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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 21 of 21. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
Is it just me, or do others on this site find that they have to be careful not to think of themselves as the diagnosis to which their problems have been ascribed?
I feel like pre-diagnosis, I had several valid identities, some relating to my family, some relating to my religion, some related to my ethnic heritage, some related to my alma mater.
Perhaps it's a sign of needing to get more involved in other activities, but just wondering what others' thoughts on this topic are...
Posted by Dinah on April 10, 2004, at 21:04:58
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
I don't know that that has happened with me overmuch. Perhaps partially because I don't fit in any diagnosis very neatly. I think what *has* happened is that I think of myself as being weaker than I used to. More neurotic. And I tend to not set my goals as high as I used to. Not that I wasn't always neurotic. I just didn't realize it as much.
Posted by tabitha on April 10, 2004, at 21:06:49
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
I guess when it was new I took it on as part of my identity a lot more. It seemed important to me for understanding myself and getting others to understand me. It's gotten less important over time. Now I'm just glad I have it because under parity law it means my insurance pays for therapy. I hope having that label in my files doesn't come back and bite me somehow.
Posted by fallsfall on April 10, 2004, at 21:42:42
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
My diagnosis IS my identity. And I've built a whole life around it. All of my activities and friends are related to mental illness. My therapist keeps telling me that I have created quite an elaborate life around being depressed. And he's right. But I've been disabled from work for 7 of the last 9 years. I guess I don't really see how I could have done it differently (my previous therapist told me to create a support network - I did, it just contains only people who are also mentally ill...).
It has been suggested that my therapist might not be complaining about my "life", simply pointing it out because if I am going to get better a lot of my "life" will have to change. It still sounds like a complaint to me.
When he asks why I don't do things with "healthier" people I tell him (honestly) that I don't have anything to talk to them about - because I don't have a life. And I can't get a life because I never get out of my little mental illness circle.
I LIKE my friends. But, no, I don't want to be disabled forever (or even for much longer). But I am stuck in this rut, and it just isn't so easy to get out.
Posted by 64Bowtie on April 11, 2004, at 1:24:12
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
If we can't distinguish between who we are and what we do (or did), we may have difficulty with separating who we are from our dx.
Who I am is a fact. What I do (or did) is my story (not a fact). OBTW and FWIW, these are stored in two different parts of the brain, yet we consistently schmooozh them together.
I pledge to all herein that this simple truth is one of the four cornerstones to my wellness I have embraced. Who I am is not what I do (or did)!
Rod
PS: Test children under 10. 100% can't distinguish between these two states of being. The schmooozh is something I willingly gave up to gain maturity. Now, no schmooozh, just wellness.
Posted by 64Bowtie on April 11, 2004, at 1:27:13
In reply to Re: When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by tabitha on April 10, 2004, at 21:06:49
> I hope having that label in my files doesn't come back and bite me somehow.
>
>
<<<Amen to that!Rod
Posted by 64Bowtie on April 11, 2004, at 1:47:49
In reply to Re: When diagnosis becomes identity » skeptic, posted by fallsfall on April 10, 2004, at 21:42:42
Fall,
We come hard-wired to avoid dissatisfaction at birth. The antithesis is to spackle over our bad feelings with safety in [nouns] (people, places, things, ideas). As a child (before change), this strategy is mostly suscessful. As adults, our lives become messy when we problem-solve this way.
Just because we can talk "short-hand" to our sick friends, doesn't improve our quality of life. Just because our chaos is familiar and easily perfected and understood, doesn't give chaos meaning or value.
Time and timing are toooo important to trifle with folks who gather and slate their dysfunctions. We find balance and harmony when we honor our adult skills and attributes. We honor them by seeking goodness, truth, and beauty in all our endeavors.
Rod
Posted by 64Bowtie on April 11, 2004, at 1:58:06
In reply to Re: When diagnosis is our identity » fallsfall, posted by 64Bowtie on April 11, 2004, at 1:47:49
Posted by noa on April 11, 2004, at 8:31:56
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
I think I would have to say that in the beginning the diagnosis did become a big part of my identity. And then years later when I had a big relapse in depression, perhaps it became more a part of my identity again but in a different way than in the beginning. I guess the way I'd explain my experience of this now is that how 'present' the depression is as part of my identity depends on how severely my symptoms are affecting my functioning at any given time.
But yes, it's always PART of my identity--definitely.
