Creative Madness

 "If someone witnessed my behavior at the time and labeled it a manic episode, I would not blame them. Certainly, for some time afterward, having been trained as a clinical psychologist within the Western medical model, I wondered if I was bipolar. Early into my spiritual emergency, I called a psychologist friend and described to him my symptoms. He said that I sounded like his manic-depressive patients in the in-patient unit and that if I went to a hospital, they would probably medicate me. Instead of checking myself into a psychiatric unit, I brought myself to a Jungian psychoanalyst." - Dr. Nisha Gupta

Last week, we spoke at length about the creative mind and madness. What constitutes creativity has been a question that has led us along journeys. What constitutes madness feels as though it could take a similar route. Some of the greatest creative minds of our time have experienced periods of intense upheaval and emotion that resulted in amazing pieces of art, music, poetry, and more.- And that has also caused them insurmountable pain and anxiety, even costing some of them their lives.

This quote, along with our discussion from our class session, is what I've found myself thinking about this week. Any psychologist trained in the Western medical model is likely to look at these kinds of episodes and label them as pathology regardless of what brilliant creation may emerge from it. At what point do these experiences become labeled as madness and at what point should steps be taken to "help" the people who are "suffering?"

Personally, I feel as though it needs to be a personal choice whenever possible. Do you feel as though you would benefit from therapy? From in-patient care? From medication? Or do you, despite the discomfort of some of these episodes, feel that the outcome is well worth it? 

I have to acknowledge that for some people, steps may need to be taken for their safety and well-being but who decides when those steps need to occur? What would this world lack, in terms of beauty and creation, if we just... medicated everyone who thought or functioned differently?

Personally, throughout my life, I have struggled with what the doctors have labeled as manic-depressive episodes. I can go for days, writing, drawing, painting, playing the piano, and deep cleaning my home while I forget that I need to sleep, eat, go to the bathroom, shower, or socialize. I enjoy it intensely and it drives everyone around me absolutely nuts. - And when it's over, nothing else happens. I collapse in a heap of unhappy blah and someone has to put a cup of tea beside me, a piece of dry toast in my hand, and coax me into the shower or the bed. There is very little in between for me at times, shifting directly from one to the other and back again.

Should I be medicated? My ex-girlfriend thought so. I had fought it for years and finally, she won out. I tried several different medications before we settled into a holding pattern. I could eat and sleep normally but life held... no joy. It held no meaning. I continued to take the pills though because she swore I was "better." What did that say about me? That I was better on drugs? What did it say about our relationship, that she liked me better drugged? I still think about that sometimes. I continued for a couple months after our breakup and then weaned off.

I went back to my erratic behavioral patterns but I felt like myself again. I churned out stories. I painted murals in our home. I played the piano until all hours of the night and day. And I've never taken another pill to "help" with my "symptoms" again. Am I hard to love? Maybe. Am I hard to live with? Probably. But I'd rather be alone, creating, than with someone who preferred that dulled and faded version of me. (Coincidentally, my husband puts up with a great deal from me in this arena but I think he loves me more deeply and fully than I thought any human I didn't give birth to could.)

Now is probably a good time to interject, however, that unmedicated, I can see first-hand my instabilities. I am prone to suicidal ideation and other self-destructive habits. But I think of it as a trade off: I can accomplish a great deal of genuinely creative and well-put-together works. I just can't let the darkness win when it comes knocking.

But I digress. I believe that Western medicine has a pill for everything. I think we are made to believe we have to fit into these tidy little boxes in order to be successful or loved. I think if we experience anything that is difficult to explain, it is labeled as pathology. And I think that it all comes at a cost. Can madness exist without creativity? Certainly. Can creativity exist without madness? I'm not so certain there.

In addition to our conversations last week, we created collages. It was an intuitive practice, choosing the pieces and patterns that called to us, piecing them together on cardstock before meditating on them, and asking what messages the art held for us.

"Do not doubt the presence of the Divine Feminine. She is the key, the source of knowledge, the bringer of life, the mover of the seas. She is Elohim."

"The world is fractured and not always what it seems. You have the power to make what you want. Create the ships and send them to sail on the ocean you designed and control." 

(This has become the background on my phone.)

"Pieces of color, light showing through into the darkness. Even fractured broken things can be made into things of beauty. Even old glass can shine. Repurpose what you've been given to create a light greater and more beautiful than before."

The over-arching message from the Universe:
"Have faith in your ability to manifest your destiny."

Madness...