There is a frequent debate about the term ‘Borderline Personality Disorder’ (BPD).
The term ‘borderline’ was coined in 1937 when it was believed that patients with the disorder were on the borderline between psychosis and neurosis. This is no longer seen as necessarily the case, and definitely not the case for everyone with the diagnosis, and today people prefer to call BPD ‘Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder (EUPD).
I was actually asked which I prefer my diagnosis to be called, and I chose BPD. I know so many people hate this and choose EUPD, but being called ’emotionally unstable’, while probably accurate, just does not sit comfortably with me. To me, I think EUPD is a much more stigmatising label. ‘Emotionally unstable’ makes you sound, well, like an overly emotional mess and like someone to be avoided. It also sounds much more like one symptom of the disorder, albeit a major one, rather than a collective term for a set of symptoms. Ignoring that issue, I would prefer the term ‘Emotional Dysregulation Disorder’ which is occasionally used, but I actually think that BPD is more of an attachment disorder than anything else. There is a disorder called ‘Reactive Attachment Disorder’ but this is usually only diagnosed in children. I wonder what they think happens to these children when they hit 18? I think they probably, if their problems continue past that age, get diagnosed with BPD (which is usually only diagnosed in over 18’s).
That bothers me. Under 18 and I have an attachment disorder. Over 18 and I have a personality disorder, which is far more stigmatising.
Emotional instability, usually referred to as ’emotional dysregulation’ is a huge part of BPD. But this instability goes much further than emotions; it can be instability in a person’s sense of self/identity, and I think this can stem from being brought up in a very unstable environment. I think people would find out things about my childhood and call it pretty bad, and it was, sometimes. And sometimes it was not. Sometimes we were like any other family; happy and sad in “normal” ways. But things changed quickly and suddenly, usually without warning. I reckon growing up in that kind of environment, where you do not know what things are going to be like hour to hour, it makes you feel like nothing is safe, and that you do not know where you are going. One minute I had two solid, grounded parents and then in a blink of an eye one was back to abusing alcohol and the other was violent and would disappear off the face of the planet for a few days. There would be periods of stability in my Mum’s mental health, and then in the blink of an eye she would be carted off back to the psychiatric ward.
And to be honest, it felt normal. It was our normal. And when you live your life always ready for things to get worse, not knowing when it is going to happen, you become incredibly hypervigilant, and you develop ways of coping with it. Sometimes these coping mechanisms are unhealthy and dangerous, but regardless of that, they serve some kind of purpose. With regards to my anorexia and self-harm, I have often felt like those two things were always going to be there for me, that they were not going to abandon me, and so I clung onto them, sometimes with all my might, and other times just loosely, in case I needed them – never able to fully let go.
Education was my one positive coping mechanism, as I have wrote about before. School and college were always going to be there on a Monday morning at 9am. The supportive tutors, lecturers and support workers were always going to be there too. It was a safe haven, and especially during my time at school, it was the one place I did not have to pretend. This is quite different to some people’s experiences, where school is a place where they put on a mask, but for me school was where I could let myself feel my emotions and express them, and home was where I concealed everything. This was at times problematic as things would spill out uncontrollably. I would fall apart. But it was also needed at times. As I have become older I have gained a lot of control over this and while that seems like a good thing, it does mean that university tends to be a place I wear a mask to some extent – but I have a support worker within the university who I do not do this too. I guess it is more controlled now.
So, what is emotional dysregulation?
Emotional dysregulation (ED) is a term used in the mental health community to refer to an emotional response that is poorly modulated, and does not fall within the conventionally accepted range of emotive response. ED may be referred to as labile mood (marked fluctuation of mood) or mood swings.
This is something I have become increasingly aware of in myself over time. When I was in a child and adolescent psychiatric unit aged 15, I was diagnosed with cyclothymia, which is basically (and this is very simplified), a form of rapid cycling Bipolar disorder. This has never been mentioned again, and this is because while cyclothymia means that your moods change more frequently than found in typical Bipolar cases, my moods change much quicker than in cyclothymia, and approximately 50% of the time, in reaction to something happening around me.
