I can’t claim to be a Bruce Springsteen fan from the very beginning (namely, Greetings from Asbury Park, NJ), but it’s a fact that when his breakthrough album, Born to Run, came out in 1975 it was one of the first records I ever bought for myself.
Springsteen was 25 at the time, a working-class guy from New Jersey singing about teenagers in souped-up cars trying to escape the mean streets. I was a demure 14-year-old, growing up in a gracious neighborhood in the bosom of a professional family. But somehow his songs spoke to me—or maybe spoke for me, voicing the eternal adolescent yearning to bust loose.
Along with his marathon concerts—at 63, The Boss still fills stadiums around the world—that ability to give voice to the human condition has always been Springsteen’s particular talent.
Now he’s speaking for a darker side of the human psyche: depression. When a recent New Yorker profile delved into Springsteen’s emotional demons and revealed that he’s been in therapy for 30 years, the news made headlines across the country.
What the stories didn’t cover, though, was what therapy has done for Springsteen: helped him work through crippling issues about his abusive father and create a stable marriage with Patti Scialfa, a singer in his E Street Band.
Springsteen has never hidden his troubled relationship with his father. In the profile, the writer recalls hearing Springsteen tell a story at a concert in 1976 about getting into screaming fights with his father, who would come home drunk from his job as a jail guard and make his son sit with him in the dark.
Doug Springsteen could erupt into rage and violence, often with Bruce as a target, making the household a place “in which threats were shouted, telephones were ripped off the wall, and the police were summoned,” he writes. But he could also sink into immobilizing depressions, and it’s possible that he had bipolar disorder.
Bruce Springsteen now lives with his own family on a 180-acre farm in affluent Colts Neck, New Jersey, 10 miles and a world away from where he grew up. That was in a two-family house in a rundown neighborhood of Freehold. His mother, Adele, worked as a legal secretary and held the family together. His father shifted from job to job, never achieving the prosperity he felt he deserved. Springsteen was marked as deeply by his father’s disappointment as he was by the man’s behavior.
According to the New Yorker profile, Springsteen is still gripped by the pain of his early years. “My parents’ struggles, it’s the subject of my life,” he tells Remnick. “It’s the thing that eats at me and always will.… Those wounds stay with you, and you turn them into a language and a purpose.”
Growing up in an abusive home left Springsteen unable to sustain close relationships. In some ways, he learned to trust nothing but his music. He got serious about playing guitar at age 15, joined a band as lead singer while still in his teens, then headed for the music scene in nearby Asbury Park. He had the ambition, discipline (to the point of perfectionism) and talent to break free from Freehold, if not from its corrosive legacy.
You can hear it all in the songs on Born to Run, the album that put Springsteen on the best-seller charts, on the covers of Time and Newsweek—and on a trajectory that would find him driving aimlessly across the country, questioning his life and self-worth. Or driving past his old house at night, “sometimes three or four times a week,” Remnick reports. Springsteen started seeing a psychotherapist in 1982, who told him he was trying to go back and somehow make things right.
Music was another kind of therapy for Springsteen, on the page and the stage. He talks to Remnick about how his punishing performances, often lasting three hours or more, were a way to escape “pure fear and self-loathing and self-hatred. You are free of yourself for those hours; all the voices in your head are gone. Just gone. There’s no room for them.”
But Springsteen also passionately believes that the live shows are his way to spread a little hope, create a transcendent experience for the crowd, and strike out against “the futility and the existential loneliness” of existence. In the end, what fans like me take away from Springsteen’s music is not only the stark and sad portrayals, but also a sense of human warmth and connection.
Man to man
M.V., Carson City, NV
Knowing that the “The Boss” has suffered from depression relieves my stigma and the stigma of many men from his generation. I just hope men who have been on the fence about treatment will seek it.
Strong enough to ask for help
L.M., Colts Neck, NJ
I am a 46-year-old mom of four kids who have all been battling depression on different levels. I have been a faithful fan of Bruce Springsteen since I was a teenager after listening to my older sisters’ albums. I’ve seen him in concert over 150 times and have found his music to be therapeutic in all aspects of my life. When I go to a Springsteen show, I’m never disappointed. It is a rock ’n’ roll baptism with a congregation of fellow believers. For me and a lot of his fans, he provides a spiritual rising that is truly uplifting and inspirational. He’s connecting to us, yet with all of the praise and adoration, he still struggles with self-worth and depression.
