Mentally Ill and Writing Brilliantly Nonetheless

I just stumbled across a fantastic blog about mental illness which I found fascinating and very well written (http://cherished79.wordpress.com/). This sparked a thought that I have not had in a very long time: just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I’m incompetent. I have not been much of the Wonder Boy these past six months, but before that, I was quite good at my job and, at the risk of sounding immodest, a great many other things as well. I had somehow allowed my recent crisis to edge me into that most hopeless of places “utter worthlessness.” I was absolutely convinced as recently as yesterday that I had nothing left to offer, that I was simply taking up space in the world, living purely out of habit. At one point I was even trying to decide if my kids would be better off with the money from my life insurance policy or with me for a father for the rest of their lives. Is this not obviously insane? For some, but not for everyone.

I bet many of my fellow patients have had similar thoughts. Those thoughts slip in remarkably easily for the depressed. It’s like that drink that really was “too much.” Not the last one which is rather obvious in its arrival as it is usually accompanied by … well, you get the picture. No, a dark thought is rather more like that drink somewhere between “just grand” and “whew, I’d better slow down.” Certainly much before “I’ll never drink again.” That critical drink, the tipping point, slips in without the slightest hesitation for consideration and judgment. And that’s precisely how it snares you. These thoughts of utter worthlessness are insidious–and deadly.

I have always read that depressed and bi-polar people were more creative and artistically accomplished than the general population. I don’t know if this is true or not. The truth of the matter, though, is irrelevant. I suspect we are at least as capable as the general population when we are stable, but even that is not relevant. Whether we are better or worse than the general population, we are good at something and there is value in that, even if it is only existential. Many philosophers have offered the pursuit of happiness as The meaning of life. Obviously, their conceptions of “happiness” varied substantially, but the point is still valid: it’s the pursuit, the action, the doing that is important. The outcome will be whatever it must be, but we are never worthless so long as we can move our limbs or our thoughts.

So, go forth and add more verbs to your diary; I can tell you from recent experience it is a hell of lot better than staying inside and staring at the walls all day. It costs a bit more, but, as they say, “you get what you pay for.”