Bipolar Disorder, Psychosis and Comedy

Source: Ryan McGuire/Gratisography

Have you heard the one about the bad Star Trek sequel? You know where Captain Zoloft and Colonel Paxil are fighting the Lithium Liberation Army and the Prozac Nation?

When something hurts, our first reaction is not usually laughter. Fair enough. When we're dealing with something as taboo as mental illness, it might even seem counter intuitive, if not counter productive. But studies show when we eventually can laugh about a challenge, humor gives us a sense of control, ownership and perspective over those situations we have little control. It gives voice to those things we might not normally be able to express. It offers us empowerment instead of powerlessness.

A study by Dr. Zsófia Demjén of University College London reveals that humor exchanged among cancer patients helped them cope with their illness and feel less isolated.

Unknowingly that’s what I’ve been doing with my stage plays over the past 14 years. No I don’t mean trying to help patients with cancer feel less isolated, but joking about a taboo that normally isn’t considered funny, let alone usually talked about it. I try to find the punch line in living with mental illness.

It’s true. Humor can be used to avoid dealing with painful situation but used wisely it can liberate ourselves from the past, from old ideas and present pain. Being able to find something funny means we have perspective and allows us to be bigger than the triggering event.

However not all types of humor are created equal. According to studies, including the research of Dr. Michael Miller of University of Maryland Medical Center, mirthful laughter gives the most benefits to people. Mirthful meaning: fun-filled, light-hearted, playful. It's rather obvious but insulting, aggressive, mean-spirited joking doesn't lead to the same health advantages. In fact, it's more likely to lead to the opposite, like a broken nose.

In the material I write and perform, it's not by making fun of people with mental illness (which by the way would include myself) rather it’s by loving the situation, caring for the details, that I find the comedy. Finding the funny in the circumstances is where mirthful humor emerges.

At first glance being in a psychotic episode doesn’t sound all that funny. And certainly parts of the psychoses I experienced weren’t. Ask my parents.

But when I tried to pick up the cute paramedic who caught me running down the street naked and told him that the only drug I was on was Love is sort of funny. You gotta admit that.

Often my audiences are made up of people who have mental illness themselves or love someone who does. And most, if not all, have been on the painful receiving end of stigma and prejudice solely because they or someone they care about has an illness, a mental illness.

When I stand up on stage describing my experiences of mental illness AND cracking jokes about it, something remarkable happens. A solidarity, a fortitude of sorts, freedom and community is built within the walls of the venue as we laugh together about something we are supposed to be ashamed about.

Through using elements of exaggeration, pun, metaphor, surprise and irony humor rises to the surface. Through shared humor (shared by everyone but the hecklers, that is) we recognize each other, feel less alone and surprisingly (or not) have more hope.

© Victoria Maxwell Read my previous blog 'Laugh. Jest for the Health of It.'

To view clips of my solo shows please visit my YouTube channel