His newest album, Wrecking Ball, has a song entitled “This Depression.” When I first heard it, I cried. “Baby I’ve been down, but never this down/ I’ve been lost, but never this lost … This is my confession, I need your heart/ in this depression, I need your heart.” There is desperation, yet he knows what he needs and he confesses: “I can’t do this by myself. Please help me through this.”
About 20 years ago he wrote a song called “Happy.” “Some need gold and some need diamond rings, or a drug to take away the pain that living brings … But at night I feel the darkness near, And I awake, I find you near, yeah, I’m happy with you in my arms, happy with you in my heart.” He has referred to Patti Scialfa, his wife and fellow band member, as his rock. I don’t think he can make it any clearer that she is who he’s singing about here. She admits herself understanding depression from her own experience.
There is no doubt that the illness of depression and addiction are family diseases, not just in the hereditary sense but in how the disease affects everyone else in the family. There’s a ripple effect. The greatest gift that Bruce is giving from the “confession” and treatment of his depression is awareness. The more public figures who come forward with their own experiences and knowledge, the more those left in the dark can see light. Thank you, Bruce, for having the courage, strength and compassion to share your experience and shed a light in this “land of hope and dreams.”
No shame in treatment
K.N., Castro Valley, CA
Springsteen’s music has provided the ambient music of my life. He was emerging as a superstar when I was in college and I can still be floored by the beauty and masterful lyrics of songs like “Thunder Road” and “The River.” Bruce rocks! I’m thrilled that Springsteen has admitted he’s been treated for depression for 30 years. So many people erroneously think that depression is a “women’s disease” that it really helps the cause when high-profile men admit to having the condition. The more who admit it, the less of a stigma it will be, and the closer we get to a public understanding of depression and other mental illnesses. More importantly, it’s more likely that depressed individuals will seek treatment if they realize there’s no shame in it.
Inspiration to live on
C.K., Victoria, BC
Bruce’s sharing that he has been affected by the debilitating illness of depression is really outstanding. So many suffer in silence due to fear of stigma. I saw The Boss on stage in Montreal, circa 1980. I have always wondered how this guy performs so well for so long on stage. He is a great entertainer and known for his incredible energy to perform long shows. How he has managed to do this with depression is absolutely mind-boggling! I had no idea of his struggles, and this inspires me to believe we can survive and live on.
Childhood afflictions
J.O., Poughkeepsie, NY
When Bruce Springsteen released Nebraska in 1982, it came as a real shock. This was a collection of demos that was supposed to be part of a rock album he was planning to do with The E Street Band. However, the demos conveyed the sense of terror, desperation and hopelessness much better than if played with a band. The album contained songs about serial killers, about the unemployed, about a failed attempt at getting back with your father. Remember, this was back in 1982, a time when America was going through one of its worst economic periods. It was also when Springsteen himself was going through a personal depression. I have to say hearing that album made me realize that no one could write music this scarifying without having a few demons in them. Demons that were certainly brought on by an abusive father. Almost anyone who knows about these things will tell you that a child who goes through a tough time like that will carry those afflictions for the rest of their life. He could have destroyed himself. Two years later, Springsteen produced his truly big album, Born in the USA, and all the pent-up hostility and frustration he felt about a lot of things turned into magnificent, exhausting four-hour concerts that many consider to be the greatest rock shows ever.
Speaking to our struggles
L.M., McKeesport, PA
Bruce is the eloquent voice of my generation. A lifetime of music that speaks to the struggles we all live. We know that he feels deeply, deeply. His concerts are an experience in recovery—over three hours of exciting therapy. That we can now add his name to the list of creative genius artists with depression makes no difference to those of us who feel along with him. He has spent years sharing his depression with us, hasn’t he?
The friend who gets it
S.W., Tucson, AZ
Bruce Springsteen has been my absolute favorite for 26 of my 38 years, and has had a profound effect on me. Depression causes me to need to hide, to protect my rawness so that it doesn’t overwhelm me. In those times, Bruce Springsteen’s music gives me a safe place. It’s like that one friend who gets it. It’s the thing that gives me comfort, familiarity, and lets me breathe it in so I know I’m not alone, that what I have is just part of the human experience. I reach down to the Live/1975-85 box set I keep in my car at all times, and pull out any of the discs. When the music starts, as it fills my beater car, I feel like I was there too, like I was at that river, or on that bike. I feel connected to it in times when I’m disconnected from everything else. It brings me back.
Way to stick with it
L.S., Belington, WV
I am truly amazed at Bruce Springsteen’s accomplishments and happy to know of his association with a therapist for the past 30 years. It is such a blessing for him to be able to share his talent and a tribute to his addressing the need for treating his condition. Way to go, Boss! And, thanks to your [psychiatric] professional for being there and hanging in with you, to make this possible.
