Men Have Called Her Crazy: A Memoir

by Anna Marie Tendler

Underneath the vanity was a deep depression, a seemingly bottomless chasm of worthlessness and anxiety. I was a woman losing her grip on a life I was holding so tightly

the idea of medication every time Dr. Karr brought it up. I gained more insight into the causes of my anxiety, but the anxiety did not decrease. I tried meditating, breathing techniques, exercising; none of it helped.

Suicidal thinking as an adult felt so much different than it had as a teenager. As a teen, it was about revenge. I wanted people to be sad I was dead. As an adult, I was not worried about anyone else. I just wanted an exit.

The first lampshade I made was fit only to be placed in the garbage, but the second shade looked pretty good. The third shade looked kind of amazing. It had lush velvet fabric printed with illustrated peacocks, chocolate-brown trim, and gold, beaded fringe along the bottom. When illuminated, the light sparkled through the gold glass beads, refracting onto a nearby wall. Huh, I thought. I wonder if other people would like these?

I press the syringe plunger until the liquid disappears under my skin. I wonder if self-harm prepared me for that to be so easy.

I won’t live my life only to make someone else happy.

It’s shocking how much faster I recover from an ending when I don’t have to also disentangle

I chose the path of writing this book, I stayed the course, I did not turn left, and that’s something.

for their support in writing this book. I know stories have many sides and interpretations. Thank you for graciously allowing me the space and trust to write mine.