Another factor is that one of the things I've worked on in therapy a lot is the lack of integration in my sense of self because of mood changes---ie, depressed self, and not-depressed self. In other words, I was having a very hard time integrating who I am--when depressed I felt like this is the totality of who I am--always depressed, a horribly person, etc. will never get better, etc. etc. When not depressed, I tried so hard to wish that the depression will not ever come back so I would be vigilant all the time and very anxious and afraid of depression pouncing out at me unexpectedly like some kind of monster, etc., but this meant I was trying to see the 'depressed me' as somehow not part of all of me. In therapy over the years, I have come a long way in integrating this pretty much into all me--depressed and not depressed. There is still work to be done on this, but it's gotten much more integrated than it used to be.
Hope this makes sense.
Posted by terrics on April 11, 2004, at 11:56:17
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
You have a very pertinent thought. Especially if your dx is a personality disorder. Can it be true of axis 1 disorders too? terrics
Posted by Racer on April 11, 2004, at 12:57:03
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
This is a recurrent topic for me, too. I try, very hard, to be a whole person, and not simply a diagnosis. I have my history, my interests, my abilities, and my challenges. I also suffer from Major Depression. I've seen what you're describing, though, and it worries me. At times, I feel as if the depression is the defining characteristic of my life. I look back at my failures, and see how so much of each was caused by my depression, and it worries me a great deal.
I've also seen a lot of people who define themselves according to their diagnoses, even though they may have many other qualities that would be much healthier to use as self-definitions. And I've known people who wanted to be my friend solely on the basis of complementary diagnoses.
It kinda reminds me of Mensa: Most members of Mensa that I met were involved because they had nothing else in their lives to get involved with. Had the same people been able to join, say, Junior League or the TriLateral Commission, they would have joined them instead. (Many Mensa members, of course, join for reasons having nothing to do with getting involved. They have other interests and get involved with those. Some members of Mensa, however, do seem to join because they have nothing else to be involved in.) I think that's true of the PsychoBabblers of the world, too: some of us have outside interests and define ourselves by those. Others have nothing else to focus on, so we focus on our dx. Mind you, I don't think that those groups are static. I think that, in times when our diseases are more controlled, we tend to get involved in other things, and think less about our dx. When our symptoms are worse, though, we may not be able to see beyond them, and at those times we define ourselves by them.
It's really no different from physical disease, though. I've got an incurable, progressive physically disease. When it was first diagnosed, I went through months of real hell -- everything reminded me of it, it took up a lot of my attention (crying "why me?" a lot), and everything I saw seemed to be filtered through it. After a few years, though, when I learned to control it better and it was no longer new, other things took on more and more importance in my life and this disease fell into the background. Nowadays, unless the symptoms flare up, it's nothing more than an annoyance that I can dismiss pretty easily. Same thing with the depression: when it's adequately medicated, I can shove it aside in favor of more important or more immediate interests and needs. Does that make sense?
So, another long rambling from Racer. Maybe I should change my handle to RamblingRose?
Hope it helped, and feel free to ask for clarification.
Posted by skeptic on April 11, 2004, at 14:42:04
In reply to Re: When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by Dinah on April 10, 2004, at 21:04:58
I can definitely relate on the feeling weaker than I used to feel. I can also relate on the neuroses. Become more aware of mine every day...though I'm no so sure that there is anything inherently wrong with being highly neurotic.
I'm also learning that everyone is human and thus capable of error and bias (and all the other flaws and susceptibilities that humans come with), therapists and psychiatrists included. I think that is something that we ALL easily forget.
> I don't know that that has happened with me overmuch. Perhaps partially because I don't fit in any diagnosis very neatly. I think what *has* happened is that I think of myself as being weaker than I used to. More neurotic. And I tend to not set my goals as high as I used to. Not that I wasn't always neurotic. I just didn't realize it as much.
Posted by platinumbride on April 11, 2004, at 15:22:34
In reply to Re: When diagnosis becomes identity » Dinah, posted by skeptic on April 11, 2004, at 14:42:04
You know, i kind of fight with that a lot. In my own mind I call it "normal, but neurotic, and being part of the world of normal people" or "not quite right in the head and not having the inner resources to be part of the normal world".
Sometimes I think that is good for me to remember that I am Bipolar II and sometimes not.
But mostly I just berate myself for not having been able to "cut it" in the world of the normal.
(I know, I know.........what is normal anyway?)
It is so hard to put these feelings into words....I do'nteven know if I am making sense. But I DID try LOL
Diane
Posted by platinumbride on April 11, 2004, at 15:32:13
In reply to Re: When diagnosis becomes identity » skeptic, posted by Racer on April 11, 2004, at 12:57:03
I really appreciate what you wrote about symptoms, flare-ups and so forth. I tend to agree. When I feel "well", I don't feel as if i do not belong in the world (of normal people). It is only while in the midst of depression (NOT hypomania, btw) that I feel"fundamentally flawed".
