In addition to dealing with the emotional toll of experiencing both mania and depression - and being aware of it post-diagnosis to apprehensively recognize the signs of what’s coming next (like curling up at home all day and crying nonstop) - Forney struggled with the philosophical debate of the “crazy artist.” It was hard to know what was really “her” and what was her illness, so taking medication at the risk of losing herself was scary. Then again, the other option wasn’t much better: people diagnosed with bipolar disorder were at a high risk of suicide and recurring hospitalizations not treating her condition could also lead to more extreme manic episodes that might be harder to control. And so, with a lot of uncertainty, Forney began her rollercoaster ride of different treatment plans and medication combinations.

Medications might help, but there was the chance that they’d dull her senses and take away her artistic abilities. Though it shed light on some of her behaviors, she was also terrified of what it meant in the long run. Suddenly, all those manic highs that she’d once thought made her eccentric and endearing and whimsically artistic took on a scary new meaning. These are just some of the questions Ellen Forney found herself grappling with right before her 30th birthday, when she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. What’s the difference between “crazy” and “creative”? Is there a difference? And if you take away the “crazy,” will you also be taking away the “creative”?

Marbles mania