Today is World Bipolar Day; Why Do We Care so Much About Vincent van Gogh?
Today is March 30th, the birthday of the undisputedly revered and gifted artist Vincent van Gogh, who endured a turbulent, unhappy, erratic existence and subsequently was posthumously diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Van Gogh is often regarded as the Patron Saint of Bipolar Disorder so it should come as no surprise that today is World Bipolar Day. Whooopeeee.
Background for those who are unfamiliar with van Gogh:
By all accounts van Gogh had a relatively shitty life. His childhood was less than stellar and he felt misplaced and isolated a good chunk of the time. As an adult he struggled finding a career that would stick; first he apprenticed as an art dealer and then for a period he embraced his growing religious fervor and dedicated his life to becoming a man of God. He became an Evangelical preacher with bouts of depression who was ultimately booted from the church and then he shifted his attention and energy towards agnosticism, socialist ideology, and art. When it came to social skills he made quite the reputation as an entitled jerk that pulled out his stalker moves when he was “friend zoned.” Sarcastic sorry, van Bro-gh. Anyway, according to Blumer (2002), as van Gogh’s artistic career developed he began experiencing episodic bursts of terror, physical pain, and lapses of consciousness. Not to mention he really liked to pound the absinthe and down the frequent cognac or two. As an adult, van Gogh grew increasingly volatile, untidy, quarrelsome, and disagreeable but his brother Theo stood by his side, supported his art endeavors, and bailed him out all of the fucking time. At one point Theo wrote to their younger sister that van Gogh was his own worst enemy and despite being a gifted artist he was a fitful, disgruntled man. He sounds like a party.
In 1888 van Gogh ventured to Arles, France in order to schedule some regular, highly productive crafternoons. But he began experiencing incredibly intense mood shifts; he was feverishly creative, then he was listless and exhausted, and he alternated between dysphoria and euphoria. In letters to his brother Theo, van Gogh also referenced having fits of rage, lack of sexual arousal, and being plagued with other physical ailments. Things were definitely sucking. The next story is one we are all familiar with because people really like to tell it: feeling lonesome, van Gogh chatted up his art buddy Gauguin and convinced him to come to Arles, but things went south relatively quickly. The tension between the two escalated for various reasons (incompatible personalities, money issues, mental illness, drinking, etc.) and Gauguin decided to leave van Gogh in Arles. But before he had a chance to skip town, van Gogh had a psychotic episode in which he reportedly acted violently towards Gauguin and then cut off part of his own ear. He then proceeded to deliver said ear, or at least a generous piece of it, to his favorite sex worker Rachel (awww, my name is Rachel, isn’t that lovely). Again, all of this is based on information we can’t truly verify so we might not be getting our story quite right. Just keep that in mind. This experience marked the beginning of van Gogh’s psychotic episodes, which led to a series of hospitalizations. Van Gogh was diagnosed with epilepsy at the time of his treatment and he kept painting away while he was in the hospital and during periods when he was released. His health waxed and waned, his drinking continued, and his brother Theo started moving on with his own life, which caused van Gogh quite a bit of emotional duress. Theo got married and had a kid, and van Gogh was consumed with feelings of abandonment, loneliness, and felt like a burden. At this point in time van Gogh had been discharged from the hospital and was reportedly “cured” but only 10 weeks later he died by suicide.
Wait — did van Gogh actually have bipolar disorder? Blumer (2002) sides with doctors and researchers who believe that van Gogh actually had epilepsy and a plethora of other contributing variables, like excessive drinking, brain lesions, environmental concerns, sexually transmitted diseases (possibly cue Rachel), etc. that resulted in the sad story that was his life. However other people clearly disagree, as evidenced by the bipolar community who is quick to claim van Gogh as our own. My issue here is not actually whether or not epilepsy or bipolar disorder was the cause of van Gogh’s self-destructive behavior, his unhealthy decisions, his powerful art, or his abysmal life, because we’ll never really know, but rather I want to confront the bipolar community as to why the ill and dysfunctional van Gogh is revered as our bipolar poster child. He seems like a bad choice.
I have bipolar disorder and I ask my similarly afflicted mentally ill sisters, brothers, and non-gendered siblings, why do we love van Gogh so much? In order to get a sense of the answer I conducted some VERY informal research: I Googled, “why do people with bipolar love Vincent van Gogh.” These are my crudely summarized results:
1) People identify with his interpersonal struggles: Van Gogh was lonely, at times bullied, excluded, and had a hard time maintaining relationships.
2) People identify with his failures: Van Gogh had a hard time holding down a job, he drank a lot, his art wasn’t all that popular when he was alive, he relied entirely on Theo for cash, and his health was crap.
