by Andy Behrman
This morning I wake up early to check my e-mail. When I look over at the roses, I see that they’re no longer ivory—more beige now, tinged with brown. I try pulling off some of the discolored petals. It helps a little. But they’re becoming shapeless and abstract, no longer the crisp and vital buds I bought a week ago, and they won’t see spring. But I don’t need them to stay perfect anymore. They have their own vanishing beauty, and that’s fine with me.
For my mother and father, with love and gratitude
Acknowledgments
I could not have written Electroboy or completed my recovery without Jennifer Copaken—a true friend and supporter who inspired me every day for almost two years and continues to do so. I met Jen a year after my last electroshock treatment; I was in a confused state, between memory loss and medications, but she held my hand through the process of writing about my manic depression and ECT. The New York Times Magazine published my article about ECT, officially heralding my return after eight long years of retirement. Thank you, Jen.
My deepest gratitude goes to Suzanne Gluck, my überagent at the William Morris Agency, for her belief in Electroboy from the first moment she listened to my thirty-second pitch. She was steps ahead of me—in a strange sort of way, she had an overall sense of the book before I did. I was wowed by her speed and enthusiasm. Within two weeks she sold the book to Random House; she wasn’t kidding around. A week later, her colleague Alicia Gordon optioned the book for HBO.
Many thanks to Courtney Hodell at Random House for taking the first courageous step in acquiring Electroboy. She started from scratch with me and promised that we’d have a book at the end. Courtney allowed me to go where I needed with the manuscript—she made no strict rules—and then started pulling it together and showing me how to make the pieces fit. Her ability to help me tell my story, to make me rethink my experiences and delve into details, was astonishing, and her ongoing patience was enormous. Thanks to her extraordinary assistant, Tim Farrell, for giving the book organization and structure and for his keen editorial insight. He is a true perfectionist. Tim constantly pushed me to rewrite, keeping the pressure on me up until the very last minute.
Jen’s work with me didn’t stop with that one article on ECT. We spent countless hours in Manhattan coffee shops, where she made lists and drew crazy flow charts for me that took me chapter by chapter. She read and critiqued everything that I wrote, even after she left New York to live in San Francisco with her husband, Todd Yellin, who put up with late-night calls and an emergency visit to the Bay Area.
A very special thank-you to my two primary doctors, for their years of care and concern for me and the time they have invested in helping to keep me as healthy as I am today. I am extremely fortunate to have found both of them. I am also grateful to the six members of my therapy group, who have been together and have supported me for almost three years.
Thank you to my very wise and courageous defense attorney, Stuart Abrams, who fought the toughest battle I’d ever face for me in December of 1993.
Thank you to my sister, Nancy Behrman, who was always there to cry with me and hold my hand and who can always lighten the mood with a good story or some breaking gossip; to Nancy and Nick Davis, my aunt and uncle, who have always shown great interest in and concern for me since I was a small child; and to Ellen Hettinger, a great supporter of me and my family during both the good times and the very difficult ones.
Thank you to Adam Moss for giving me my first writing assignment in New York, at 7 Days, and the opportunity to write at The New York Times Magazine.
Thank you to Hilary Jacobs and Robert Brinkman, two friends who have always shown me great kindness, made me laugh hysterically, and served me great food; to Lucy Lehrer for her friendship and support, especially during my time at Esmor, and for always having the joie de vivre to join me on a bus ride to Atlantic City or a train ride from Paris to Berlin; to Brian Cresto for his friendship, intuition, and great problem-solving advice, and, when it came to Electroboy, his gentle criticism; to Christopher Smith for his constant long-distance encouragement, his sense of humor, and his special brand of cynicism; to Jeannette Walls for teaching me to “take it all with a grain of salt” and convincing me on more than one occasion to keep writing; to Melissa Levine and Scott Rosenthal for their nonstop enthusiasm for Electroboy and their loyalty; to Deborah Copaken Kogan for showing me the way one year ago and for all of the reinforcement that she and her husband, Paul, provided throughout this process; to Dr. Andrew Elmore for his positive thinking and optimism; to Judy Cramer for her care, interest, and enthusiasm; to Betsy Marino for a lifetime of laughs and for making me feel good about writing about mental illness; to Marilyn Fletcher for keeping close tabs on me and understanding this chronic illness; to Al Lowman, who pushed me to start writing years ago; to Lindley Boegehold, who told me I could write a book; to Elliot Thomson, who told me I should write this book; to Gregory Marro, who understood how difficult this book was to write; to Kenneth Johnson and Garrick, who checked up on me daily; to Robert Adamo, who helped me maintain my positive attitude; and and to Bobbie Freeman, a talented artist and a unique and remarkably giving woman who stuck by me during the darkest hours of my illness.
ANDY BEHRMAN is a manic depressive who has undergone nineteen electroshock treatments. He has worked as a PR agent and an art dealer. His writing has been featured most recently in The New York Times Magazine. A graduate of Wesleyan University, he knows most of the all-night diners and after-hours bars in the major cities across the country. He currently lives mania-free on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. You can reach him at www.electroboy.com.
