I was so offended about a diagnosis of BPD that I bitched at the first psychiatrist until they left it off their diagnosis.

I’m still offended. But only because BPD seems to be the new ‘this person is at fault for their own condition’ diagnosis that they use to not help you.

Because according to Dr. Talarico I am so fucked up that there’s just no point in doing anything long term to help me achieve safe, stable housing of my own because I’d fuck it up anyway. So I need to do a whole bunch of things that won’t help me get safe stable housing so that I can not be fucked up because only then will I deserve housing.

It’s funny because the fact I don’t want to use up my five visits with each practitioner until I’m ready to actually deal with my mental health proactively apparently means I’m just avoiding seeking help. Fuck you you smug fucking shit. I have five visits with each of them. They never mentioned whether it’s five per year but I don’t think it is. I think it’s just five visits. And if I use them up dealing with my ‘mental health’ that is really affected by my housing situation first, I won’t have them to deal with my actual mental health problems which I’m not sure at this point what they are because my housing situation has been so onerous for so long.

Apparently this means I don’t want help and maybe I’m not nearly as fucked up as they thought originally. But also so profoundly fucked up there’s no point in helping me. Yay.

I want to die rather than see him again but all he’d do is shake his head and chortle “Wow. People with BPD are so pointlessly crazy, it’s a good thing we never helped her. She obviously didn’t want help.”

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