About

Art and Madness

One of the most enduring stereotypes of an artist is one who is mad: Vincent Van Gogh's famous struggles with what could be mania, Jackson Pollock's addiction and depression, and Paul Gauguin's difficult last few years are all just famous examples. There are countless more; in fact, it is more difficult to find a body of work by an artist not informed by intense periods of emotional distress than otherwise. I myself don't know a single artist who does not either deal with anxiety or depression chronically or periodically, though this this partially self-selection. Artists are also much more willing to discuss their mental health and there is a strong argument that we may "feel" or reflect on our emotions more than the average person. I have always felt like I see and feel the world in more detail than others, and I'm sure most artists feel the same. At the same time, this same sensitivity could render one less resilient in the face of extreme emotion, which I believe may be the cause of the mental struggles of artists. 

I also wonder if, because of this, I suffered so much more when I became severely mentally ill.

My Breakdown

In 2021, I developed Obsessive Compulsive Disorder of a severe form months after going off an antidepressant, which was prescribed for an unrelated condition (was the timing a coincidence? Probably not!). Within a year I was hospitalized numerous times and undergoing many forms of therapy, though with not much success. My entire life had transformed into a debilitating nightmare that would put a Goya Black Painting to shame; every single day was filled with agonizing anxiety and depression. Until that point, I had never had any mental illness (that I could perceive), and it would take me an additional four years of excruciating suffering to finally receive my diagnosis. OCD is often confused with other anxiety and depressive disorders, especially for someone like me, whose presentation of OCD was not obsessing over symmetry or germs, but constant rumination in my mind. 

During this period I definitely found artmaking difficult, and for good reason. I felt as if my life might be essentially over; I could not explain why I lived in such an anxious state day after day, and spent most of my time ruminating over possible explanations rather than expressing myself at my easel. Thankfully in 2025, a new therapist instantly diagnosed me and everything that occurred for four years finally made sense. After starting therapy for the condition, I was surprised how effective it was despite my difficult health history, and feel very optimistic about the future. In fact, the whiplash from being so severely anxious to now feeling so well is almost as dizzying as the descent into madness itself. 

The truth just so happened to be that I have always had OCD, I just never classified my behavior as such. I didn't know that the mental games I played to get a good grade in school was not just a quirk; that my anxious thoughts that popped up in social situations were not just typical anxiety; that my lingering sense that something was holding me back, though I was not sure what, indeed was not normal. I since have asked my family about strange behavior from other family members and now see the genetic link. 

My Rebirth

Many people believe that a mental breakdown, especially one that results in a diagnosis, is an omen. Things can never go back to being as they were; this person is forever burdened with an illness. However, anyone familiar with mental health knows that these conditions are often present since the person was a child and not simply random. The breakdown changes nothing, except making that person aware that their disorder can no longer be ignored, and that maybe they are not the "normal" person they always thought they were. The breakdown often gets the most self-hatred, blame, stigma, and despair, but the breakdown is blameless; it is a communication that there is something that needs to be changed. 

Every breakdown is followed by a restructuring or rebirth, which is often not discussed. 

The breakdown gets most of the attention due to its sloppy and indecent nature, but nobody ever talks about what happens aftewards, except to expect that people somehow just "get better" through time. However, I believe that how we restructure ourselves after a traumatic event, tragedy, or illness is up to us. I found that the most important aspect of my therapy was to trust that I was not doomed to live in a chronically ill state. My own condition made it seem as if I was doomed, hopeless, and going to be complaining about agonizing OCD for the rest of my life. I learned to recognize that I didn't have to listen to this adumbration because there was no evidence it was real. 

Since starting therapy, my world has opened up in ways I never could have imagined. I do not feel like the same person, but somehow more myself, intrinsically more pure. I now feel far more confident because I no longer have to listen to doubtful insecurities. I also feel far more flexibility in the options I have in life because I am not boxed in by logic that confines me to unnecessary limitations. These changes are subtle but significant; it's not as if I've grown wings or now am suddenly joyous every second of the day. What has really happened is that I can finally be me. 

As it turned out, I needed my disorder to become severe enough for me to notice it; otherwise, I would have gone my whole life with unaddressed symptoms, feeling held back and insecure but not really being able to explain why, the way I had felt for much of my adult life. I would have just continued reasoning that it was my personality. I call this death by a thousand cuts: the slow bleed of an undiagnosed, untreated disorder that many people unfortunately suffer their whole lives. Who knows? Maybe I actually got the better deal. 

My Art

The work featured here I found relevant to the themes in this post. Some of them, particularly Vipassana, Milarepa's Demons, and Śūnyatā are works that explore my rebirth. Buddhist philosophy has become a source of inspiration, especially as it is a religion based on the alleviation of suffering. I am in a period of intense experimentation and am pleased to see how my art is evolving. 

For a long time, artmaking felt like a competition where my sole goal was to be the best. Now I feel far more curious and interested in the process of art, rather than its outcome, because the pressure of being perfect is alleviated. Many artists do not consider how making art requires a healthy mindset and understanding healthy coping skills with jealousy, insecurity, and anxiety about making art. The pressures that it creates can affect not only the professional artist but the hobbyist; not only those with a diagnosis but those without. Though my healing journey is not over, I certainly have a path forward. 

Conclusion

I hope the reader can understand a few essential points from this post:

• There is an established link between mental illness and the artistic mind, and artists should see their gift of hyper-sensitivity as a gift that needs to be understood and monitored

• OCD can appear as anxiety but requires specialized treatment, and more awareness of this is needed

• Serious mental breakdowns can actually result in a growth mindset and are often opportunities to understand oneself and improve one's lifestyle

Below is a resource on OCD that I highly recommend:

Inference-based Cognitive-Behavorial Therapy – The Official site of the New Treatment for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and Related Conditions 

Take care and Happy Holidays!

Tiffany