Primitive mental state-that is what I strongly prefer to say when my students tell me that their patient, or their patient’s mother has “Borderline Personality Disorder.” My reasons are many, which begin with I find this diagnosis misogynistic, given to women who exhibit colorful or spirited emotional responses to stress, thereby imposing a judgment in which emotional reactions are somehow pathological. I accept that women and men, as a general rule, express themselves differently, but to say that a woman who describes dark moments in her feelings a “borderline” is to inhibit the facilitation of emotional expression. Second, I find this diagnosis a way of saying that the doctor does not like the patient, and finds the patient’s emotional experience objectionable. It is as if the doctor perceives the patient in a compassionate way, then the doctor diagnoses Major Depression, but if the doctor starts to feel uncomfortable with a patient, then he/she is more likely to throw the personality disorder label on the patient. Third, the terminology “Borderline Personality Disorder” does not convey the process in which the personality needs help. I prefer the developmental model of personality in which some of us fail to develop, or we develop and then we regress to more primitive expressions of our feelings which often involve rage and bodily and/or property destruction. If we were to use the term “primitive mental state” then we convey a certain hopefulness, that with all states of mind, they are fluid and subject to maturity and emotional growth, whereas “Borderline Personality Disorder” implies a life-long struggle which borders, pun intended, on hopelessness.
My students, taught this diagnostic system, are almost always taken aback by my objection to our language, which shapes our thinking, and hence our interventions. The advantage of a big institution, like UCLA, for example, is that students are exposed to multiple ways of approaching this complicated organ, we refer to as the brain. This seems to give little comfort, when I encourage them to challenge their rock stars. Students, like patients, have a transference to their teachers, and so learning new information, in such an intimate setting, is not an emotionally neutral experience, but rather it is an experience filled with identifications and defensiveness. Therein lies my challenge. I need to work with both the conscious and unconscious aspects of my student’s brain, while at the same time, not go too deeply into their own personal dynamics. Like psychotherapy, this is a delicate dance, which most of the time goes well, but occasionally I need to be mindful, not only the layers in treatment, but the layers in teaching as well.