The Mad Yet Sensible Artist, an Inner Dialogue (or I suppose, a monologue)

Second place winner of the Synapse Storytelling Contest for nonfiction.

Art always seems to portray madness so romantically. But the reality couldn’t be so different.

WHAT IS ART ANYWAYS?

Why did Van Gogh cut off his ear? 

There are many theories out there, the most common being that it was self-inflicted out of madness. But it’s all just speculation that, when substantiated by his deteriorating mental health, was suspected to be true. Madness is so complicated, with so many layers and depth, that it’s an injustice to the sufferers to assume that the behaviors during these times are always without reason. Just because the answers are not readily available does not mean things happen without cause. Exploring the unknown can oftentimes lead to getting lost. Some involuntary pioneers of this unknown never came back, but there are stories of those that have stepped over the line, decided it was not their cup of tea, and returned to reality. Many of these pioneers, however, were only able to find their way back with the help of a multitude of people: medical professionals, friends, family, and community. Assuming that people with mental illnesses are always dangerous and unpredictable prevent these people from getting the proper treatment, especially the psychosocial healing that is needed, which can only happen when the community embraces them. 

Why is it that mental illness is often linked with creativity? 

I believe it’s because creativity requires one to think outside of the box, and mental illnesses do exactly that, whether one chooses to come out of the box or not. They take its consumers to places outside the norms of reality - taking trips to cloud 9, directly to the depths of hell, or somewhere in between where there are no straight edges and everything is just warped. These alternate realities can make dreams come true even just briefly or be the parasite of despair, leeching off human happiness. But just because one is creative doesn’t mean they have a mental illness and vice versa.  

I wonder if the painting Scream by Edvard Munch was a portrayal of the hallucination that haunted him.

What did it feel like to get your mental illness diagnosis(es)?

Hmm. Honestly, I thought it was funny at first. But I was also in the honeymoon phase with my newfound life illness (meaning, I was delulu AF and getting a taste of my first tango with bipolar disorder; in other words, I was organically, intoxicatingly HIGH). Later, the comedic effect sort of wore off and I was confused, angry, and devastated. I have always heard of people with severe mental disorders who had psychotic episodes but never knew that a “normal” person like me could get it. Someone else told me that it felt like a “death sentence” to them. I suppose that’s an accurate depiction. And that’s a problem. 

What is it like to live with (a) mental illness(es)?

It depends on what illness you have and, also who you ask. Pretty sure everyone has a mental illness to some degree but focusing too much on the label, which the sole purpose is to identify what to treat, distracts from just trying to live a happy, good life. 

For me personally, it’s definitely not a walk in the park but also has its perks. The perk being I can get high naturally so my wallet doesn’t cry but the not-so-good part being that I can’t control it and oftentimes gets out of control. But that’s not even the best part. The best part is my paranoia. A friend once told me that my mind sees two events and connects those events with a line that I created, meaning that there was no relationship between those two events at all but my mind is just being an a**hole. But people act based on how they think, and the paranoia has very negative, angry repercussions for me. On the flip side, when something SUS does happen, I gaslight myself into thinking maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me again. Additionally, other people think along the same lines (“are you sure it’s not your mind playing tricks on you again?”). I’m less likely to be believed when something happens. 

Lionel Aldridge, a famous football player diagnosed with schizophrenia, once said, “I think my life is real normal right now…I feel blessed. I can pay the bills and be happy and I don’t have the responsibilities of a regular job…All I’m doing is being retired. I think it’s heaven.” (Clark, n.d.) Damn, the power of retirement everyone.

You can be happy with a mental illness diagnosis, just like how you can be happy with diabetes, or an ugly mole that you refuse to surgically remove because you decide that is a part of you and is actually beautiful. 

Living with mental illness is not hopeless. Sometimes you break a leg and need a crutch but eventually you get to a point where you can sell those crutches in a garage sale…or donate them I guess. There may be times you break your leg multiple times, unfortunately, and you regret selling your crutches. Or eventually you just need a wheelchair. But more often than not, there are many untold stories out there about how everyday people overcame their need for crutches/ wheelchairs and led happy, fulfilling lives. It’s important to see and understand the debilitating nature of mental illnesses but it’s also crucial to realize that’s not the end. Think outside the box. Mentally ill people are supposedly more creative, use that to your advantage. If you’re not creative, then seek help. I heard someone once say that wisdom can be found in community (Manuel Tapia, MD, Thomas N. Burbridge Award UCSF video; yes I watch those). There’s no need to suffer alone and if anything, you seeking help or sharing your story may be exactly what someone else needs as well.  

In a healthy, thriving community, we remind each other what kindness is and don’t let each other forget. 

Trying to find harmony with the world around you and your mind is a delicate group dance of sorts, with many characters like Medications, Walking, Vit D, Sleep, Deep Convos, Small Talk, Awkwardness, Charisma, Hobbies, No Hobbies, so on and so forth.

Tragedy, rapture, solace, nothingness. When life is “good,” but nothing feels right.

Euphoria, euphoria, euphoria; how high can you go?

Gloom and Despair; is there a bottom to this well I’m drowning in?

Silence…is golden? I’m not sure.

Everything is a disaster but there is peace.

Does art need a structure? My madness didn’t have one.

Madness is, actually, quite romantic.