Cost of perfection

Doing a little research the other day, I learned that a lot of famous writers from the past suffered from depression and many, in fact, wound up committing suicide or destroying their lives via alcohol or drugs. Some of the writers that actually did that were involved in the same genre that I have been with a good majority of my life. It's one thing to look at that, but then again if they hadn't had such inner conflict perhaps they would have never created the masterpieces that they did. I know from my own personal experience, that, even though I would say I'm in no way thankful for it by any means, pain always drove me to excel. And then maybe there is another perspective that maybe there is such a thing as a curse for dark writers. Poe and Lovecraft both died miserable and broke. Plath committed suicide by way of putting her head in an oven. Stoker never lived to see any of his works garner any sort of appreciation at all. It definitely makes you wonder.