Diagnosis

So on Monday, after a few tears, shaken heads, cursing, crying, shaking and sweating I finally was given a diagnosis, by far it was one of the most challenging things I have ever had to do.
To talk and be scrutinized on every word you are saying, for someone to sit and pick your thoughts apart bit by bit, and knowing that you only have one option if you want this to all change and get better, and that is to tell the truth (the whole truth).

For the past ten years I have been trying to kid myself into thinking that I am perfectly fine and coping with it alone, and brave facing it as such. Until a few weeks ago when I completely lost the plot and a good friend sat me down and told me enough was enough and I need to speak to someone....
I didnt like that very much but being brash i decided to see my GP. After lots of negotiating i finally agreed for her to refer me to the Mental Health Team - who believe me to have Borderline Personality Disorder.
This diagnosis has made no difference to me at all because at the end of it whether it has a name or not I am still the same person with the same difficulties, and I am still the same person who hates counsellors, who hates therapy, talking therapies and everything that surrounds them.
Yet as the psychy person said ' there isnt a magic pill to make it all go away, and talking therapy is the only way forward'
As she gave me the number and has since left me to book it - ha that is another step that I've got to take - unwillingly. I hate talking, i dont even talk to my friends so why anyone thinks that i would talk to a stranger... Who Knows. But hey lets watch this space.....