Really, it would be folly NOT to try and have friends who have "been there and done that", but when I feel well, I don't have a problem thinking that I deserve to fit in with those who have not!
Racer, once again, you put it all so well....
Diane
Posted by pegasus on April 11, 2004, at 15:53:25
In reply to Re: When diagnosis is our identity » fallsfall, posted by 64Bowtie on April 11, 2004, at 1:47:49
Funny, I'm finding that I'm discovering more balance and harmony in my life as I rediscover more of my child-like skills and attributes. For me, at least, I think I've suppressed too much of what I enjoyed as a child in order to address social pressures.
I guess what I'm saying is that I disagree with half of your stance on "growing up" as mental health. Sure, being mature is good. But I think one can overdo it. The balance part of mental health can benefit when we retain or rediscover that childlike wonder and enthusiasm that we so often lose as we "mature". I've been "grown up" as you describe it for a long time, and I think it's made me off kilter to a certain extent.
Just another perspective. Maybe everyone has different needs in terms of their own individualized struggle for mental health. Because, lord knows, we all have different environments, thoughts, and behaviors that have gotten us to where we are.
pegasus
Posted by Camille Dumont on April 11, 2004, at 16:18:09
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
I read something insightfull about taht in a p-book. Notice how the names of disease are different if they are permanent or temporary.
Like you say he IS diabetic ... but not he IS a broken leg or he IS a cold.
When they are temporary ... they are most often reffered to as something you HAVE rather than something you are.
Most often doc will not say you have a depression, they'll tell you that you are depressive, bipolar, borderline and what not.
Hence perhaps the tendency of us becoming the illness ...
Posted by skeptic on April 11, 2004, at 20:29:55
In reply to Re: When diagnosis becomes identity » skeptic, posted by fallsfall on April 10, 2004, at 21:42:42
It's kind of funny. Your pattern of building your life around your diagnosis reminds me of an old pattern of mine---only that I used to build elaborate lives---activities, friends, and all---around romantic partners that weren't particularly interested in me. I won't get into the particular psychodynamics of why I built my dreams around these people, but suffice it to say that I think it is a natural human tendency to seek the answers that we're looking for outside of ourselves, and that this particular pattern (or theme, if you will) is a fairly common one in human behavior. Often, though, it can become a problematic one, especially when you couple it with the intense energy that many of us bipolar/hyperthymic folk have. (And, based on my extensive research into my diagnosis, I'm of the belief that many in therapy are more "bipolar" than depressed---I think we merely complain more about the depressed part.)
Ruts are DEFINITELY not fun, but I believe that people CAN learn to change. At the very least, we can re-channel our energies and dreams towards more propitious goals. Especially if we force ourselves (no matter how hard it can be) to learn new skills and/or take a risk that we've never taken before.
> My diagnosis IS my identity. And I've built a whole life around it. All of my activities and friends are related to mental illness. My therapist keeps telling me that I have created quite an elaborate life around being depressed. And he's right. But I've been disabled from work for 7 of the last 9 years. I guess I don't really see how I could have done it differently (my previous therapist told me to create a support network - I did, it just contains only people who are also mentally ill...).
>
> It has been suggested that my therapist might not be complaining about my "life", simply pointing it out because if I am going to get better a lot of my "life" will have to change. It still sounds like a complaint to me.
>
> When he asks why I don't do things with "healthier" people I tell him (honestly) that I don't have anything to talk to them about - because I don't have a life. And I can't get a life because I never get out of my little mental illness circle.
>
> I LIKE my friends. But, no, I don't want to be disabled forever (or even for much longer). But I am stuck in this rut, and it just isn't so easy to get out.
>
>
Posted by 64Bowtie on April 12, 2004, at 16:00:14
In reply to Re: When diagnosis is our identity » 64Bowtie, posted by pegasus on April 11, 2004, at 15:53:25
Pegasus, Thanx for the response.
I can never be a child again. I accept that. But, whoa! I was never told about my advanced adult skills, abilities, and the need to perfect them for a life seeking goodness, truth, and beauty, would be full of beautiful outcomes.
I have friends now. They have friends. We accept that we may never feel love, rather only unconditional-approval from and for each other. To date, we all rejoice that we share the load of living between our feelings and our logic in our daily adult lives. We marry our abilities rooted in feelings with our skills abilities, and attributes of adulthood, and life becomes "awesome"!
