The impact of art on mental illness…
Much has been made of the disproportionate propensity of writers and other artists toward depression, other mental illness and suicide, as compared to other professions. The significance of this phenomenon has prompted many to make sterotypical assumptions that artists are by nature psychologically disturbed. Yet there are numerous examples of creative geniuses who are not emotionally ill, as well as many examples of mentally ill people who are not particularly creative. The connection between art and mental illness is not a simple equation. This article will attempt to explore what the connection is and is not. I believe that the creative process can support healing and growth, much more often than it can be associated with harm.
I am a Mental Health Counselor, trained in Psychodrama and Expressive Therapies, with more than 40 years of experience as a therapist. I am a writer and a poet who has found creativity to be a profoundly powerful tool of healing. I have suffered from and prevailed over childhood sexual abuse, wrestling with symptoms of PTSD and Major Depression over the years. I am disturbed by the association of art with mental illness, and hope to shed some light on the subject. First, I will lay out my thoughts on how creativity works in the context of the mind.
In my 1981 master’s thesis, Creativity and Vibration, A Visual Model of the Psyche, and later in chapter 4 of The Wonderful Powers of Being(Welwood Publications, 1997, and Illumination Book Chapters, 2021) I explore concepts of mind and creative process more comprehensively than is possible in the confines of this article. Borrowing and improvising on theories of Carl Jung, Silvano Arieti, and concepts of an universe in which eveything is energy in vibration (proposed by the mystical text The Kybalion) I proposed a visualization of the mind as a sphere divided into three parts, each characterized by distinct frequencies of vibration. (This visualization of the mind does not correlate to neurological anatomy so far as I can determine; it is psychodynamic rather than biologic.) The central, or unconscious mind, vibrates at a low frequency; the middle, or preconscious mind, vibrates at a higher frequency, and the outer, or conscious mind, vibrates even more rapidly.
Each region of the brain contains points and patterns of vibration, which represent images, perceptions and ideas, variously attracting and repelling each other. In The Wonderful Powers of Being, I use magnets as symbolic of such points.
In “normal” circumstances, these points and constellations remain in their related areas of the mind. In the creative process, however, the mind focuses energy into more than one pattern, in various regions of the mind, sequentially or at the same time, changing their frequencies of vibration. The stage of Engagement has been entered. The mind is trying to resolve the dissonance caused by an unresolved problem, pattern or unrealized creation. Unconscious, preconscious, and conscious minds become aware of patterns they are usually not aware of, migrating to different areas according to their shifting frequency of vibration. This requires a sustained effort of mental energy, and may not produce immediate resolution:
“The conscious focus on what appears to be insoluble takes a lot of energy. A frustrating awareness may build that the harder one tries, the further away completion seems to be. The giving up of the struggle may be dramatic, as in exhausted collapse. It may be more matter of fact, a decision to let the matter rest, take a walk, have a meal, return to the problem another day. To an outside observer, it looks as though the creative effort is over. What has really happened is that the process has moved into the next phase, Gestation:” (from The Wonderful Powers of Being.)
“ It is as though the process or engagement has pumped energy into all the mental bits of the creation to be, changing their nature, as a Bunsen burner pumps heat into chemicals in a test tube. Sometimes very soon, and sometimes much later, all those bits of creation find the right pattern to fall into. When they form a new compound the result can be a dramatic output of heat and light, pushing the mind into a state of Illumination:”
Illumination may be very dramatic and exhilarating, temporarily resulting in the creator appearing manic or hypomanic.
The creative process, then, alters the structure of the mind to allow the regions of the mind to be less discrete, which allows the interaction of patterns normally not exposed to each other, which in turn allows creative fusion. The resulting creation is a combination of conscious, preconscious, and unconscious influences. It can result in meeting a goal which psychoanalysis and many other forms of psychotherapy hold highly important, “making the unconscious conscious” (to allow resolutions to internal mental conflicts of those receiving care).
Art, dance, music, writing, and psychodrama therapists all use this process in facilitating psychotherapy. This would not be the case if creativity was not curative. It certainly would not be the case if creativity’s influence was pathological.
The process of creativity supporting healing can be seen in A Victor’s Psalm, a collection of my poetry published in 1996 by Color Wheel Press, and republished in a re-edited version by Illumination Book Chapters on Medium.
Many find the first chapter, “Horror Show”, difficult to read. It depicts acts of sexual abuse to children, and the impact of those on children, graphically. Those prone to flashbacks of their own abuse may wish to avoid it. The ugly material comes from memories that had been safely buried in my mind until I could cope with them; the unconscious and pre-conscious becoming conscious in a series of terrifying flashbacks initially triggered when I participated in a men’s recovery retreat aptly titled “Underlying Causes.” My education as an Expressive Therapist furnished me with ample preparation for the process but nothing could protect me from the horror. This obscene material had been influencing my mental health and behavior for many years. It had driven me close to self destruction. It had to come out for my healing to begin. Yet if this chapter had been the beginning and end of the collection, I’m dubious it could have helped me or anyone else. The rest of the chapters are easier to read, though not entirely free of traumatic material. My recovery was not precisely linear, and neither is the collection, but the chapters mirror the stages of my recovery.
The second chapter, “Out of Ashes”, is mostly about my experience of early healing, with the healers and others I was fortunate to have the support of. The third chapter, “Primal Light”, starts with an opening concrete poem, “Skyward”, using the image of a warped tree (…deformed by fallen elders…) recovering and growing (..skyward, seeking light, with weird beauty.) The fourth chapter, “Awe Mixed Up”, continues and amplifies the celebration of life and nature (Inevitably, regardless of what’s worn, our singing souls dance naked in the primal light.)
I don’t think it is exaggerating to say that writing poetry saved my life during this initially painful and ultimately empowering experience at this time in my life. Before financial considerations and the growth of our children required me to move on to other, more remunerative forms of psychotherapy employment, I saw and was involved with the healing magic of people turning on to their own creativity. It was a rush like no other.
Tragically, creativity is not always curative. Struggling people turn to it trying to resolve or release immense pain. Sometimes the experience of the shadow is overwhelming. Depression, suicide, and other consequences result when creativity breaks down and a creator has inadequate support in their life.
I hate to repeat it, but as a profession we poets and other writers are statistically at increased risk for emotional illness and suicide. Blaming creativity for this fact is like blaming firefighters for an out-of-control fire. The writer’s life is sometimes solitary, which increases the risk of finding no support when it is desperately needed. Solitude is sometimes a key part of the creative process. Isolation, however, is a killer. I had supportive people available to me when I was in the midnight of my soul. My creativity alone would not have saved me, if I had not had the support I did. Creativity plus connection made the difference.
Don’t fall for the belief that in order to do art one must suffer deeply, and alone. That is a sickly Romantic notion; pay it no heed. Some suffering is sometimes involved, but not the lethal kind. If you are miserable and death is looking better and better, reach out. Even if you are “only” depressed or suffering mood swings, or something else, reach out to friends, family, mental health professionals, healers, clergy, anybody. There may be some numbskulls who turn a deaf ear, but keep on reaching. There are caring people in the world. Stay on the planet with us. We need you.
National Suicide Hotline: 800 273 8255.
Text Crisis Hotline: text HOME to 741741, no charge.
~ Wry Welwood
10th of August 2021
Written in response to Christina Ward’s invitation to write about Mental Health and Poetry, for Mental Health Awareness Month.
Thank you to MDSHall.