Today, we tell the true story of a young man with bipolar disorder, Vince.
During his early life, Vince struggled to find his niche in the world and lamented he would never find anything of value to contribute.
Through most of his 20s, Vince had no career.
A failed relationship plunged him into depression and, although he dabbled in a few occupations, he was sad, lonely and was starting to self-medicate his mood with alcohol and cigarettes.
He had a crusty personality and a violent temper, often blacking out after threatening the lives of people he cared deeply about.
Vince’s brother Theo took care of him as best he could from a distance, sending him money.
At the age of 27, he decided to be an artist and attempt to create images to forge his relationship with the world around him.
He was untrained and had no mentor, but he set about it with zeal and energy.
Vince wrote daily to Theo and occasionally spoke of loneliness and ideas of suicide.
In one letter, he said: “I am unable to describe exactly what is the matter with me; now and then there are fits of anxiety, apparently without cause, or otherwise a feeling of emptiness and fatigue . . . and at times I have attacks of melancholy and of remorse.”
In another, Vince wrote: “Like everyone else, I need friendly or affectionate relationships and companionship. I am not made of stone or iron like a lamppost. And, like any man, I cannot go without these things and not feel a void, a lack of something.”
He called his loneliness “a particular torture.”
Vince became adept at painting, but never sold any of it.
Without Theo sending him money, he would have starved.
Yet, there was genius in his work and Theo could see it.
Vince’s mental illness developed into untreated schizophrenia and grew to the point where he attacked Paul, his good friend and fellow artist, and even committed self-mutilation.
As Vince’s condition deteriorated, his productivity did not and he managed to paint 70 masterpiece paintings in 70 days — and made several sketches as well.
He wrote to Theo: “I put my heart and my soul into my work and have lost my mind in the process.”
Finally, Vince could no longer handle his loneliness, his hallucinations and his poverty, and, at 37 years of age — only 10 years after beginning his painting career, he shot himself.
His beloved brother Theo was with him when he died two days later.
What became of Vince’s art?
Just months before his death, the genius of his work became evident to many others.
Today, Vince’s paintings hang in the most prestigious museums and galleries around the world because you see, he was not just Vince — he was Vincent Van Gogh.
The friend he had attacked was Paul Gauguin, who moved to Tahiti a year later.
The next time you see the painting Starry Night, remember what Vincent said: “For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”
Maybe you know someone with a mental illness and just maybe, they are lost in their own particular torture.
This season, remember them, and when you feel a little blue, remember Van Gogh’s words of self encouragement: “There is no blue without yellow and without orange.”
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