My fondest memory of all the performances I’ve seen him do is “We Are The World.” Sweat pouring off him and I don’t know how many takes, and he’s asking, “Should I do this again?” That kind of dedication comes from a man willing to go the distance. And remember, this was a free performance! Thanks for sharing your life with your fans, Bruce. I’m proud to be one of them.
Message of hope
G.R., Suffolk, VA
Growing up on Bruce’s music, I believe a lot of his songs provide a strong message of hope, songs I have drawn inspiration from. I also believe he is more of a man for coming out and helping the rest of us deal with our problems.
Below the surface
G.D., Avenel, NJ
On the surface, most people will see a successful rock star. Those people would be wrong. Money doesn’t buy happiness (sure does help, though). I have followed Bruce as a loyal fan starting in the early 1980s. His childhood was tough with the way he was treated at home and losing friends in the Vietnam War. Touring around the country sounds like an awesome fantasy, but it is hard work, demanding and lonely. The recent death of [E Street Band saxophone player] Clarence Clemons, I am sure rocked his world and his emotional health. I am so happy Bruce admits he has depression and has been getting it treated. That is what he needs.
Making a connection
G.K., Poulsbo, WA
Bruce Springsteen has been a favorite of mine for over 30 years. When I was in high school, I suffered from depression (as I still do) and his music got me through a lot of tough times. Nothing but his music would do when I was in a very black place. I’m not at all surprised to learn he suffers from depression. The words and sadness in much of his music made me feel he knew what I was going through, and I found so much comfort in his music. Bruce Springsteen writes with such emotion, and his lyrics reflect a deep mind not unfamiliar with suffering.
For the New Yorker profile of Bruce Springsteen, the journalist spoke with Springsteen’s wife of 21 years, Patti Scialfa, about how Springsteen overcame the deep sense of isolation he’d carried within himself for decades. Her answer: “Obviously, therapy…. He was able to look at himself and battle it out.”
It helped that Scialfa had gone through clinical depression herself and could appreciate what her husband was feeling. She also recognizes that making music was Springsteen’s refuge, the place where he could make his broken self whole, and that it wasn’t easy to put his trust in something or someone else. “Your ability to create something becomes your medicine,” is how she puts it.
But when he decided he wanted a real relationship and a family, she explains to Remnick, “he worked really, really, really hard at it—as hard as he works at his music.” The couple now has three college-age children, raised in New Jersey not far from their father’s hometown.
Happy Tracks, 1998
Some need gold and some need diamond rings
Or a drug to take away the pain that living brings
A promise of a better world to come
When whatever here is done
I don’t need that sky of blue babe
All I know’s since I found you, I’m
Happy when I’m in your arms …
In a world of doubt and fear
I wake at night and reach to find you near
Lost in a dream, you caught me as I fell, now
I want more than just a dream to tell
My Father’s House Nebraska, 1982
I awoke and I imagined the hard things that pulled us apart
Will never again, sir, tear us from each other’s hearts
I got dressed, and to that house I did ride
From out on the road, I could see its windows shining in light …
My father’s house shines hard and bright
It stands like a beacon calling me in the night
Calling and calling, so cold and alone
Shining ‘cross this dark highway where our sins lie unatoned
Land of Hopes and Dreams Live in New York City, 2001
Grab your ticket and your suitcase, thunder’s rolling down this track
Well you don’t know where you’re going now, but you know you won’t be back
Well, darling, if you’re weary, lay your head upon my chest
Yeah, we’ll take what we can carry, and we’ll leave the rest …
Yeah, leave behind your sorrows, let this day be the last
Well, tomorrow there’ll be sunshine and all this darkness past
Well, Big Wheels roll through fields where sunlight streams
Meet me in a land of hope and dreams
Printed as “Bruce Almighty: Bruce Springsteen”, Summer 2012
I realize it is probably a long shot, but if Bruce were available to speak at NAMI PBC’s annual luncheon it would be truly amazing.
There is so much to be done; Palm Beach County seems like a black hole sometimes. This recent shooting has raised awareness (to a degree) of the need for mental health services in Florida. Everyone seems to have an opinion on what is needed, but I believe that the answer/need is so much greater than most folks can even imagine. Every single level of care needs extensive work.The truth is, there is not a system of care in Florida, (or most of the United States) only uncoordinated pockets of care. We are hoping that some change is coming down the road. Getting Florida out of 49th or 50th in mental health care in the country will be a massive challenge. And each county in Florida operates relatively independently and services vary drastically from one county to another.
