Author: Nicholas A. Duran, LMHC
As a queer Mexican American therapist, former professional dancer, and researcher, I’ve always been fascinated by the ways art and mental health intertwine. Before becoming a counselor, I earned an MFA in dance, where I learned that movement, music, and creativity can express things words sometimes cannot. Later, while studying counseling psychology, I conducted a qualitative research project that asked: what can the songs of artists living with bipolar disorder teach us about their lived experiences?
When Mariah Carey belts out “You’ve got me feeling emotions higher than the heavens above,”she’s doing more than writing a catchy hook. She’s giving us insight into what it feels like to live with bipolar disorder.
Instead of focusing only on biographies and diagnoses, I turned to the art itself—the lyrics that carry the weight of lived experience.
Creativity and Bipolar Disorder: A Complex Relationship
“Creativity becomes both an outlet and a survival strategy.”
For decades, researchers have noticed that people with bipolar disorder are overrepresented in creative professions. Writers, painters, musicians, dancers—rates are consistently higher than average.
Most studies have focused on historical figures like Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and Ernest Hemingway. But I wanted to look at living artists shaping today’s music—artists who share their diagnosis publicly and weave their experiences directly into their songs.
The Study: Listening Closely
I analyzed songs by four artists who have spoken openly about their mental health and bipolar diagnoses:
Two songs from each artist were selected, giving us an eight-song playlist. Using the DSM-5 as a guide, I looked for lyrics that reflected symptoms of mania and depression, as well as themes of substance use and empathy or connection.
What the Music Reveals
1. Mania in Lyrics
“Super graphic ultra modern girl / You can’t stop me, I’m invincible.” — Chappell Roan
Mania showed up most often in the songs, expressed through soaring confidence, late-night energy, and euphoric highs. Carey captures the rapture of elevated mood in “Emotions”: “I feel good, I feel nice, I’ve never felt so satisfied / I’m in love, I’m alive, intoxicated, flying high.”
Roan, in “Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl,” channels the swagger of manic excess, while Halsey’s “3am” reveals the restless, sleepless urgency: “’Cause it’s 3am / And I’m calling everybody that I know.” Gomez offers a subtler version of mania’s uplift in “Rare”: “I don’t have it all, I’m not claiming to / But I know that I’m special.”
Taken together, these lyrics create a mosaic of mania: intoxicating highs, feelings of invincibility, bursts of connection, and moments of clarity—all powerful, but edged with risk.
2. Depression in Lyrics
“Know that my identity’s always gettin’ the best of me / I’m the worst of my enemies.” — Halsey
“Rose-colored glasses all distorted.” — Selena Gomez
Depression surfaced in lyrics as self-doubt, distorted perception, and emotional exhaustion. Halsey gives voice to the inner battle of identity in “Clementine,” while Gomez, in “Lose You to Love Me,” captures how heartbreak and depression can twist perception until even joy feels skewed. Carey leans into despair’s shadow in her ballads, describing the heaviness of loss and longing.
Roan, in “Casual,” reflects the weariness of repeated rejection: “I don’t wanna try if you don’t wanna stay / I’m tired of begging for somebody’s grace.”
Together, these lyrics show depression as both inward and outward—sometimes an internal battle with identity, sometimes a distortion of reality, and sometimes the sheer fatigue of surviving.
3. Substance Use
“I’m seeing colors when I close my eyes / Is it me or the chemicals inside?” — Chappell Roan
Substance use surfaced repeatedly as both metaphor and lived reality, often bound up with mania’s volatility. Halsey’s “3am” and “Clementine” depict blackout drinking and reckless abandon, the kind of choices that mirror mania’s impulsivity. Roan, in “Kaleidoscope,” blurs the boundary between chemical influence and emotional overwhelm, casting substance use as both escape and distortion.
Across these songs, substances appear as both escape and mirror—at times numbing pain, at others amplifying risk, but always echoing the instability of bipolar states.
4. Empathy and Connectedness
“We’re all in this together, you’re my only hope.” — Mariah Carey
Even amid chaos, the longing for connection remains a central thread. Carey’s “Save the Day”lifts this theme to a collective scale, calling for unity and shared responsibility. Roan, in “Casual,” pleads for something deeper than surface-level intimacy: “I don’t want it casual, I want it all.” Halsey’s “I don’t need anyone… I just need everyone and then some” captures the paradox of craving independence and closeness at once—a tension familiar to many navigating bipolar swings.
Together, these voices remind us that empathy and connection are not luxuries but lifelines. In their music, connection becomes both the salve for suffering and the anchor that keeps them tethered when emotions run to extremes.
Why This Matters
“These songs aren’t case studies—they’re emotional landscapes set to melody.”
Looking at the art itself—not just the artist’s biography—offers something immediate and raw. These songs aren’t clinical case studies; they’re emotional landscapes set to melody. They show us how symptoms feel from the inside, and how creativity becomes both an outlet and a survival strategy.
This perspective also matters for reducing stigma. Research shows that highlighting strengths—like resilience, empathy, and creativity—shifts public perception. Instead of seeing bipolar disorder only as disorder and dysfunction, we also see possibility, artistry, and humanity.
In therapy, acknowledging creative expression can be profoundly healing. Many clients report that creativity fosters identity, reduces stigma, and offers a lifeline during moments of despair.
Where We Go From Here
This project was a starting point. Future research could dive deeper into rhythm, beat, and performance—not just lyrics. It could look across art forms, from dance to theater to visual art. And it could include interviews with artists to explore how they themselves see creativity shaping their experience of bipolar disorder.
Art is more than expression—it’s data on lived experience, a tool for healing, and a bridge for empathy.
As Carey, Halsey, Roan, and Gomez remind us: the highs and lows of bipolar disorder are deeply human. And through their music, they invite us not just to listen—but to feel.
Takeaway: Songs by artists with bipolar disorder don’t just entertain us—they educate us. They break down stigma, highlight strengths, and help us understand what it means to live at emotional extremes.
