This
Brainpickings blogpost
https://www.brainpickings.org/2014/07/21/creativity-and-mental-illness/
is on the question of whether creativity is "informed" by mental illness.
To save you from reading...here's the crux of the biscuit:
"Andreasen considers the unique psychoemotional constitution of the highly creative person, both its blessing and its curse:
Many personality characteristics of creative people … make them more vulnerable, including openness to new experiences, a tolerance for ambiguity, and an approach to life and the world that is relatively free of preconceptions. This flexibility permits them to perceive things in a fresh and novel way, which is an important basis for creativity. But it also means that their inner world is complex, ambiguous, and filled with shades of gray rather than black and white. It is a world filled with many questions and few easy answers. While less creative people can quickly respond to situations based on what they have been told by people in authority — parents, teachers, pastors, rabbis, or priests — the creative person lives in a more fluid and nebulous world. He or she may have to confront criticism or rejection for being too questioning, or too unconventional. Such traits can lead to feelings of depression or social alienation. A highly original person may seem odd or strange to others. Too much openness means living on the edge. Sometimes the person may drop over the edge… into depression, mania, or perhaps schizophrenia."
The interesting point to me, rather than mental illness, is the impact of criticism, rejection and being perceived as "too strange."
While our culture lauds individuality from one side of it's mouth, it is ever-ready to designate and, commonly, derogate those who're TOO strange. But what piques my interest is: what makes our egos so susceptible to ridicule? As we, the TOO different, designate, disdain and ridicule the "sheep" doing what they're told, we reel in self-abnegation if they look cross-eyed at us?
I've always been "different." In Montana the word has a strange tinge that inclined me to perceive it as a synonym for qweer. One day, at the checkout, the young lady asked why my left eye is colored. I explained that the coloration was scar tissue from an accident and that it had resulted in blindness. She then, with what might have felt to her, post-inquiry, as a faux pas, commented, "It's okay to be different."
This came across as a bit disingenuous. Montana is recognized as a holding pen for a heavily-weighted (adverb preCEEDs the noun) population of homogeneous survivalists, xenophobes and guys in gray t-shirts and khaki shorts. (Although I don't dress like everyone else, I don't think my attire is flamboyant. And yet, I attract attention.)
But I wish you could have seen the look on her face when I pointed out that SHE was different. That of the thousands of checkers who've looked at me whilst handing me my change, she was the first and one-and-only who'd asked about my eye. Quickly reassuring her "It's GOOD to be different," I nearly laughed aloud, watching, as she wrangled the cognitive dissonance of being "one of us."
These days, in Montana and when occasion arises, I remind them "It's only relevant if you want to date the person."
