Andy Behrman has experienced the highs and lows of manic depression ­ and came through to tell the tale. He talks to Rod Hermeston just as his new book hits the shops

"Mania is about desperately seeking to live life at a more passionate level, taking second and sometimes third helpings on food, alcohol, drugs, sex and money, trying to live a whole life in one day. Pure mania is as close to death as I think I have ever come"

"In my most psychotic stages, I imagine myself chewing on sidewalks and buildings, swallowing sunlight and clouds."

These are two extracts from Andy Behrman's new autobiography Electroboy, published by Penguin.

If Behrman's mania almost sounds like fun, that's because it was in many ways. But it led him into male prostitution, frightening spending binges, art fraud, and eventually prison. At other times, he felt suicidal.

Andy, 40, grew up and still lives in New York, the son of well-to-do Jewish parents.

He knew at an early age that he was different because of his obsessive behaviour.

But it was at university that the manic depression really kicked in, though he did not get a diagnosis until many years later. He was introduced to new stimulants like alcohol, sex and drugs and he craved them.

After university he began working in public relations, but as a side-line he got into male striptease and prostitution - giving "handjobs" to clients for $50. It was really just for the thrill.

As for money, Behrman had a tremendous energy to earn it and burn it. Splashing out $8,000 in three hours on clothing was nothing.

He describes that time in the book: "Losing control during a shopping spree is probably the ultimate high for me now; it causes a strange sense of panic, a near blackout state. My heart races - I'm nervous,

I'm frighened, I'm pressured, I'm stressed."

But it was while he was working for well-known artist Mark Kostabi that he really went off the rails.

A female colleague had the idea of faking some Kostabi pieces and signatures. He knew it was risky, but couldn't help himself. "No matter what she had said to me, I would have thought it was a great idea," he tells me.

The twist was that Kostabi famously did not paint a number of his works himself. He just signed them.

It is pretty surprising that Andy didn't get caught earlier, since he had an obsessive need to tell people, including journalists, exactly what he was doing.

But sure enough his actions caught up with him and he ended up in prison - a dirty, smelly "shit-hole".

The problems continued after his release.

"99 per cent of my experiences were in the high state but the lows were horrible. It wasn't like regular depression -- they were full of rage," he says.

He reached a low after having tried every conceivable combination of drugs, and an endless procession of therapists and psychiatrists who eventually decided he had manic depression.

One day, he says, "I was walking up Madison Avenue and I couldn't hear any noise and everything was a blur. My head was pounding and I knew that I had come to the end of my life."

It sounds extreme but it took that to drive him towards the controversial treatment Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT), which jolts electricity through the brain and can cause serious memory loss and confusion.

The first treatment seemed to have real benefits.

He says: "My head felt that it had been relieved of this horrible weight and distress. I felt like I had been unwound."

Even that did not last. After about 20 treatments, he decided to stop having ECT. He believes that it probably helped him but he has now found a drug combination that works.

It involves taking 30 pills a day, and many have side-effects.

His condition has been under control for about three years and he has been busy.

The book came about after he wrote a "somewhat humorous" article for the New York Times on ECT, though he criticises its overuse and the fact that its side-effects are not explained to people.

He has also sold the rights to a film about his life and is starting work on a second book.

Meanwhile, he helps other people with the condition who are returning from hospital to the community.

It's clear that much of that energy and drive still remains.

"It is the left-over part of my mania which is what you would call drive that keeps me going. It is ingrained in my personality. It certainly never disappears."

Electroboy (Penguin, £10.99) is in bookshops now.