Chloe’s tale: Creativity and medication

Once again, TTWS contributor Chloe writes about an aspect of her own struggle with meds. Do they make you more creative? Less so? After you read Chloe’s entry, write in and talk about your own related experiences.

Medication and the Creative Mind

One of the reasons I was exceedingly wary of meds when I was first prescribed them was my concern that they might somehow deprive me of my true self. If these new pills were designed to eliminate particular behaviors, couldn’t they also erase parts of my personality which I considered essentially ME?

What if I no longer thought the same way, or lost connection with the person I’d always believed myself to be? My ultimate fear was that meds would homogenize me and deny me my individuality. My doctors encouraged the opposite as more likely; the SSRIs for example were designed to eradicate the OCD and related behaviors preventing patients from maximizing their personal potential. It took a few years until I could entertain their expertise, only to discover that not only were they correct, but perhaps slightly understated in their assessment of the drugs’ capabilities.

For example, a few months after I began taking Zoloft I experienced a ridiculous surge of creativity in the graphic arts realm. I remember it occurring around Valentine’s Day because I’d spent an evening with one of my girlfriends making Valentines for our friends at work, and after that night I just couldn’t seem to stop cutting shapes out of colored paper. I found myself coming up with elaborate collages exhibiting skillfully matched colors and decent composition.

My switch over to Paxil didn’t affect my progress; I constantly came up with new ideas and new kinds of paper and other materials to use. I never tired of trimming images from magazines or searching for new clip art. Discarded paper trash, such as catalogues and brochures, or even old postcards or airplane tickets became my treasure.

Eventually I began to make a small profit on my work, both as framed pieces and greeting cards. I gave them as Christmas and birthday gifts, and during my return to college was hired to do varied artsy projects around campus. When I moved on to Sculpey clay, I made little miniatures of friends and family. The bartenders at my bar proudly placed their own personal action figures over the cash register where everyone could see them. I began to consider a career in Web Design, and did some research into the kinds of computer classes I’d have to take in order to learn the craft.

While there were extraneous circumstances which predicated my gradual detraction from art (one of them being my increasing focus on music), I also switched meds during this period of time from Paxil to Celexa. Celexa was quite new on the market at that point, and worked differently in the brain than the SSRI’s preceding it. The basic reason for my changing meds in the first place involved severe nocturnal leg cramps which I’d always harbored as a side-effect of SSRIs. My doctor had hoped perhaps with Celexa’s rather advanced pharmaceutical composition there would be a possibility that my leg cramps could lessen. Unfortunately, they didn’t. But as my withdrawal from Paxil was pretty hellish and going up on the Celexa was no picnic either, I chose to stay on the latter drug.

What remains mysterious to me is how the change in my artistic prolificacy coincides with the Paxil/Celexa switchover. Again, granted, I was spending more and more time playing music and being involved in various ensembles, but I’d practically forgotten about making cards and collages. My journal of that period of time is still very visual, and has maintained its scrapbook-like format to this day. But whenever I’d try to get back to cutting out shapes from paper, I was unable to maintain much interest. It was almost as if I’d gone through some kind of artsy phase instead of uncovering an innate talent.

I had been quite a good student when I was at school, but I think I spent a greater portion of my energy on my art than I did on my studies. I ended up dropping out to pursue my music full-time. When I returned to college a few years later, I was on Lexapro, a molecularly-simplified version of Celexa (the switchover was yet another attempt to avert the leg cramps). By this point my graphic art was wholly in my past, although many of my teachers over the three years I was there remarked with fascination on my tendency to ‘scrapbookify’ my class notes, and how I glued in various pictures and related information related to course material. But almost in the place of my artwork was an intensified ability to concentrate, to study, and to memorize. I seemed to finally understand how to take tests and write ‘A’ papers, which I did nearly without fail for the remainder of my schooling. And last but not least, I graduated, and at the top of my class no less, something I’d eternally admired of many peers but had never been able to personally attain.

Did my gradual switch to more developed SSRIs have any bearing on my improved mental competency? Did the Zoloft or Paxil really make me increasingly artistic? If I switched back to Paxil, what would happen? Would I lose my ability to think clearly and express myself with greater precision? Conversely, would I regain my artistic drive?

One psychiatrist invited to me to go back on Paxil if I wished, issuing me samples of the newer Paxil CR (controlled-release). While he didn’t guarantee that Paxil would indeed return me to my artistic impulses, he did assert that different SSRIs could potentially cause as varied effects on one single person. Of course I am curious as to whether switching back could put me back in touch with my inner artist. But I am also aware changing drugs isn’t necessarily the answer, even if I did achieve my desired results. The image of Ellen Burstyn’s tortured character in Requiem for a Dream comes to mind, as she sits obsessively contemplating a row of pills in assorted colors, struggling to identify each one with its corresponding function. I see myself doing something similar in this case: Paxil for artistic ability, Lexapro for left-brain concentration….Can the SSRI become the new steroid for psychological prowess?

As I approach my tenth year of taking medication, I wonder what the chances are that at some point I might be able to completely stop taking it. I often contemplate who I am without the pill I must take every morning. If I stopped taking meds, would I still be as functional and productive, as confident or as mentally healthy? Would I still master everyday skills which before meds were virtually impossible for me? I ultimately yearn for a wider access to my potential without pharmaceutical companionship. But in the meantime, I am grateful that meds do exist. Despite their rather random contribution towards my various talents, they have allowed me to tap those abilities in the first place, when for many years previous they remained hidden and silent.

liz | 11:35 AM | Uncategorized