Kristen Hamling Photo/File
Increasingly the psychological fraternity appear to be conjuring up new ways to diagnose the general population.
It seems that quirky has become the new Aspergers; enjoying a bottle of wine each evening earns you a diagnosis of alcohol use disorder (probably rightly so); and if you think you're doing okay and don't need diagnosing, then think again - Doctor Google will surely have a diagnosis for you in no time.
Despite my concerns surrounding the ever-increasing pathologising of the human condition, I believe that a diagnosis can have a huge benefit. However, the benefit will depend on the perspective you take.
For instance, if you receive a psychological diagnosis with a deficit perspective (for example: "Oh no, there is something wrong with me") you will manage the condition very differently to receiving the news from a strength-based (or growth) perspective (for example: "Ah, so are there things I can do to deal with this and overcome the barriers?").
Receiving the news from a growth or strength-based perspective means that you will jump into action, seek to learn more about the diagnosis and what actions can be taken to ensure that the condition is managed effectively. Depending on the condition, you may even focus on what can be gained from the diagnosis.
If you receive a diagnosis from a deficit perspective, then there is probably going to be tears. You will tend to see the diagnosis as a weakness, rendering you inferior to the rest of the population.
Even though I have worked as a psychologist for more than 10 years now and have felt very comfortable discussing diagnoses with hundreds of people, I've never faced a diagnosis myself.
This changed recently when my husband articulated in a family medical appointment: "Can we get Kristen assessed?" and "Could we also look to getting her medicated? Life would be so much more relaxing".
The question was entirely appropriate at the time, and initially I burst out laughing.
However, after talking through a possible diagnosis of ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) with a psychiatrist, I felt strangely ill at ease. My first thought was: "Eek, there really is something wrong with me?" Luckily the person exploring this diagnosis with me had a strength-based perspective. He spoke about all the positives of ADHD and about the many successful people who have this condition - the focus wasn't on the D for Deficit, but rather on the D for Different.
This perspective helped me to liken my ADHD brain to a brain that acts like a super fast sports car. It moves at the speed of a sports car, but has the brakes of a Mini Minor.
I can think about 500 things simultaneously, I have abundant energy, I tend to speak before I think, I don't perceive risk in the same way that other people do, and I certainly have to work harder at knowing when and how to apply the brakes.
Although there are loads of positives to having lots of energy, I can wear people out and I get overwhelmed at times. Consequently, I have had to learn how to strengthen my brakes. If I accept this diagnosis in line with a growth mindset - "Practise, effort and hard work will not only help me to manage this condition, but make it work to my advantage" - then there are no negatives.
By not accepting this diagnosis with a fixed mindset - "This is the way I am and there is nothing I can do about it, I am doomed for a life of problems" - I protect my self-esteem and grow my resilience and confidence.
Part of writing this article is to show some leadership around accepting a diagnosis with a growth mindset. I don't mind telling people I have an ADHD brain when I believe it is not a deficit, but simply something to be taken advantage of - albeit with the right brakes.
How will you respond if you are diagnosed? I hope my message encourages you to consider it with a growth mindset.