Having Bruce Springsteen speak at our Annual Luncheon would open so many more eyes to the stigma of mental health. One out of 4 people have a mental health condition sometime in their lives. So many people have depression & anxiety and are ashamed, scared, and feel as they will be labeled.
National Alliance on Mental Illness has been trying to raise funds for our free programming. The funds raised by NAMI PBC are directed locally to provide education, support and advocacy for an improved quality of life. NAMI PBC provides best practice or evidence based, educational programs that teach ways of coping with the challenges of such conditions. NAMI PBC also provides weekly and monthly support groups across the Palm Beach County. All of these essential programs, services and more are offered by NAMI PBC at no cost. In addition to our educational programs and services, we educate the community about severe and chronic mental health conditions and advocate for improvements in the systems of care available to families, friends, and all people with mental health conditions.
Thank you for your consideration.
Kindest Regards,
NAMI PBC
I am in the same boat as John. My family was as disfunctional as they come. I was born in a very diverse area in NY in 1960. My father never seemed to like me like my two brothers and I was the one who he always hit. My father divorced my mother very young and remarried a horrible human being with a daughter who became a sister. She made it worse. Meanwhile, he had his first major heart attack at 35. I had no structure and very bad luck. My appendix at 13 burst. My knee went at 16 and surgery. I joined the ARMY after HS and I was already depressed at this time. I served my time and got out and found a job working a mailroom. My back had problems and next thing I know, I needed my first of four major back surgeries. I was getting panic attacks, anxiety attacks and I was finally diagnosed bipolar at 33 years old. My father died a year after I made peace with him (I was 37 and he was 62). My depression was getting worse. My pain was also. I worked in sales after my first back surgery and it was hard to talk sometimes because all the mess would dry my mouth. I married a woman a year and a half after my father died (he made a comment to me “when are you going to stop just going out and settle down) and it wasn’t the right choice. I did have a son with her and I left when he was 3. My depression was getting worse. I have a strong addictive personality due to my bipolar and I was gambling. I had to go to GA to quit it got so bad. I lived alone must of my life, but have 1000 stories in me. I had to move to Florida in 2013 because of Hurricane Sandy. I was offered a job here and I lost everything during that hurricane and didn’t have a job in NY. I was in Florida 3 months (I was supppsed to fly to NY and see my son every month or two). I just got home that day from NY and went to work. Driving home, I fell asleep behind the wheel (I found out thru tests in a hospital I have severe Narcolepsy) and hit a truck at around 70 MPH. I was hospitalized almost a month where I nearly died (not close to the first time). I have now lived alone and it took 4 years to get my disability, even though I have like 8 things that qualify. I tried to kill myself in November two years ago, but that just got me a week in the Psych ward. Not my first go round there. Now I have one Person and my son that I talk to. My son is 16 so he only wants to talk for 2 minutes 3 times a week if I’m lucky. My best and only friend left, talks to me almost everyday out of pity I think. I have no hope or faith. I want to live in NY by my son. I leave my home for doctors or food. No other reason. I am a waste and at 56. I also suffer chronic pain. In Florida, they treat that like you’re a drug addict. I just had my son here and he’s gone. I won’t see him again till Dummer. It was only a 4 day visit. I wish death on me always but won’t do it myself. Between nobody ever to see and one and a half people to talk too, I’m losing it. This is over 4 years like this. Loneliness is a pain. Trust me. One of many. So Bruce can toot his horn. I saw him around 30 times in the 80’s and 90’s. We need advocates to help people with mental and physical disabilities. I have to fight just to shower.
Live today as if wouldn’t be around tomorrow…
I cared for some one in worst shape…severe mentall Illness. The man..has no concept if it..and yet he struggles everyday to get his previous Job back …bus driver…and to be able to make money..to be able to marry..and have 2 kids…in his words……
He sits everyday at his computer triying to talk to woman out there…however no one really makes contact. He is 45. I left my career to care for him at home. He lives his life….through me…but yet….I am his keeper….sometimes I fall..but I get up again…immediately…however I recognize he’ll probably will never know or recognize the very essence of his Illness…and I have to Accept his Illnes for him and I. Looking forward to having the children of my children one day and maybe a little will come in our lives looking like him. Albert is his name…..
My husband…a good man had the golden heart to Accept him to be in our home…
I know deep in my heart that God is looking at us…so CHEER UP!!!
I have a page for people and family like me that struggles on a daily basis to make life easier for them to get help they need…wether it is through integrated Med or traditional. Lightupyourlife1.Thank you