I’ve got a bad habit of being non-compliant with my psychiatric medications – I rarely refill my prescriptions on time. Days, sometimes weeks will go by before I get myself to the pharmacy, and by then my mood is unstable: I’m irritable and my brain chemistry is off, the anxiety and depression having settled in again. It’s an awful feeling, being out of control of my mood like that, so why do I let it happen so often?
Part of it is my laziness, I can admit that. I don’t drive, so it takes a little extra planning for me to get to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions (which, by the way, are wicked expensive – another deterrent). I think the bigger part of the why is fear: the side effects freak me out, the lesser-known long-term effects worry me, and the very idea of being dependent on pills indefinitely makes me extremely uncomfortable.
As a creative, I worry a lot about what being medicated will do to my writing. I’ve had a hard time writing lately, and my mind immediately jumps to the conclusion that it’s the pills: Being stabilized has dulled me. My creativity has become diluted and washed out. It sounds silly now that I’ve written it down, but it’s true – I’m scared of what being medicated long-term will do to my creativity. I’ve pulled so much inspiration from my “dark place,” from living with mental illness.. if that’s taken away, will I not be as good a writer anymore? How can I find my muse and inspiration not from a place of illness but rather a place of wellness? What does it mean to be creative and medicated?
It’s well-known that many of the literary greats suffered from mental illness – Sylvia Plath, Edgar Allan Poe, Kurt Vonnegut, Virginia Woolf – and it’s no coincidence, either. The link between creativity and mental illness goes back to the time of Aristotle, who had written that eminent philosophers, poets, and artists have tendencies toward “melancholia.” There have been modern studies that back this up, suggesting that writers and artists are more likely to have a mental illness as people with certain mental illnesses (such as depression and mood disorders) are more likely to be creative. Psychologist James Kaufman has dubbed the link “the Sylvia Plath effect,” and he’s theorized that “creative people – specifically, eminent female poets – may be more prone to mental illness if they are more vulnerable to extrinsic motivational constraints, such as interpersonal relationships.” (source)
I’ve been on a variety of medications for years now and it’s been okay, although my spotty refill habits have thrown me off a little. If I get more consistent with my meds, maybe things will get better. Perhaps being medicated will enable an uninterrupted flow, a chance for my energy and creativity to come a lot easier than before, and I simply haven’t given it that chance yet. Or maybe it won’t do anything at all. It’s important for me to remind myself that I’m not creative because of my mental illness or even because of my medication, but because that’s who I am and who I’ve always been; my writing is a part of me that won’t change.
How did you have the courage to get help? I’ve been struggling with an (undiagnosed technically I suppose and untreated) ED for 8 or 9 years. I don’t think I have it in me to do this anymore, I just want a life again outside of it. But the “i”m not thin enough” “i don’t deserve this” always, always wins over the frustration and exhaustion. I don’t know what to do anymore. And most of all, I DO NOT want to be medicated and I don’t think any treatment team would ever allow that. Sorry to dump this on you but your posts have made me reflect more on myself and that maybe I need to start making some changes…
Towards the end of my freshman year of college I was spiraling out of control; my therapist convinced me to come out to my parents about it. I withdrew from school and entered inpatient treatment shortly afterwards. I had the same feelings of not being “sick enough” – I STILL have them, in my second round of treatment. The trick is to get help DESPITE those permeating thoughts, because the smallest little nugget of hope is enough to validate your recovery and treatment.
I really think you should get help. At least see a therapist or clinical social worker! They will respect your choice not to be medicated (they can’t prescribe things anyway, so it will probably hardly come up) and they can help you work through a lot of your disordered behaviors and thinking. It’s never too late to start on your recovery – you deserve it and your body will thank you!!!
Best of luck and please feel free to shoot me an email if you need any more support.
xxox
Yeah! This is a huge struggle in my brain too!
I’m been a musician and artist and have been fueled by my depression my entire life. I remember the day that I realized I was afraid to feel better because I was afraid of losing my muse. I was in some group and the therapist was driving me with a million questions when my brain just got tired of pussy-footing around the facts. He asked the right question and it hit me. It seemed so stupid, but he gave me kudos for my honesty and accepted my reasoning as valid, end of discussion. I hadn’t previously made the connection, but it was a huge detriment to my recovery. Not long ago a friend finally convinced me to give meds a try. I do struggle to find inspiration, but I feel it slowly trickling back in. When your head is screwed on straight, it’s much easier to express yourself. It’s easier to get out of bed and actually do something. It takes a good deal of effort, but I just try to focus on things I’m really passionate about.
Anyway, it’s nice to know the sentiment is shared!
I’m reading a book right now called “Touched with Fire: Manic-depressive Illness & the Artistic Temperament” by Kay Redfield Jamison.. I really recommend it! It sheds a lot of light on the issue and it’s reassuring that 1) we’re not alone, and 2) we won’t lose our muses after all.
You make such a good point in saying that it’s easier to get out of bed and actually do something when you’re feeling better; it makes a lot of sense intrinsically because when you’re depressed, it’s hard to do much of anything, let alone create.
It takes a little more work to dig out my creative impulses, but they’re still there, and that’s comforting. We shouldn’t feel afraid of getting better but rather do as you said – focus on the things we’re really passionate about! :)
be well!