John John Grassonet: I don't mind failing again because I've already succeeded.

Segre TowersA musician from Lleida and, above all, a fighter. Joan Mesegué He's now 55, lives with his partner by the Utxesa reservoir, and is starting a new life. Since his twenties, he's teetered between life and death, art and madness, the deepest depressions and the most creative bursts of clarity, traveling all over Europe and returning home in frustration… Diagnosed with bipolar disorder and recently brought under control with medication, he's embarking on a tour of pubs and record labels, performing some of his new songs.

Do you like to be called John John Grassonet?

— In honor of my mother. She always affectionately called me John-John, referring to President Kennedy's son, who was always on the news when I was little.

And Grassonet?

— Because that's how I am since my mother died, when I was only twenty years old. I spent months lying at home with a huge depression.

Was it a hard blow?

— I was in Canada making a living playing guitar when I got a call to rush back to Lleida to say goodbye to her; she was terminally ill with cancer. I arrived too late, she was already dying, and after her death I gained twenty kilos.

Finally, you left.

— Temporarily.

Because you said so?

— Bipolar disorder has always divided my life.

Always?

— Until a few years ago, when I was diagnosed, I didn't know what was wrong with me.

What was wrong with you?

— My psychotherapist tells me that the life of a bipolar person is like taking a car and running out of gas halfway through. I've spent over twenty years going in circles.

I don't quite understand. Give me some examples.

— Suddenly I would get a feeling of euphoria and, without weighing the pros and cons, I would cycle all the way to Scotland, earning a good living playing music and doing many odd jobs until, suddenly, I would find myself depressed, lost, starving, and begging.

And will it always be like this?

— So, for over two decades. I've traveled all over Europe, with long periods of euphoria that led me to make bad decisions, followed by increasingly severe depressions. Life was chaos. I was lucky I never fell into drugs. I was only obsessed with my guitar.

Were you asking for help?

— Only when I couldn't take it anymore. When I was traveling and the depressions came on, they would creep in slowly, and I thought I could pull through. But no. I always ended up in misery.

In poverty?

— Without food and sleeping on the streets. I would end up calling my family to ask them to send me money to get home, or I would even go to Spanish bars to ask for help.

Until…

— Until I stopped playing when I was 45. My concerts were becoming increasingly pathetic. I wouldn't finish songs and I'd burst into tears mid-performance. It was awful. And I ended up spending days and days locked up at home, not sleeping and thinking about suicide.

Did you try it?

— Four or five times. I didn't go out because I'm a coward.

When did you see the exit?

— It was very difficult. I visited many people all over Catalonia, experts in different specialties. Most told me I simply had an emotional blockage. Until finally, a psychiatrist in Manresa told me I was bipolar, and she was right. Since I started medication two years ago, I haven't had a single bout of depression. At first, I didn't believe it, which is why it took me a while to trust them.

Do you regret not having been diagnosed sooner?

— I have no choice but to accept it. But now that I'm on medication and feeling well, I can think with a bit more perspective, review my life story, and say that I'm happy to be here.

A rebirth.

— My real life, after bipolar disorder, began two years ago.

And returned to music after eight years of silence.

— More than ever. Last year on Sant Jordi's Day I made my debut with a concert at the Albagés and, since then, I haven't stopped working, performing and, above all, composing new songs to see if one day I can make a living from them. royalties.

Quite a challenge.

— By the time this interview is published, I'll be in Nashville, Tennessee, recording some tracks and meeting Emmylou Harris in person. My dream is that she'll end up singing one of them.

Didn't you have the opportunities you have now when you were younger?

— Yes. I was even offered roles on television or radio programs… but I refused. I was terrified of bursting into tears on live television.

Aren't you afraid of failing in this new stage?

— No. I'm willing to fail. Because, for me, life begins now, and that's already a victory. Not having any depression in the last two years is by far the greatest reward I've ever received. The norm among bipolar people is that if you haven't been diagnosed by age 50, you're either a poly-drug user or you're dead.

Saved by the bell…

— Bipolar disorder is still with me. I'll never be able to avoid it. But if I don't stop taking my medication, I'll always be able to control my mood swings.

Diagnosed, but struggling with chronic focal dystonia.

— I have a condition that causes me to focus on certain parts of my body. This limits my ability to play guitar. In fact, this condition is also known as musician's cancer.

Caram…

— I've spent my whole life strumming four chords, unable to pick the strings and play solos. My fingers just won't cooperate. I only have two that work.

Is there no care?

— When I was young, only 20% of those infected survived. Nowadays, more than half of people are cured if treated early.

And you haven't been able to get better?

— No. Because of my bipolar disorder, I haven't been consistent enough in doing the exercises they recommended to retrain my fingers.

But you've kept playing the guitar.

— At first I played with the guitar flat on my thighs, like American country and folk musicians. I made a living that way for a while, until I later realized that two strings worked better.

Are you serious?

— It all started with a careless mistake.

How was it?

— It was 2010, and I was playing a concert in Tàrrega. When I opened my guitar case, I realized I'd made a mistake and brought one from home that I was repairing, with only two strings. First, a chill ran through me, and then I decided to improvise.

And did it go well?

— Since I have a good grasp of harmony, I did well during the concert and discovered that I could not only play the guitar with two strings, but I was more comfortable than ever.

Do you play every concert like this now?

— Yes. I haven't stopped doing it. But since it's not very visible on stage, people don't notice.

Don't you ever explain it before you start playing?

— No. Only at the end. I don't want there to be any prejudice among the audience. I want to win people over with the music, not because I only play with two strings. In fact, at the end, more than one curious person usually approaches me to check it out.