As early as age seven, Andy Behrman knew something was wrong. Every night he would try to sleep like a “normal” kid, but the sound of his eyelashes fluttering on his pillow sounded like thunder to him and kept him awake. “I could smell, taste, see, hear and touch so much more than the normal person,” he says.
By high school, he hardly slept, spending every waking moment plotting his “next moves to greatness”—an incessant drive that led him to become class president and yearbook editor. In college at Wesleyan, fueled by cocaine and alcohol, he partied every night and blew off classes, yet managed to graduate with high honors. When he wasn’t up, he was down, falling into fits of depression that were dark and rageful.
The psychiatrists Behrman met with mostly diagnosed him with depression. One doctor even prescribed him Prozac, which fueled his mania, sending him out of control in every way—extreme shopping, promiscuous sex, drugs, alcohol, and endless days awake. Continue reading ANDY BEHRMAN aka Electroboy
As a manic, crazy, borderline, overbearing with a unique mind, and with that the dearest friends I can find.
Its hard not to sound self indulgent, self absorbed and self important when making a note about one self. But we all share our stories, issues and poems on social media. Sadly, my original, better, and way more creative energy flow that was deleted. I can not recover it. Please bare with me. Its for the love of my friends. Here, far and wide in the world. Here goes:Through the years that I try fill what was this bottomless pit. That void that could never be filled. That pain inside me that could never be killed. Unless I killed me, and many times over I sat at the train tracks watching the trains go by. Was it that I so badly wanted to die? I found highs through drugs and they destroy the body and the soul. A hit of heroin, crystal meth, anything that would suddenly have angels massaging my body and calming my mind. The love that filled within me. In solitude, alone, I enjoyed this seduction to my soul. But little did i know I was falling into a deep hole. Alone. A feeling that I grew up with. Continue reading TO ALL THAT I LOVE by Rebecca
I never thought I would become this empty. I mean I have always been empty because that’s why I am an addict right ? A bottomless pit like a void needing to be filled. Drugs that come in many forms. Prescription pills to bring down the pain, anything to ease the pain. Alcohol that temporarily numbs the paranoia and lowers the inhibitions. Stimulants that briefly stop a fast chaotic brain into a form of mental silence. Before too long and before it causes a psychosis. Before I knew it was homeless, 19, injecting drugs, deeply depressed but also my binge behaviour seemed to be something of a borderline or a bipolar. I was missing something. Was it love ? Was it medication ? Whatever it was I had no idea and drugs were the answer. Continue reading The bad years – homeless and junked (2006-2007) by Rebecca
David was taken away from his foster parents at age 7, misdiagnosed as schizophrenic, and placed in an institution. He had never been out of Iowa. His dream was to see the Pacific and walk the Castro before he died. Making the trip became urgent when David had stroke.
Barry Morrow, the Oscar winning screenwriter for the movie Rainman inspired us to record our journey. We met him in California and he introduced David to the Pacific