There are some creative individuals who are burdened by a mental disorder. For many, the issue of creativity is tied to mania. They deal with their finest displays of artistic fervor and accomplishment in their manic phase of a bipolar diagnosis. The flame of original thinking combined with an expansive self-confidence propels them into a productive frenzy. At these times, artistic, bipolar types revel in the quantity and endurance one needs to take on a project.
Mania is tied to the creative impulse. While prolific as one can be in mania, a mood shift dispels original thinking. When an episode has run its course, the artist finds himself in an odd position, yearning for creative release, but too depressed to reclaim it. The artist gives way to the patient. Medication comes with normalcy and life takes on a drab, passionless existence. The artistic, bipolar patient decries his situation, but inspiration is nowhere to be found.
A common complaint of bipolar clients is their level of creative expression. It comes as no surprise that many such persons choose their creative manias over medicated normalcy, while others give up, take their pills, and make the best out of a stale existence. When mania is suppressed, boredom steps in; or so goes the given wisdom. This is true in the short term, but not necessarily the long.
In the immediate, medication locks down the fountain of creative urge. The switch is flipped off abruptly as a fantasy life is replaced by the more immediate needs of everyday. Often there is the sense that life has been drained of its essence, and this state is all there is, a spiritual wasteland governed by the pills one must take for stability.
My experience of 35 years says otherwise. There is a creative life after medication. It just takes time and persistence to resurface. Inspiration reasserts itself a bit at a time and needs to be nurtured. Once a stable platform is rebuilt, thoughts turn from the mundane. While initially stability struggles with staleness, appreciation of the commonplace spawns shoots of possibility. This takes time, and patience is of primary value. One reacquaints oneself with a creative vision a piece at a time. Eventually, hope for the ridiculous and the sublime re-emerge. Medication cannot hold back the urge to a larger view of life.
Thirty five years of living with manic depression has taught me that even when I give up in despair, I keep on growing, although I am unaware of this at the time. Life grows at its own pace. Becoming aware and being thankful are accomplished in small steps.
Twenty five years ago when I was newly recovering, there was no urge to write, sing, make music, or shape metal. At the time, I simply wanted to get back my life. I wasn’t interested in anything else. It was difficult enough to discipline myself to get up and go to work everyday. Eventually, that learned, I progressed to venturing out to meet others, to engage in uncomfortable but pursuant conversation. It was five years before I picked up a pen to write. I had nothing to say before that. Eventually my ear for music returned, and learning to share myself with others began. All of this led to a vitality in my everyday life.
During this time, I was, as I still am, on medication. It’s about a regrowth of spirit that helps us reclaim our lives. Life is a verb. It’s about doing. Medication cannot teach us this, only a life lived can do that. It’s like being in a dark closet. You keep bumping into walls whichever way you turn as you feel the bruises form. Eventually, the pain goes away and some light creeps in. You find that the walls you bumped into were actually mirrors. The longer you look, the more light seeps in. You see yourself again and again, always in a new and different way. And so, creative endeavor emerges over time. Medication can’t take that away. In fact, it can help.
Learning to Find Creativity After Medication for Bipolar
Labels:
bipolar disorder,
bipolar disorder recovery,
coping with bipolar disorder,
creativity and bipolar,
medication bipolar disorder,
Mental Illness
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4 comments:
It's amazing how I feel so alone in what I'm going through, and then I read an article like yours and it takes the words right out of my head. My family tells me that psychiatry saved my life. I can't help thinking that it ruined it. I hope time heals it as you said, but 5 years is a long time for a life-long artist to go without inspiration or creative energy. I feel like I've been attacked and that my aggressors are telling me what they did has helped me. I miss myself.
Dear Anonymous,
When you are in the midst of a lack of inspiration and creativity and you are an artist or otherwise impassioned creator, nothing that someone, outside yourself, says to emiliorate your loss is going to be greeted with enjoyment or hope. In memory of an earlier period in my life where I went for years without the drive, interest or desire to bring something original to fruition, I felt stale, unappealing and devoid of any color in my life. I merely existed. So it is as I read your response to my post on creativity. There were times I forced myself to take on a project but it never lasted for any period of time. In the end, I fashioned several art metal pieces but I could not work it into an ongoing pursuit.
I can understand your pessimism and sense of loss. Psychiatry, medication can help reestablish a plateau or platform of stability from which to begin an inquiry, but it cannot address the debacle of mental illness past or the coming to terms with the present sense of despair of having somehow lost your way. For that to be corrected is a job of self reflection. It may be helpful to work with a therapist sensitive to the artistic spirit. Also, there is a group called Arts Anonymous I went to many years ago which was helpful to me, a support group like AA but devoted to artists, some of whom were struggling with creative block. Perhaps there is a group in your area. I was in a cold dark place emotionally then and it helped me reduce my sense of loss.
One last thought. I found what helped me reinvent my creative side was to emphasize different mediums of creative expression then I had done previously. Instead of metal work and drawing, I began to write and learned a new musical instrument. This had the net effect of not only working in a new medium but also lending energy to my old ones. Perhaps this is doable for you.
There is an old poem by Beat Poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti entitled " I Am Waiting". There is a line of the poem which is relevant here. It goes " I am perpetually awaiting a rebirth of wonder. " I wish you well and hope for your redemption of spirit and vision.
I needed this so much. I have reached the point of self sabotage so badly that it's threatening to destruct my almost completed degree, friendships and more. I'm always frightened the medication will take my spark and what I sometimes think of during my manic deluded stages as my "powers". I am back and forth only desperate for help when it's too late and the cycle of incomplete meds repeats. But the depression, paranoia and urge too self destruct are not worth the gamble anymore. Thank-you.
Thanks for your profound insight. I read between the lines though and sense that your creativity seems permanently muffled. All that effort, all those meds, do you ever feel like you're just a watered down fraction of who you really are? I guess I'm still stubbornly avoiding the meds as they made me suicidal. Keep trying.
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