Creativity + Mental Health
Beethoven was prone to energetic highs and suicidal lows. Georgia O’Keeffe was admitted to Doctors Hospital in New York City after suffering from anxiety and depression. David Foster Wallace suffered from depression that was so deep he took his own life and Carrie Fisher was first diagnosed with bipolar in her mid twenties.
These are only a few of many well-known artists who have suffered from mental illness. There is no denying the connection between creativity and mental illness. Depression, schizophrenia, bipolar, mania, anxiety, etc. have played a role in some of the most famous works throughout history that will never be duplicated. It’s no wonder that creatives are willing to sacrifice sanity to show the world one of a kind art that bares their soul and encompasses their entire being.
I will never be on the level of Van Gogh or Sylvia Plath, but I do view myself as creative. I’ve never felt more alive – physically and mentally – than when I was acting on stage. Much of my life has been spent wanting to escape the reality around me; I’ve lived many lives through characters in plays.
One of the first acting teachers I had in college preached “acting is the art of being.” It made sense to me then and makes sense to me now. Every single individual, no matter how small or big their actions, is a living, breathing entity. Therefore, every single character in a play is waiting to be brought to life just as a person is brought to life though birth. The playwright is the parent of all characters and the director molds and helps raise that character.
When I acted, my goal was to embody a character physically and mentally outside of myself. Changing the length of my hair, both facial and on my head, was a huge part of accomplishing this. I’ve committed to shoulder length hair, greasy hair that was left unwashed for weeks, and hair buzzed to my scalp. Full-fledged beards, handle-bar mustaches, and chops have adorned my face for different parts.
As much fun as I have had with facial hair or hair styles, I took things too far for one role. In my mid-twenties, I was cast in a show where I played an individual in prison who was taken advantage of. This character was abused physically and mentally every way possible. Knowing no boundaries and committing fully to being this character, I went beyond what I physically and mentally should have. To truly show how my character was taken advantage of in prison, I lost so much weight that I brought myself down to 115 lbs. For two months – 1 month of rehearsal and 1 month of performances – I ate chicken broth and canned tuna fish every day. Further committing to the part, I gave myself bruises and scratches, which lasted long after the show ended. Mentally, during this span, I was irritable, lethargic, and many nights I found myself waking up screaming with cold sweats; nightmares had never felt more real.
As much as I will admit I should not have committed myself the way I did, I will also admit that looking back now, I still wouldn’t do anything different. For better or worse, I’m proud of how I have brought characters to life. I’m proud of the way I committed myself to giving a voice to words on a page and make characters become full fledged human beings. While I can no longer commit the way I used to, there are so many creatives out there who do. Despite anyone’s judgements and concerns regarding the creatives process, it is worth acknowledging the amazing and beautiful art they have contributed to the world.
