We all know those classic stories of the “mad” creative genius – the artist’s mental illnessjourney being as well known (or more well-known) than their works of art or literature or music.
Many are aware of the suicides of famous writers and musicians such as Sylvia Plath,Virginia Woolf, Ernest Hemingway, Hunter S. Thompson, Chester Bennington, and KurtCobain. Using this small group as an example, we can recognize a mental illness that ultimately took their lives, but we are also aware of the legend surrounding their intense lives and tragic ends. To hear of so many creative superstars suffering from depression, anxiety, bi-polar disorders, and more, their struggles become romanticized as they are fused with their art in the public mythos. It can often be perceived that they were great because they struggled so much.
But in no way do you need to suffer to create great art.
A contemporary writer, Jonathan Franzen, writes in one of the essays in his collection, How to Be Alone:
“Depression presents itself as a realism regarding the rottenness of the world in general and rottenness of your life in particular. But the realism is merely a mask for depression’s actual essence, which is an overwhelming estrangement from humanity. The more persuaded you are of your unique access to the rottenness, the more afraid you become of engaging with the world; and the less you engage with the world, the more perfidiously happy-faced the rest of humanity seems for continuing to engage with it.”
In essence, a mental illness lies to you about your “special” connection to intimate knowledge those who do not have a mental illness seemingly lack. There is no “lack” – simply a difference in viewpoint. You experience the people around you, your physical environments in a new way, and you process thoughts and work on art differently. But different isn’t bad, it is just dissimilar to what the illness is telling you “works” for the greats. That dark shadow that looms within you wants nothing more than the cozy confines of your body and soul to call home – so it will manipulate you using what you value most. For artists, that will be their creativity.
An artist’s work will change as they grow – and it can be a healthy outlet during times of distress. But do not constantly suffer for your art. Your art will always be there, as you are suffering or healthy. They will just be different due to altered states of being in the world.
T.S. Eliot (known as Terribly Sad Eliot) wrote genre-defining poetry while steeped in depression. Then, when he got older, started a family and focused on being happier and healthier, he created the classic play, Cats, for his children. It was incredibly different from his earlier, deeply existential poetry, but it was great nonetheless.
While there’s a correlation between creativity and those who suffer from mental illness, that does not mean they are forever fused. You are still creative with or without your illness. You are just creative differently because you are looking at the world in new ways.