There’s something strangely attractive about the stereotype of the crazy artist. Few may admit it, but the idea that van Gogh’s madness fueled his brilliance offers much hope that their demons can produce something beautiful.
The exact relationship between creativity, mental illness, and psychiatric medications are still largely inconclusive and controversial. It becomes more complex when you consider that creativity is sometimes a symptom of mental illness, like in the case of mania and bipolar disorder. I’m an artist and a writer and have been both for most of my life. And if I’m being candid, much of my earliest art (at least that which doesn’t make me cringe when I look at it) was a product of mania. I was unmedicated, and the elevated mood took unbridled hold on me across the years, causing me to pirouette my way across many late nights, start a plethora of novels, and paint my pain away. It seemed muses were inexhaustible and that ubiquitous “creative spark” was an undying blaze. After my diagnosis, I believed I wasn’t a good artist; I convinced myself I just got lucky across my episodes. But as time passed, I adjusted to the medication and found the right therapist. As a result, I feel stable, and inspiration is starting to knock on the door. When I began getting back in touch with my artsy side, I realized I still have it in me, always have, even in my healthy periods. Mania might provide a surge of ideas and the laser focus and drive to make those ideas a tangible reality. It does not, however, provide innate talent or a deep-seated passion. I have been writing since I could clutch a pen in my little fist and scribble on a page. When I’m in an episode, there’s no way I can concentrate on a piece long enough to make it coherent and well-written. I waltz from project to project, and my mind is spinning too fast to ensure the storm I’m typing up is solid and making sense. However, this is not to say that my mental struggles haven’t inspired my creativity. Most of my writings are inspired by my experiences during episodes and wouldn’t be there if I didn’t have a life riddled with mental health issues. We have bought the idea that medication will dull our sparkle and erase our edge — that it will flatten us, level us out to the point of having no shine at all to our spirits, and live out our days in anonymity and uselessness. We think medication will cause our muses to flee. This is a lie. Before I found the proper medication for my bipolar diagnosis, I was scattered. I had started a couple of novels and a few articles but nothing more. I was busy just trying to survive. However, the year after I got on the proper medication, I consistently published articles on this blog weekly. Finding the proper medication will not dull you. Instead, it may focus your energies, making you more productive than relentless mania and depression. It may spur you on to greater heights of creativity and progress. I learned that people with bipolar disorder have unique experiences that may offer us different emotional and intellectual perspectives on the world. Although we may associate heightened creativity with mania, it is possible to enhance or explore our creativity while supporting our well-being and maintaining a treatment plan for bipolar disorder. Bipolar therapy must include a therapeutic discussion of all creative issues and a developed plan to help us maintain mood stability while retaining and ultimately enhancing our creative abilities. This starts with redefining what the creative process is all about. Energy alone is not creativity. It’s simply the body's fuel being used up at an accelerated pace. The concept of the creative process acknowledges the need for a developing skill set and a formulated plan using the plotting of time as an essential ingredient. It also requires ongoing learning and skill refinement toward an appropriate level of success. This is best achieved through bipolar therapy in the post-stabilization phase when medications and overall treatment are set for long-term maintenance. Having once been so scared that I would lose my entire sense of self, I discovered that a stable life — a balanced life — actually feels like me and that I am, indeed, at the core, an artist and a writer. How about you? How do you nurture your creativity? Join the discussion in the community.
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AuthorI was born in 1986 in Lebanon. I'm still trying to find my passion in life and in the meantime I'm learning to navigate my bipolarity and redefining stability. Archives
February 2024
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