Example: Did you know that fear freezes your feet so you won't move out of the way of approaching danger? That is fear of the approaching danger. We have a taboo (belief with ancient purpose) to believe our gut at the sight of danger. Holding on tightly to this notion, gritting your teeth, and not accepting a better way, seems the best you can do.
As an adult, the approaching truck squishes us, like the frog in the video game. Whereas, noting and exercizing our options, as an adult, we leap in a safe direction and a safe distance out of the way of the truck. If we are too old, we can actually jump better as a child...... but we won't!!!!! We have a taboo to honor, containing a promise that we will die if we dare move a muscle!!!
First, learn self-respect thoroughly, then learn to respect others; people, places, things, ideas. Learn and practice respect for dangers, in youth only be able to fear.
As children, we become angry and confused when we find out there is no Santa Claus. Some actually start trusting their parents from that point, leading to total disregard for authority by age 12 or thirteen.
...just because of Santa? (Rod must be as crazy as a Loon). Not so fast. You've all seen it. Ya' just couldn't make sense out of it. Here's the deal...
Our parents injunct us with insipiant tools to keep us alive; should's and don'ts. Not a big deal. They seem big when you don't understand why you got clubbed for violating one. Rejoice! That's bad parenting. You don't have to grow up to be one like that. But alas, you do grow up!
Now, when that punishing-parent violates a family taboo and gets caught, our don'ts turn into should's as powerless children, and that parent is forever scarred in our little eyes, not to be trusted. When my Dad got caught cheating on my long-suffering Mom with an "ugly and stupid" customer lady, he was [*&^%#] now in my eyes!!! I would never listen to him ever again. That was 40 years ago.
The other day he said, "You can never get anyone to change by suggestion." I said, "Thanx. I'm gonna get a lot of mileage out of that quote". ...and today I did get mileage out of it, here at Babble.
Something happened to me in the last 40 years, because I don't feel compelled to bring in any feelings that I carried tightly held. There was joy that he had helped me think.
I'll never go back... nor miss... childhood.
Rod
Posted by pegasus on April 12, 2004, at 17:22:17
In reply to Funny, I'll never go back, and now I don't want to » pegasus, posted by 64Bowtie on April 12, 2004, at 16:00:14
Hmm. I'm not sure I get that at all, but it sounds like it works for you. It's curious that you didn't address my comments about a different approach working better for me. But that's fine. Like I said before, different ideas seem to help different people cope. And you seem to be getting a lot from yours, so that's great!
pegasus
Posted by starlight on April 13, 2004, at 12:21:46
In reply to When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by skeptic on April 10, 2004, at 20:53:06
Since I found out what my therapist wrote about me in my medical chart, which he reported to my insurance company (see Terminating Psychiatrist posts) I find myself consumed with my diagnosis. I hate it and it's very frustrating, but every little action that I do, I checking against my "diagnosis." I'm asking myself, "am I trying to manipulate this person to what I want? am I HOPELESSLY lost to herb addiction? am I really histrionic?" I'm afraid to tell my husband what I found out for fear that he'll do the same thing. It's just awful; I'm glad I know, because it gives me some insight as to how I need to change, but to read the words on the page was frightening. I disagree, and friends that I've run this across also think he's full of it, but I still think about it, then wonder if my friends are just trying to soothe my frayed nerves. And I've been consumed with this since I found out last week.
starlight
Posted by deirdrehbrt on April 14, 2004, at 21:53:02
In reply to Re: When diagnosis becomes identity, posted by starlight on April 13, 2004, at 12:21:46
I think this as real good question. I know that I don't call myself DID, or MPD, but I often say "I'm a multiple". Just because I'm bipolar though, doesn't mean that that's who I am. My diagnoses are a part of me, but they are not the total of me.
Falls, I want you to know that when I call you my friend, I am not befriending a diagnosis. If that were all there were to you, I couldn't be your friend. If I were asked "Who is falls?", I would say that she is an intelligent, caring, sensitive, loving, and lovely person. That is by far much more than 'depressed'.
Do the diagnoses of Borderline, Bipolar, Gender Identity Disorder, or Disociative Identity Disorder completely define ME? Heck no. Did being a member of Mensa define me? again, no. They define parts of me, but they aren't who I am.
I can't remember the whole phrase, but James Taylor has a song called "Frozen Man" and it's about a sailor who was lost at sea, frozen in ice, and brought back to life much later. He tells of all the things he did and says "But that's not who I am". I see it that way for us. We've been given a diagnosis, a psychological name, but like our own names, we can change them, but that doesn't change who we are. It's just another part of our life. It's an engrossing and consuming part of our life, but only part.
Dee.
This is the end of the thread.
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