It can be quite scary. Last Friday I ended up in A&E as I mentioned in my last post. I felt like I was at one of my worst points in a long time, and that was fair to say. Now, five days later, I am at one of my best points. It is a very unpredictable thing, that makes living difficult. I know that while I am feeling pretty good at this moment in time, in a few hours I could be laid in bed trying to sleep and having really negative, dangerous, thoughts and urges. While thoughts cannot hurt me, they can lead to me acting on them, which can hurt me. Learning to have these thoughts and feelings, these urges, and not act on them is one of the hardest parts of ‘recovery’.
When I am in the mindset of wanting to act on those thoughts, practically none of me can see any reason not to. I mean it varies; sometimes I can. Sometimes I can be very rational and recognise that feelings will pass, but other times the feelings are so intense and I lose grip of what I would call my “true self”, and there really is no talking me around when I am in that place.
I really want to end treatment and “get on with my life” as I keep saying. My support worker at university told me that while that would be very lovely for me to do, I need to think realistically about my ability to handle the responsibility of a full-time job right now. On my good days, I would be fantastic for a full-time job, but on my bad days, or during my rough patches, it would be a disaster. Right now, being a full-time student and working part-time is perfect for me. Work is absolutely perfect. I will admit I feel like I stumble my way through university. How I managed to get a degree, sometimes I really do not know. But it is manageable, and I am really lucky to have really accommodating lecturers. But in the working world, especially a full-time graduate scheme, this would be less likely to be the case which is why I am spending the next two days deciding whether it would be best to pull out of the graduate scheme assessment centre and focus on continuing with my treatment plan.
Does this mean someone with BPD can never have a full-time job? Of course not. I am sure thousands do. There are many extremely high-functioning people with BPD. BPD is often categorised into low functioning and high functioning (and I am pretty sure people can be a combination of the two). I think I am a combination of the two. Just the other day an A&E doctor told me he had never met someone with my diagnosis who was doing as well as I am, nor doing a masters. I reckon he would be surprised how many other people with BPD are doing high level qualifications, but that most of the people with BPD who find their ways into emergency departments are the ones who perhaps are not.
- Low Functioning Borderline – The “Low Functioning” borderline is what most people think of when they are first introduced to the condition. Low functioning BPDs are a living train wreck. They have intense difficulties taking care of their basic needs, are constantly experiencing mood swings. They also have an extremely hard time managing any sort of relationship with another human being. Low Functioning BPDs are often hospitalized more than other BPD types, for the very reason that they can’t live productively without constant coaching and supervision. These patients are challenging for all but the most experienced psychiatrists. Unless otherwise treated, low functioning borderlines lead self destructive lives and attempt to manipulate those around them with desperate acts, including self harm (cutting, etc.).
(The comment regarding manipulation is not necessarily accurate. Often what appears like manipulation in BPD is just a person’s lack of ability to get their needs met, or express themselves, in a normal way – someone without BPD might need some extra support, and turn to a close friend and ask for it, whereas someone with BPD may struggle to recognise what they need and therefore find other ways to manage their feelings i.e. self-harm. Contrary to believing self-harm is a manipulative and attention seeking behaviour, self-harm is usually a very private, secretive thing – and any way, needing attention is not a bad thing. We all need attention.)
- High Functioning Borderline – The High Functioning Borderline Personality shares many core aspects of the low functioning borderline personality, except for the fact that they can manage their lives, appear to be productive, and generally keep their relationships civil (even diplomatic in nature). High Functioning borderlines can appear to be normal, driven people one moment; then moody, inconsolable, and manipulative the next. Somehow, there is a mechanism within the minds of High Functioning Borderlines that allows them to lead somewhat “competent” lives, despite the fact that they are in a constant battle with BPD. High functioning BPDs are no better than low functioning: it’s basically the same face wearing a different mask.
These two “categories” are a bit too black and white for my liking. I am high functioning in terms of work and academically with my current workload. If I had a full-time job this would probably reduce. I am very low functioning in terms of mood swings, social functioning and self-destructive tendencies.
The thing about emotional dysregulation is, you can learn ways to manage it – and there are a huge number of ways that may or may not work for you personally, which I will discuss in a following blog (because I am on 1800 words and quite frankly that is ridiculous!)