3) People want to identify with his “success:” We attribute van Gogh’s creative genius to his illness. His cyclical suffering was directly responsible for his brilliant masterpieces. Not despite of, but because of his illness he is an acclaimed great. He was unhappy as hell but he was a prolific creator. Way to Gogh! Making absinthe out of lemons!
Vincent van Gogh was misunderstood and under appreciated. Many people living with bipolar disorder can relate to these feelings of isolation, worthlessness, and shame because stigma is a very real part of our lives. Van Gogh was an outcast who was penniless and friendless but he had an amazing gift. In some ways this seems like an inherently faulty “overcoming narrative” to me: His artistic gift was lost on most people due to the grip of his vicious, perhaps unidentified, illness. But van Gogh didn’t live and die in vein because we still celebrate him and, it feels like, the illness that “inspired” his genius.
And I argue that that is a toxic line of thinking. For starters, I don’t think van Gogh’s life was actually all that inspiring. His art is magnificent, but he seemed like kind of an asshole. He was irritable, aggressive, a stalker, inconsiderate, manipulative, etc. Van Gogh is not a beacon of hope. In fact, I feel like his only redeeming quality was his artwork — NOT his illness! It is counter intuitive to celebrate the man’s illness, because even if it led to his creations, it also killed him. The reason we have a day like today, World Bipolar Day, is to de-stigmatize mental illness so people seek treatment and not succumb to such a vitriolic disease. I have bipolar 1 disorder and my illness does its best to ruin my life. During my hypomania, mania, psychosis, and depression I don’t oil paint up a storm, I actually don’t do anything that makes the illness seemingly “worth it.” Seriously, when I’m psychotic all I do is capsize under the weight of my paranoia, cry uncontrollably, have delusions and obsessions about my teeth, and talk about my guardian angel, Princess Diana. It’s a mess, not glamorous.
I get it, bipolar disorder is an illness that severely compromises one’s ability to be healthy, happy, and safe. But owning the illness is the only way to learn how to live life on your own terms. Yes, living with a mental illness is challenging, and I am not trying to trivialize that struggle. It is even more challenging when you live like van Gogh. But some of us (it is VERY important to note that access to resources and systems is far from equal/equitable for all individuals; people of color living in poverty are systemically silenced, disempowered, marginalized, and tokenized in conversations on mental illness — which I actually write about in my next post) are fortunate enough to have access to medication and health care, supportive networks, opportunities, and thus the chance to lead fulfilling lives. Our fight against stigma is best won through genuine accomplishments, challenging low expectations, and trying to make the mental health conversation more inclusive and diverse.
I appreciate the artwork of van Gogh and I understand that he struggled, but I refuse to accept him as the emblem of my illness. He was a man who suffered the majority of his existence and he took his own life due to his pain; the only thing that survived was his art. I don’t accept that he represents bipolar disorder in the slightest. At least he does not represent what bipolar disorder has to be like today. My hope is not placed in the allegory of a man who was an aloof, brilliant, tortured soul, because it is just not healthy to romanticize his illness. I actively anchor my hope in my own accomplishments, the achievements of my friends who also struggle with mental illness, the love of my friends and family, and the sincere belief that I can make my life better. Something that is way easier to believe and practice when I am not infatuated with the warped appeal of existing as an aloof, brilliant, tortured soul who’s definitely doomed. I don’t think Vincent van Gogh should be the icon of bipolar disorder. No one person should serve this purpose because this illness is just as unique as the people it impacts, as the independent lives they lead, and as the gifts they each bring to the world when they are healthy. That’s true every day, not just on World Bipolar Day.
Today is March 30th World Bipolar Day. This day is truly about honoring the narratives of people who live with bipolar disorder, confronting stigma, shifting awareness to acceptance (something I first saw expressed by @GreggBeratan), and instilling the hope that if you have bipolar disorder you can live better and longer than Vincent van Gogh.
Edit: Just in case any World Bipolar Day founders or big wigs at the International Bipolar Foundation stumble upon this post I wanted to provide a list of other potential bipolar heroes who I would much rather have represent my illness: actress and advocate Carrie Fisher (RIP), comedian Maria Bamford, singer Demi Lovato, musician Kid Cudi, actor Robin Williams (RIP), and revered doctor Kay Redfield Jamison. Let’s replace the romanticized narrative of a white, whiny, melancholic, mentally ill, male artist and instead focus on individuals who share their authentic narratives and show that you don’t need to be broken to be brilliant. That’s my bipolar story.
Reference
Blumer, D. (2002). The illness of Vincent van Gogh. The American Journal of Psychiatry, 159 (4), 519–526.
