Ugly Acronyms: the stigma attached to personality disorders

Read Time:5 Minute, 9 Second

By Charlotte

It sounds odd how something so insignificant as four letters of the Roman alphabet could do so much damage. It’s not the letters themselves that are an issue. It’s what they represent to professionals that is the most damaging. EUPD, sometimes referred to as BPD, is a diagnosis attached to me in February 2016. This was a year many of us recall for not being particularly good. For me I called it my annus horribilis. But actually it seems that since 2016 every year is an annus horribilis, due to the stigma attached to personality disorders.

The implications of this diagnosis

I don’t wish to go into the specifics of how I got labelled, but the implications of this diagnosis are far reaching and life-changing. In October 2016 I plucked up the courage to see my GP with regard to the myoclonic twitches I’d been suffering with for most of my life. I had to go private for the investigations, the reason being my then CPN contacted my then GP, without my knowledge or consent, regarding my physical health. And it was decided as a result of this meeting that I had nothing wrong with me. And shouldn’t have the tests on the NHS as this would add to my problems that aren’t there. The oddity is that the GP she spoke to wasn’t the one I’d seen about the issue! After that our relationship continued to sour.

Looking back two years on, I can understand why this turn of events happened. I’d always had a good relationship with my GP. I’d known her as a student, so rather stupidly thought she’d see I was the same person I was four years earlier. I was already aware of the stigma attached to mental illness, but I was unaware of the stigma attached to personality disorders. Having a good relationship with my GP and a bad one with my CPN was of course wrong. I was simply idolising my GP and devaluing my CPN, typical BPD behaviour, and I had to be stopped didn’t I?

Pain ruining my life

I also developed other issues, mainly extremely painful and heavy periods that were ruining my life. But this was simply a direct result of my own behaviour. And if I changed my attitude to life they would go away. Eventually I ended up seeing a gynae in 2017 who botched my laparoscopy. So I had to fight for over a year to get a second one. But not before labels such as Munchausen’s syndrome, factitious disorder and somatic disorder were banded about.

I’m currently recovering from the second laparoscopy, but the consultant has made it clear he doesn’t want to see me again. He hasn’t given me a fit note. He downplayed the findings as they’re “not significant”, especially as I’m “just a borderline who wants attention”. He’s made it very clear that he will tell any future doctor that if I request, or any other doctors request, laparoscopies, they are wasting money. The only treatment I’ve been offered is a choice of the following: the mirena coil, the combined oral contraceptive, or the mini pill. I asked about other treatments but they’re obviously out of bounds as they don’t have contraceptive benefits. As, despite what I say, a diagnosis of EUPD means behaviour assumptions are made. This was used to devastating effect and has prevented me from accessing crucial support for an event in 2015 and again in 2016.

How badly we get treated by the NHS

It became painfully obvious to me how badly we get treated by the NHS when I look at the care my housemate received for a similar issue. Statistically, she would otherwise be getting worse care. The NHS documents that those from black and ethnic minorities usually receive poorer physical healthcare than their white counterparts. She is in the aforementioned group, but has had a much easier time getting care and treatment for her issues. It is worth noting she does not have a mental illness of any kind. They allowed her to turn down treatment on cultural grounds, for example.

But my culture is considered a temporary lifestyle choice. I might be a Christian but they take it that I’m of a particular sect: middle road C of E, not a more conservative branch. I was even told to change to a more liberal branch by the CMHT (Community Mental Health Team). This means I can be forced to have treatment I don’t agree with on cultural grounds. As apparently I faked my religion to make myself look better. Well, classic borderline manipulation isn’t it? “What would the church say if they knew about your past?” “Surely they don’t want someone like you in their midst?” “It doesn’t matter what they think, your religion is harmful.”

My housemate goes to the same church, yet they didn’t say those things to her when she turned down the same treatments! And besides, I’d probably be a different religion next week because of course my identity is unstable. No mention that I have been a Christian since I was a child.

Reminded how little I matter

Things have reached a point now where I’ve now openly told my new GP that I wish I’d never spoken about my mental health. I’ve also told her how I want all references removed from all my health records. But instead I find BPD in bold letters circled on my notes like it’s the most important thing they need to know.

Those 3/4 letters are a noose forever reminding me of my place in the world. I’m forever reminded how little I matter to society.

It’s a sad reality that 1 in 10 with a diagnosis of EUPD die through suicide. And the average life expectancy of someone diagnosed with EUPD is 20 years less. This is almost certainly down to the poorer and substandard healthcare we receive as a direct result of this label.