I’m not ok with is someone telling me that I have a mental disorder and thereby invalidating all of my feelings and hopes and drives, demeaning my capacity to think for myself on an adult level. Perhaps this is his projecting of the mollycoddling his parents have done to him all of his life, perhaps not. Whatever it is, whatever his reason, he should have known better.